Heather Graham - [Camerons Saga - North American Woman 02] (41 page)

“As you wish, sir,” Robert agreed.

“What!” Skye cried out.

“Go,” the Hawk told Robert. Robert saluted, and left them. The Hawk turned back to look at Skye. “You’re not coming, milady. You know that you cannot possibly come. You must go back to your husband and your home.”

“My father—”

“I will find your father. I will give you my word.”

“But—”

“I will not put your life at risk again. Were your father not so impulsive as to seek you when others were better at the task, we would not be here now. There is danger aboard a pirate ship. You should know that well.”

“Not when one is under the captain’s protection!”

“But you know very well that one captain can be killed and another man take his place. You know full well that the sea can rage, and cannons fire. I will not take you with me.”

“But … but what about your reward, Captain Hawk, your payment?”

He shrugged. “I have given you my promise that I will find your father and restore him to you. I will take your word that you will give payment, when payment is due. Your promise will be sufficient.”

“My promise—”

He came back to her, a curious smile curving his lips. She didn’t think to walk away; she was touched by the silver fire in his eyes and the wistful curl of his mouth beneath the mustache and beard. “You made a promise to me once before,” he said softly. “Do you remember?”

She started to shake her head, suddenly frantic to be free from him. Sweet warmth filled her.

She might have stayed with him. Once, if it had not been for her love for Theo, she might well have cast caution and society and propriety to the wind. She might well have stayed with him upon his paradise while the world be damned. She had cared so very deeply. And now with his touch upon her …

“Do you remember? Darkness had fallen and you defied me and all danger to escape the night. And you promised me anything, anything at all that I could desire. To give to me all. You later retracted the promise—you had given it to a pirate. But you did not retract, in truth, and I will never forget the time that you gave me the innocence, the trust.”

“You never forget?” she whispered. “Except when you bed with whores?”

“Never even then,” he replied. “You tell me, milady, do you think of me when you bed with your husband?”

She pulled from him quickly, lowering her head. She had made new vows in her heart. She had sworn that when this danger was over, she would never fight her legal lord and husband again. She would live with him at Cameron Hall, and love him for all of her life.

If he wanted her still, after what she had done. Perhaps this time he would not forgive her.

Her heart seemed to tear within her chest and she wondered if he could understand what she had done. She was afraid to return, she realized, and she wondered not only who she loved the more, the pirate or the lord, or, at the moment, who she feared the more. In the whole of her life no man had had such power over her; now she was storm-tossed between two men, ever battling, and seldom leaving the fray without some wound.

“I love my husband,” she said softly.

“What?”

He came up to her, spinning her around to see her face. His gaze was as sharp as his snapping voice, full of demand. Her eyes widened with surprise at his manner, but just then the door burst open again. Robert Arrowsmith had returned. “The men are heading to the longboats and await you. We’d best hurry. It seems that someone has spied a group of the lieutenant governor’s militia coming our way. I can leave the lady in their care, and find you as you sail.”

“Fine,” the Hawk said. He turned, captured her hand elegantly, and kissed it with courtly finesse. “Milady, I stand forever at your service. My promise is my vow, as I am sure that yours shall be.”

His eyes sought hers quickly, and then he was gone. She was left to Robert’s care.

“We should leave now, and quickly,” he told her. “The word is out that Spotswood’s men approach. This place is coming alive with scurvies afraid of capture and hanging. I must leave in safety, and see to my own continued life, if you don’t mind.”

She shook her head, certain that she never wanted Robert Arrowsmith to hang. She dreaded returning to Williamsburg, and even more she dreaded returning to her husband. Perhaps
there was some way to explain why she had rendered him unconscious, but she was certain that she could not make him understand a promise such as the one she had made to the Silver Hawk.

She could never explain it. But then, neither would she ever be able to forget it.

“Milady?”

Robert offered her his arm and she took it and they hurried toward the stairs together. Once there, they were brought up sharply.

The Hawk’s men were gone, but many another knave was not. They awaited Robert standing in a circle at the foot of the stairs. He paused, shoving her behind him.

