He gave her an impatient look. “Be quick about it, then.”
“One of the men told me the captain gives all of his share from your plundering away. Is that true?”
“Why you care, Lady? You worried he won’t be able to buy you all dem fancy dresses?”
Ashley looked down at her stained peasant’s skirt and blouse. “At home, I have more dresses than I could ever wear.”
Chante threw back his head and laughed. “I know you do.”
Ashley refrained from rolling her eyes, just barely. She was starting to like Chante, and the feeling was uncomfortable. “My question,” she said, with a haughty tilt of her chin. She could still play the princess, even if she didn’t look like one.
Chante shrugged. “The ship is called Robin Hood.” He gestured to the ladder, and Ashley realized she had her answer. So it really was all about revenge for Nick.
Ashley climbed the ladder, shaking her head. Did Chante really think they couldn’t lose with her on board? Nick would have fought hard either way. In her—admittedly very limited experience—battles were largely matters of chance. If land battles often came down to weather or landscape or whose army had fed better, then she imagined sea battles even more risky. The wind might change, a storm might suddenly appear, a wave might mean the guns fired higher or lower than the gunners had aimed. Nick might want to keep her alive, but in the end, they were all at the mercy of chance.
With a look at Chante, who’d climbed up behind her, she made her way to the deck rail where Rissa stood. Nick and his advisors were situated on the bow, a spyglass passing between them. She glanced that way and saw for herself the tiny spec that must have been Yussef’s ship. The Robin Hood was definitely gaining on it. They were chasing it, chasing death.
“Is that him?” Rissa asked. Her voice was so quiet, and the wind so strong, Ashley had to bend to hear the little girl’s voice.
“Who?”
“The man who attacked the island?”
Ashley wished she could wrap the little girl in a hug. Instead, she put her hand on the child’s shoulder. “That’s him.”
“Papa will kill him now.”
“We can only hope,” she said, steering the little girl toward the ladder leading below. And hope as well that he didn’t get them all killed in the process.
Several hours later, Rissa slept, but Ashley could not seem to relax. She could hear the men calling orders and then the thump of feet and the scrape of cannons as the men prepared for the battle. She would tense and hunch over, waiting and waiting for the boom of the cannons. But nothing happened.
When would the battle begin? When would it be over?
Finally, she could take it no more. She left the cabin and entered the deserted companionway. If anyone saw her, they’d send her back, so she moved quickly to the ladder. She couldn’t see anything in the stern of the ship, and she had to know what was happening. She emerged onto the deck, the shouts of men’s voices assaulting her ears. Orders of “Fall off two points to starboard” and “Fire on my command” sounded loud and clear. She stumbled forward, ignoring the noise and moving toward the bow. Finally, she found a spot between gun ports and wedged herself in. Shanks pointed at her. “Out of the way!” She ignored him and peered out and over the deck rail.
She covered her gasp with her hand. Terror pierced her as she stared across the water at the looming shape of the other ship. The Robin Hood was closing in. They were so close now she could see the faces of the men on the stern of The Snake. She could hear their jeers, could see they too were preparing to fight. And their cannons looked huge. One hit from those, and the Robin Hood would surely sink. In the past, she’d always been afraid of fire, but now she looked down at the black water and she was terrified.
A hand grabbed her shoulder roughly and pulled her back from the rail. “What the hell are you doing up here?” Nick asked, moving her away from the cannons. “Do you want Yussef to see you? If he boards, he’ll come for you first.”
She swallowed, staring at Nick’s face. Was this the last time she’d see it? It had become so familiar to her the past few weeks. What if this was the end? “He’s not going to board us,” she said, pushing her voice to be heard over the wind and the battle preparations. “You won’t let that happen.”
“Damn right I won’t! But I don’t have time for this. Get below.”
She nodded. He did not have time to hold her hand right now, time to reassure her. The battle would be upon them in mere moments. The two ships would soon be broadside, and both would shake from the power and fury of the cannons. She turned to go, to leave him and return to the illusion of safety below, but something made her turn back and grab his hand.
“Ash—”
She didn’t allow him to speak. She didn’t want to hear his protest. Instead, she pulled him to her and covered his lips with hers. It was a rough kiss, one that promised more to come. “That’s not goodbye,” she told him when they parted. “That’s a taste of what comes with victory.”
His sky-blue eyes were dark with desire and something else—something hard—determination. “Then I’ll find you after the battle. We’ll celebrate tonight.”
With a quick nod, Ashley disappeared below, almost running to the cabin. She closed the door behind her and leaned on it, closing her eyes. At any moment, the blast of the cannons would rock the ship. If Yussef’s return fire hit its mark, the floor beneath her would shudder. Men would scream in pain, the hull would be ripped open again, fire could spread through the vessel, trapping her. She clenched her hands to keep the panic from taking over.
“Ashley?”
Ashley jumped and turned to look at Rissa. The little girl sat on the bed, rubbing eyes still hazy from sleep.
“Yes?” Ashley answered, smoothing her skirt, trying to pretend she could still breathe.
