Page 7 of The Rogue

“I haven’t decided yet,” he said, though the threat in his tone was quite unmistakable. She swallowed, torn between contrition and holding her nerve. In the end she put up her chin.

“I still have the letter,” she said.

In the moonlight his smile took on a wolfish, feral quality that made her skin prickle.

“Oh, but you don’t, my lady. You told me yourself you don’t have it on you, and now you have no means of contacting anyone who does.” Once again Henri was filled with the sudden desire to slap him, he was so damn smug. “And don’t bother making out you left it with someone for safekeeping, for I shan’t believe you. No one knows you’re here. No one knows you’re even away from home. Do they?”

There was amusement in his eyes, and she gritted her teeth, damn the man. She began to think she had taken the wrong tack in dealing with Captain Savage. But it was too late now.

Savage turned his back on her and began speaking quietly with the rest of his men. Henri shivered and drew down further into her shawl. She watched with her confidence sinking into her boots as the hull of a large ship appeared in the moonlight.

The faces of men, bleached silver by the moon, appeared over the sides of the ship. Voices drifted over the water and the realisation she was about to become a prisoner suddenly hit home. Finally, and rather too late, she felt most desperately afraid. What had she done?

One thing was for certain, there would be no question of her marrying the damned fiancé now.

“Always look on the bright side, Henri,” she muttered to herself.

She gasped as the small boat bumped up against the side of the ship, knocking her sideways. Before she had time to right herself, she squealed with alarm as she was lifted and slung over a strong shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“Put me down!” she shrieked in fury. “Put me down, you wretch.” She kicked and rained down blows on the broad back beneath her hands, to no avail. “You fiend! I am quite capable of climbing a ladder!” she protested though she was completely ignored.

She closed her eyes as her captor began to climb and the sight of the drop made her feel she would quite likely cast up her accounts and vomit.

Once at the top, she was sat on the rail and then given a hearty push and fell with a heavy thud to the deck. She felt quite certain her behind was going to be black and blue in the morning. Righting herself as quickly as she could, she tried to get to her feet with as much dignity as possible.

The rabble hovering all around her lifted lamps to inspect the captain’s cargo more closely. She gasped and stumbled back to the rail as she was inspected under the leering gaze of a pirate crew who crowded around her. Her heart lodged somewhere in her throat apparently trying to escape her body as it beat in terror, and she wondered what would become of her.

Hard glittering eyes met hers as she took in the swarthy faces of men whose lives were lived as fugitives on the seas, with no laws to constrain them but those of their own making. There was laughter and a number of predictably ribald comments as to the captain’s plunder, and how exactly he was going to share it.

The man himself stepped onto the deck and grinned at his crew, accepting their congratulations with laughter. They moved back, making way for him as he walked closer to her. Henri glowered in return and thought every bad word she had ever learnt in her life in his general direction. Having grown up with Annie, the list was quite extensive, and she had every intention of using every single one on him.

“Well then, my lady.” Captain Savage walked towards her, took off his hat and bowed with a theatrical flourish. “As you seem to be well aware, I am Captain Lars Savage, and whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?”

Henri brushed down the now damp skirts of her pelisse, glancing around her as her heart thudded too hard, and too fast in her chest. She had once been told that you never show fear when confronted with a vicious dog. She had the feeling the advice would serve her just as well now.

“I am Miss Henrietta Morton,” she said, relieved that she didn’t stammer. She watched in surprise as the Captain’s eyes widened.

“Lord Morton’s girl?” he said, clearly astonished.

Henri took a step forward. “You know my father?”

Savage frowned. He seemed vexed with her though she supposed that was understandable. “Of course I don’t know your bloody father,” he exclaimed. “But I know the name Morton is an old one.”

Her attention was taken from the irritated captain, however, by the spectacle of Mousy clambering over the rail. His shirt was now sopping wet, stained with blood and clung to his bulky frame.

“Where’s the surgeon?” she demanded, gratitude for Mousy’s surprisingly selfless act in protecting her giving her a little courage. “That wound needs to be cauterised.”

The look of annoyance on the captain’s face grew. “Mousy get yourself below deck and see the butcher. We don’t need any nursemaids here, thank you,” he snapped at Henri, who closed her mouth, stung by his rebuff.

He stood staring at her for some moments, and she couldn’t decipher the expression on his face. What the devil was he thinking? The distance between them seemed to shrink as he watched her with the unnerving gaze of a predator. After everything that had happened this evening, Henri began to truly panic. Her breath began to come in short little gasps as the possibilities of just what he was thinking presented themselves to her with stark, cold clarity.

“Jay,” he said to the little rat-faced man, without once taking his eyes from her. “Take her to my cabin.”

Chapter 5

“Wherein a lamb bares her teeth.”

Henri shuddered with revulsion as the rat-faced man leered at her.