Christine Dorsey - [Sea 01] (38 page)

“Come with us please.” This request came from the taller soldier—the one not clutching her arm.

“I don’t believe I wish to accompany you.” Miranda frantically glanced around to see if anyone was coming to her aid. Not a soul seemed to find anything unusual about her predicament. By now the shorter soldier was pulling her behind him toward the
castillo.
“I said, I don’t want to go! Help!”

With that, the taller soldier grabbed her other arm and twisted it behind her back. Miranda gasped in surprise and pain.

“I do not care what you wish to do,” he gritted through yellowed teeth. “You ask many questions. Now you are coming with us.”

For good measure he levered her arm up, bringing tears to Miranda’s eyes. But she didn’t cry. She couldn’t even speak. For at the same time the Spaniard revealed their destination.

“You have such a fascination with the
castillo
. Perhaps the inside of the dungeon will interest you as well.”

Jack lifted his head, squinting toward the door when he heard the muffled rattle of keys on the other side of the thick cypress wood. A filtering of light through the slit in the coquina stone cast the room in dusky shadows.

Pushing to his feet in the filthy straw, Jack took a deep breath and prepared for another beating. He’d been here a scant five hours by his own calculation, which admittedly probably wasn’t too accurate. And already they’d “questioned” him several times.

“Where are your men, Captain Blackstone?”

“Why do you dare to come to St. Augustine?”

Each query he refused to answer was followed by a jab or poke, a slap or a punch by the corporal of the guard, while two other soldiers held Jack’s arms. His head hurt and his ribs were sore, but he hadn’t said a word, nor did he intend to.

He might be in the familiar position of being a captive of the Spanish, but at least his men were safe. And sooner or later they’d realize he wasn’t coming back, and they’d return to the
Sea Hawk
and sail away. Knowing that Miranda and his men were spared this made his spine a bit stiffer as the door opened wider.

Jack blinked into the light, and his resolve faltered. “God’s blood,” he mumbled as he rushed forward. Jack caught his wife as she fell, thrust forward by the guards into the cell. His arms cradled her an instant before instinct made him turn to rush the men who had shoved her. But they quickly slammed the door, and as he pounded in frustration, Jack could hear their muffled laughter through the wooden planks.

“I don’t believe that will help anything.”

“No?” Jack whirled around, his face a mask of anger. “As I see it, things couldn’t get much worse.” His breath left him on a forced gust, and Jack’s expression softened. “For God’s sake, Miranda. What are you doing here?”

“I’m not exactly certain. I was walking through the market, looking for you, when two soldiers came upon me.” With each word Miranda was forced to tilt her head more as the pirate moved closer. By the time she finished speaking, she could no longer see his face, for he had her wrapped securely in his arms, her cheek pressed against his broad chest. She shut her eyes and took comfort in the strong, steady beat of his heart.

“Oh, Miranda, Miranda,” Jack whispered into her hair. The lace fontange was askew, tilted to the left, and curls tumbled down her slim back. “Why did you leave the ship?”

Miranda flattened her hands against his silk waistcoat and pushed away, her eyes accusing. “You lied to me.”

“What?” He was shocked by the change in her from sweet and, cuddly to accusing.

“You lied. You said I could come with you; then you stole off the
Sea Hawk
in the dead of night.”

Jack gave a quick, sharp laugh, then paced across the cell, turning to pin her with his stormy gaze. “You’re damn right I lied. And let me tell you this.” His finger jabbed at the air separating them. “I’d do it again. Though it does me precious little good.” His hands spread beseechingly. “ ‘Tisn’t it obvious why I didn’t wish you to come?”

Miranda let her gaze wander about the cell, taking in the damp stone walls and filthy, straw-littered floor. He had a point. Sighing, Miranda folded her hands. “Perhaps I could have helped you.”

“I doubt it.” Giving in to his desires, Jack moved back beside Miranda and draped his arm around her shoulders, pleased when she turned into his strength. “The Spanish surrounded me almost as soon as I stepped foot ashore. It was as if they knew I was coming.”

“But how could they? I mean, the
Sea Hawk
was hidden, wasn’t it?”

“Aye, I’d swear they didn’t catch sight of the ship.” As to another reason for them to know about him, Jack had used his time in captivity trying to come up with one. But the only explanation that made any sense, he didn’t want to believe.

“What of your crew? Are they somewhere in the
castillo
?”

Jack shook his head. “They’re safe as far as I know. We’d split up before I was captured. I’m hoping they managed to make it back to the
Sea Hawk.”

“But surely they’ll come for you. I mean, you’re their captain.”

Jack shut his eyes, then pulled her closer, reluctant to share reality with her. “Nay, sweetheart. They won’t be back.”

“But—”

Jack touched the soft swell of her bottom lip. “ ‘Tis an unwritten rule we follow. No sacrificing the entire crew for the sake of one man.” He let the tip of his finger drift across her cheek. “I’m sorry, Miranda. So sorry you’re involved in this.” Jack sucked in his breath. “God, how could I have let this happen?”

“Don’t.” Miranda wrapped her arms around his waist. “There must be some way out of this. If we could only think...”

“Ah, sweet Miranda.” Jack kissed her forehead, and eyes, the tip of her nose. He hesitated to tell her that he’d already thought and thought. And could think of nothing. He bent to gather her closer, but something she said made him straighten.

“You found my sister?”

“Yes. Do you think she might be able to get us out of here? Of course, the problem is, she doesn’t know we’re here. Still—”

“Tell me.” Jack cupped his wife’s shoulders. “Tell me of her.”