One fellow with a gold tooth and straggling dark hair stepped forward, grinning broadly. “Why, ’tis Mr. Arrowsmith of the Silver Hawk’s sloop, is it not? Alas, while the Hawk’s away …”

“What do you want, Fellows?” Robert demanded darkly.

Fellows lifted his hand, rubbing his thumb together with his forefinger. “What is it that we always want, good Master Robert? Gold, son, and that’s a fact.” Jeering, he pointed a finger behind Robert toward Skye. Nervously she pulled her hood further down upon her forehead. “There’s rumor in the common room that the Hawk was visited by a lady … and that the lady was none other than the Cameron bride. She’s a pretty thing, ain’t she? Nay, lads, more than pretty. She’s a beauty true and rare, and that’s a fact. She’s a ticket out of here to any man. She’s a very fortune in gold—”

“Let me by, Fellows. She’s been given the Hawk’s safe passage, and that’s a fact.”

Fellows cocked his head. “Why, the Hawk’s gone, Master Robert. ’E’s gone after Logan, so I ’ear, and this time, I daresay, they will kill each other at last. I fear the Hawk no longer.”

“Don’t you, then?”

The voice thundered across the room and all assembled at the foot of the stairs turned quickly to the doorway. The Hawk wasn’t gone at all, not yet. He was standing in the doorway with his greatcoat over his shoulders and his sword
drawn. He lifted his hand, beckoning to Fellows. “Come, sir, let’s discuss this with our steel, shall we?”

“Get the girl!” Fellows bellowed out.

It was quickly apparent that he did not intend to battle the Hawk, not when a roomful of men stood between them. Some loathsome young man with filthy hands and rum-coated breath lunged toward Skye. She screamed, hurrying up toward the top of the stairs. Robert came against the young man, not reaching for his sword but jabbing his fist into the lad’s jaw. The young man went down, and then Robert drew his sword.

“Get her out!” the Hawk raged to Robert across the room.

Robert shoved her upward. They were quickly pursued. Robert dueled with agility and grace, but he had no less than three opponents at a time.

“I need a sword, Robert!” Skye called.

“A sword, milady?”

He lunged at an opponent. The man gasped, clutching his skewered middle. He fell forward, and his sword fell to his feet.

Skye could not take the time to look upon the ugly death with horror. She plucked up the enemy’s sword and swept her skirts behind her, anxious to parry their attackers along with Robert.

“Me! My hearties, ’tis me you must fight!” the Hawk cried, coming further and further into the room, battling all who came his way with a startling ferocity and trying to draw opponents from Robert and Skye.

He was strong, Skye thought, yet his brilliance at swordplay lay in his grace. No sword could touch him, for he could leap above the steel. No man could surprise him, for he would suddenly soar atop a wooden table and leap down upon his attacker.

“Come!” Robert urged her.

They fought to the top of the stairway. The Hawk fought his way closer and closer to them, and then he was suddenly beside them, his steel bathed in blood. They entered into the hallway, then he pushed open the door to the room where they had been. He shoved her inside, then Robert, then entered himself.

“The bed!” he roared to Robert.

Between them they shoved the bed against the door. Swords and knives hacked against it. It would burst open soon, Skye thought, in a bare matter of seconds.

The Hawk was already across the room and to the window. He picked up the hearth chair and sent it shattering against the murky panes. He jerked the dirty drapes down and wrapped them quickly about his wrist, shoving aside the broken glass. Then he turned to her. “Come on.”

“What?” she demanded incredulously. “We’re on the second floor, Captain Hawk. You—you and Robert can jump. I cannot!”

“You can!” Robert assured her. “You will be all right. It’s our only chance. It—”

“Oh, for the love of God, Robert! We have to go!”

Skye screamed as the Hawk suddenly strode to her and swept her up and brought her straight to the window. He did not pause, nor could she begin to fight his movement or his speed.

He meant to kill her! He meant to cast her straight out of the window!

He did just that, tossing her instantly. She screamed for all that she was worth as she fell and fell into the night, then her scream was silenced and her breath was swept away as she landed hard upon a stack of hay. A body fell near hers, and then another. She tried to scramble up. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t believe that she was alive.

Skye pushed herself up at last.

“Go, Jacko!” the Hawk called out.

