She heard him sigh and turned to gauge the look on his face. His expression was strained and tense. “I’m not completely without honor.” Before she could laugh, he added, “And my brother made the request. He asked, and I owe him.”
“But surely he doesn’t know that you’re a—”
“He has his suspicions.” Nick shook his head. “But no one knows.”
“I know.”
“An unfortunate occurrence.”
“What are you going to do now? Make me walk the plank?” She’d expected him to at least chuckle. Even at the most stressful times, like when Maddie’s father had been chasing them to Gretna Green and shooting at them, Nick hadn’t lost his sense of humor.
But something about him had changed tonight. Instead of teasing her—he wouldn’t really make her walk the plank...would he?—Nick’s fingers clenched angrily on the reins again.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do with you yet. Hell’s teeth!”
Ashley flinched from his sudden outburst.
“This is the last bloody thing I need right now. You are the last thing I need.”
She huffed and pushed at the prison of his arms. “Then by all means, let me go.”
He shook his head and tightened his arms about her. “I wish it were that easy, but I made a vow to you. I’m obligated to protect you.”
“Obligated! Damn—I mean, drivel! That’s drivel, Nicholas. I won’t be anyone’s obligation.” This time she managed to free one hand and was in the process of throwing her leg over the saddle before Nick got hold of her again. He crushed her against him so hard that her breath whooshed out.
“Stop fighting me.” His voice was raw and angry. “You’re mine now. I won’t fail you, like—” He broke off.
Ashley’s heart lurched with sympathy. There had been pain in his voice, real anguish underneath the anger. She opened her mouth to offer words of comfort, and then she remembered her own anguish. She remembered her own pain the night he’d betrayed her.
Her sympathy dried up, and she pushed the tender feeling aside. No, she wouldn’t feel sorry for him. She wouldn’t forgive him.
She took a shaky breath. “Sweet as that sentiment is, Lord Nicholas,” she began, keeping her voice brisk as the ocean breeze. “I’m afraid I must—for the last time—refuse offer of passage on your pirate ship. That type of thing is much better suited to my friend Josie. In fact, if you take me back to London, I know Josie would be more than willing to accompany you—”
“Even if you were not being ridiculous, it’s too late for that,” Nick said. “We’re here.”
Ashley looked around her. They were in a U-shaped area, craggy rocks rising from the seashore on both sides and the inky ocean spreading out before them. The cove looked innocuous enough to her—no hulking pirate ship flying the Jolly Roger and casting a shadow over the beach.
And yet Nick’s men were quickly dismounting from their horses and heading deeper into the cove.
“What do you mean we’re here?”
Nick dismounted and reached up to help her down. She swatted his hands away and jumped down—albeit ungracefully—on her own.
“Where exactly is here?”
“We’ve reached my ship,” Nick said, leading the horse deeper into the cove, after his men.
“Ship? What ship?”
But as she watched, the four men hauled a battered rowboat out of the shadows, lugging it toward the water slapping on the sand.
Ashley turned sharply and stared into the black water behind her. It was impossibly dark and somewhat foggy, and there was no sound, no sign of a pirate ship lurking in those gloomy mists.
And then the clouds that had sheltered the moon cleared, and the moonlight penetrated the mist, glinting off a flickering white sail.
Ashley gasped. The vessel was huge, rising out of the black water like one of Poseidon’s minions. The masts, most still bare of their sails, rose like burnt spires into the star-streaked sky. Ashley could make out small figures moving here and there, ants scurrying to attend to this task or that.
The pirate crew.