Miranda looked up into Jack’s expectant face and smiled. “She’s well and happy. Married and with child.”

“What?” Jack dropped his hands as if he’d been burned. “What are you saying?”

“Jack.” Miranda touched his arm, wishing he’d look back at her. “Listen to me.”

“Nay. ‘Tis not true. It must have been someone else you spoke to. Elspeth would not be—”

“Be what? Be happy?” Miranda watched as he shook his head.

“Not with the Spanish. No, by God, she would not!”

“Think, Jack. It was twelve years ago. Twelve years.”

“I care not how many years. How many decades.”

“But she was just a babe. Time has softened the pain. Mayhap you should let it soften yours.”

Jack turned on her abruptly. “Soften? How am I to soften my hate while imprisoned in a Spanish fort? Tell me that, Miranda.”

“I know not,” she whispered.

He looked at her, and his anger dissipated. “I’m sorry. ‘Tis not your fault. I just loathe that I’ve brought you to this. I’ve felt the Spanish yoke before!” Jack ran his hand over the rough wall. “I helped dig the moat that surrounds us.”

Memories came flooding back to him, nearly suffocating in their intensity, but Jack fought them. Reaching out, he pulled Miranda into his arms. There was no reason for her to hear the worst of it now. “We’ll get out of this, wife,” he said, grinning when she glanced up at him.

It didn’t surprise Jack at all when she inquired as to how he thought they’d do that. After all, he
was
dealing with Miranda, and she questioned everything.

However, she didn’t question when he brushed his lips across hers, or when he deepened the kiss.

Yet they both knew he hadn’t answered her.

“Comfortable?”

Miranda snuggled deeper into the cradle of her husband’s body and sighed her affirmation. Feeling guilty, she levered up, trying to make out his features in the failing light. “Are you?”

“Aye,” Jack assured her then cupped her head back against his chest.

They were huddled in a corner of the cell. As the evening shadows had marked the end of their first day as prisoners in the
castillo
, Jack had prepared them a place to sleep. They’d already scoured every inch of the small enclosure in a futile search for a way out, so Jack knew where to find the cleanest straw.

Using his boot, he’d cleared out a corner, spread straw to cushion them, settled down, and reached up for Miranda. She now sat on his lap, with Jack’s arms wrapped around her.

He didn’t think de Segovia would do anything tonight. The Spaniard probably wanted to give Jack time to stew and worry about the morrow.

And damn his murdering hide, that’s exactly what Jack was doing. His neck was itching something fierce, and worse, he imagined Miranda with the same malady.

His fingers brushed down over the soft skin at her throat, and his chest tightened at the thought of a rope marring that soft perfection.

“Miranda,” he said, his voice husky with emotion. “Tomorrow... or whenever they come for us.” He was sure, knowing de Segovia, that there would be a face-to-face confrontation. “I intend for us to escape.”

“But—”

“It won’t be easy,” Jack continued, ignoring the question in her voice. “And you will have to do exactly as I say.” He paused, waiting for her agreement. When he didn’t get it, his voice prompted. “Miranda?”

“Yes, Jack, I’ll do as you say.”

“Good.” His hand drifted down her arm. “I’ll try to create some havoc.”

“What kind of havoc?”

“I don’t know... something. I’ll leap on a guard, or lunge at de Segovia. Anything that will take their minds off you.” Jack shifted, taking her face in his hands and trying to see her in the darkness. “Then I want you to run like hell. Do you think you can find your way out of here?”

“Yes, but what about you?”

“I’ll follow. Or get away some other time.”

“But Jack—”

“Nay, Miranda. You cannot question this. You are to do it. Do you understand me?”

Miranda swallowed. She could not see the pirate’s face, but she could feel his intensity, in the strength of his hands, in the power of his voice. “Do you understand me?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” Jack let go of her face and rested her back against his heart. When you get out of the
castillo
, hide, then somehow get across the bay to Anastasia Island... to the ship. You’ll find Scar and the others there.” He hoped. “They’ll take care of you.” Jack paused. “They’ll see you safely back to Charles Town.”

Miranda said nothing. Jack continued talking, telling her some wild story about how he would get away later and meet her in Charles Town, and she didn’t believe a word of it. More, she knew he didn’t believe it either. He was planning a way for her to escape, but he knew his own was hopeless.

She swallowed when his arms tightened about her. “Promise me you will do this, Miranda. Promise me.”

“I promise.” Her voice was soft and low, and her breath wafted across his neck. “Jack?”

He expected an argument and prepared himself to bully her into compliance. He found that he could accept the inevitability of his own fate, but not hers. But her next words surprised him.

“I’m so glad I married you.” Miranda heard his sharp intake of breath and continued. “I know I’ve been a trial to you and—”

“You haven’t.” Jack shrugged, and honesty forced him to add, “Not really.”

“Oh, but I have. Though ‘twas never my intent. But I am glad we married and even that you kidnapped me.”

“Strange as it may seem,” Jack admitted, “I am, too.” He settled back against the hard stones and tried to be quiet. There was no real need to say more. But God’s blood,
he
might never get another chance to tell her. He opened his mouth and realized he was scared. He was a bloody pirate, and he was afraid to say three words to a wisp of a woman... and that woman was his wife!

“Miranda?”

“Yes?”

Jack took a deep breath and plunged forward. “I love you.”

There was no response, and Jack wriggled on the damp floor. God, why didn’t she say something? Did she think it foolish that a pirate, a lawless freebooter, could experience such an emotion as love? True, it had shocked him when he’d realized what he felt for her went far beyond lust, far beyond fondness. “Did you hear me?”