And Skye fell again, flat on her back, as the hay wagon that held her jerked forward. She tried to struggle up again, but the ride was rickety and so swift she could barely move. Fingers curled around hers. “Lie still!”

The wagon came to a halt. The Hawk and Robert leaped down, then their driver, Jacko. The Hawk reached for Skye, lifting her up, and she recognized Jacko from her days aboard the pirate ship. He bowed to her with a broad grin. “ ’Evening, milady!”

They stood upon the dock. Skye could hear the lap of the
water. “My God, how did you know to double back?” Robert demanded of the Hawk.

“I didn’t like the look on some of the men’s faces as I left,” the Hawk said briefly. “Jacko here thought to borrow the wagon and head around back to the windows, for which I am eternally grateful.”

“We have to move,” Jacko said. “Any minute now they shall discover the room empty, and the bulk of our men have headed out. They’ll have to run themselves, with the militia coming. We’ve got to reach the ship, and quickly, Captain.”

“What about Lady Cameron?” Robert asked.

The Hawk looked her up and down and then issued an exasperated sigh. “She comes with us. We’ve no choice. I cannot send her back, even with the militia coming. There are no guarantees.” He caught Skye’s arm and jerked her up against him. “Madame, I have said it before, and I say it again. You are trouble!”

She jerked away, her fingers still tight about the sword she had plucked from the slain ruffian. “You pirated my ship, Captain Hawk! Bear that in mind, sir! Had you lived an honest life, we’d have never met!”

“That thought could, indeed, make a cutthroat repent, milady. I shall bear it in mind. Now, let’s go!”

He stepped toward her and she was afraid of some fight, but he merely swept her up into his arms and took another step with balanced precision into the darkness beneath them. She muffled a cry of alarm, for they had merely come down into the longboat, and Jacko and Robert were following them. The men quickly picked up oars, and they slid away, silently, into the night.

The Hawk leaned toward her suddenly. She was shivering; she had grown very cold despite her cloak.

“Milady, I dare not light a lamp. Will you be all right.”

She nodded. His eyes remained fixed on hers.

Suddenly the soft sound of the oars dipping against the water was drowned by the shouts and fury that emanated from the tavern. “Company comes!” Jacko laughed.

“Ah, and I fear too late!” Robert said, pleased. Skye quickly looked back toward the land. The rogues from the tavern
were spilling out to the stretch of land before the docks. They raced for their boats, but even as they sought the water, an explosion of shots was heard on the air.

“The militia,” Robert murmured.

“They’ll be taken?” Skye whispered.

“Aye, lady. Those known for their deeds will face trial and hang. There will be a few of the notorious among them. Those not known by face or name will be set free.”

“The Silver Hawk would be known,” she whispered.

“Aye, lady, the Silver Hawk would be known.” He offered her a wry grin, and she trembled inside. Freedom had loomed before him while death had lain behind him and he had still come back. He had come back for her.

“Will we make it?” she said.

He lifted his oar. “The ship lies just ahead.”

“You thrive on danger!” she accused him.

“Ah, but I do appreciate my neck, my love!” he assured her.

They fell silent again. Skye looked back. Horses raced along the shoreline. Boats were slipping into the river, men fought fiercely on land. Shots rang out; steel clanged.

The light began to fade in the distance, and the noise, too.

They knew the river here well, these pirates, Skye thought. They navigated in the near darkness. Silence and darkness enveloped them. Skye began to shiver.

The Hawk ceased to row. His hand stretched out to hers, his fingers entwined over them. “It is all right,” he assured her softly. His warmth swept into her. She nodded and swallowed. Her throat was dry. Her heart was wretched.

“It will not be so long,” he promised her.

It was long. She knew that his ship could not have been so close, that he must have hidden her carefully in some inlet. Still it seemed that they traveled long and hard before they at last saw a beacon in the night.

“The ship,” Robert murmured.

“Aye, she awaits us,” the Hawk said. “Is Mr. Fulton at the helm, ready to set out?”

“Aye, Captain. That he is.”

The longboat moved up by the ship. The ladder was cast
over the portside, and the Hawk helped Skye to her feet. Shivering, she clung to the rope rigging and climbed.