They were all wearing cloves of garlic around their necks by the end of the week in an attempt to ward off Lady Sara's mischief.
She'd spent the entire seven days trying to gain their confidence. When she found out why they were wearing the smelly necklaces she was so disgusted with her staff that she quit trying to win them over.
She also quit running back to her cabin whenever they glared at her. She just pretended she hadn't noticed. She wasn't about to let any of them know how upsetting their conduct was to her. She kept her composure and her tears firmly in check.
Only Nathan and Nora knew how she really felt. Sara kept both of them informed about her injured feelings. Nathan did his best to ignore the situation. Nora did her best to soothe her niece.
The problem, of course, was that each minor accident, no matter what the cause, was blamed solely on Sara's very presence. They thought the woman was cursed, and that was that. The minute Chester noticed a fresh wart on his hand he blamed Sara. His hand had brushed against hers, he remembered, when they passed on deck.
How could she reason against such idiocy? Sara put that question to Nathan at least twice a day. His answers never made a lick of sense, though. He either grunted with what she interpreted as true irritation or shrugged with what she knew was total indifference to her plight. He was as sympathetic as a goat, and each time he finished giving her his oblique opinion she kissed him just to be contrary.
By the following Monday Sara didn't think her life could get any bleaker. But then, she hadn't counted on the pirates. They attacked the ship on Tuesday morning.
It started out to be a nice, sunny, peaceful day. Matthew was taking Nora for a stroll along the decks. Nora's arm was linked through Matthew's, and the two of them took turns whispering to each other and laughing like children. The elderly couple had become extremely close over the past weeks. Sara thought Matthew was just as smitten as Nora appeared to be. He had taken to smiling quite a lot, and Nora seemed to be blushing just as often.
When Sara set out on her stroll Jimbo walked beside her. She was never allowed to be alone. She believed it was because her staff had turned so belligerent on her. When she made that comment to Jimbo, though, he shook his head.
"That might be a little part of it," he said, "but the full truth is that the captain doesn't want anything else broken, Sara. That's why you've got yourself a guard trailing you day and night."
"Oh, the shame of it all," Sara cried out.
Jimbo had difficulty holding back his grin. Sara was certainly given to drama. He didn't want her to think he was laughing at her, though. "Now, now, it isn't that terrible," he remarked. "You needn't sound so forlorn."
Sara was quick to rally. Her face heated up, and she let him see her irritation. "So that's how it's to be, is it?" she asked. "A few little mishaps and I'm now condemned by my staff as a witch and condemned by my own husband as a defiler of property? Jimbo, must I remind you that nothing out of the ordinary has happened since the fire, and that was over seven days ago. Surely the men will come to their senses in time."
"Nothing out of the ordinary?" Jimbo repeated. "You cannot be serious, Sara. Have you forgotten Dutton's little mishap, then?"
He would have to bring up that unfortunate incident. Sara gave him a disgruntled look. "He didn't drown, Jimbo."
Jimbo rolled his eyes heavenward. "No, he didn't drown," he agreed. "But it was mighty close."
"And I did apologize to the man."
"Aye, you did," Jimbo said. "But what about Kently and Taylor?"
"Which ones are they?" Sara asked, deliberately feigning ignorance.
"The ones you knocked stupid two days ago when they slipped on the cannon grease you spilled," he reminded her.
"You cannot place the blame for that solely on my shoulders."
"I can't?" he asked. He was eager to hear the excuse she would give to explain away those injuries. "You did spill the grease, didn't you?"
"Yes," she admitted. "But I was on my way to fetch a rag to mop up the mess when those men rushed past me. If they hadn't been in such a hurry to get away from me, they would have stopped, of course, and I could have warned them about the slippery deck. So you see, Jimbo, the blame really belongs on their superstitious shoulders."
The shouted warning of a ship in the distance stopped their conversation. Within a blink of the eye the deck was filled with men running to their posts.
Sara didn't understand what all the commotion was about. Nathan bellowed her name before Jimbo could give her a proper explanation.
"Nathan, I didn't do it," she cried out when she saw him striding toward her. "Whatever has happened, I swear to you that I had nothing to do with it."
That vehement speech gave Nathan pause. He actually smiled at her before grabbing hold of her hand and dragging her toward their cabin.
"I know you're not responsible," he told her, "though the men will probably blame you all the same."
"What is it they're going to blame me for this time?" she asked.
"We're about to have some unwanted guests, Sara."
"Unwanted?" she whispered.
They reached their cabin. Nathan pulled her inside but left the door open. It was obvious he wasn't planning on staying long. "Pirates," he explained.
The color immediately left her face.
"Don't you dare faint on me," he ordered, though he was already reaching out to catch her in the event she decided not to obey him.
She pushed his hands away. "I'm not going to swoon," she announced. "I'm furious, Nathan, not frightened. Damn if I'll let my staff think I've brought on pirates, too. Make them go away, Nathan. I'm not up to another upset."
They were in for quite a battle, Nathan knew, but he wasn't going to share that information with his wife. In truth, he was worried, for he knew he should have used the faster clipper for their journey. They would never be able to outrun the bastards closing in on them. The Seahawk was too bulky and too weighted down to accomplish that feat.
"Give me your promise that you'll be careful," Sara demanded.
He ignored that command. "Matthew took Nora below," he said. "Stay here until he comes for you."
After giving her that order he turned and strode out the doorway. Sara ran after him. He was forced to stop when she threw her arms around his waist. It was either that or drag her up the steps with him. Nathan turned around then, peeling her hands away as he moved. "For God's sake, woman, now isn't the time to demand a good-bye kiss," he roared.
She was about to tell him, no, that certainly wasn't the reason she'd stopped him, but he waylaid her intent by giving her a quick kiss.
When he pulled away she smiled at him. "Nathan, now isn't the time to be… romantic," she said. "You have a fight on your hands. Do see to it."
"Then why did you stop me?" he demanded to know.
"I wanted you to promise me you'd be careful."
"You're deliberately trying to make me crazy, aren't you, Sara? It's all a plot to make me lose my mind, isn't it?"
She didn't answer that ridiculous question. "Promise me, Nathan. I won't let go of your shirt until you do. I love you, and I'll worry unless you give me your word."
"Fine," he countered. "I'll be careful. Happy now?"
"Yes, thank you."
She turned and hurried back into her cabin to prepare herself for the coming battle. She rushed over to the desk drawers, intending to find as many weapons as possible. If the pirates were actually successful in breaching the ship, Sara was determined to help her husband any way that she could.
She found two loaded pistols in the bottom drawer and one wickedly sharp dagger in the center slot. Sara tucked the knife into the sleeve of her gown and put the pistols in a blue reticule. She wrapped the strings of the purse around her wrist just as Matthew came charging into the cabin. A loud booming sound echoed in the distance. "Was that one of our cannons or one of theirs?" Sara asked, her voice shivering with her worry.
Matthew shook his head. "It was one of theirs," he answered. "They missed their mark. They aren't close enough to do any damage yet. That's the reason we aren't firing our own cannons, Sara. Come with me now. I've got Nora safely tucked away below the water level. You can wait it out there with her."
Sara didn't argue, knowing full well that Nathan was behind the order, but she felt very cowardly. It didn't seem honorable to her to hide.
It was pitch black in the hull. Matthew went down the rickety steps first. He lifted her over the first rung, explaining that the wood was filled with rot and would be replaced just as soon as he had time for the chore.
When they reached the bottom and turned a sharp corner the soft glow of a single candle led the way to where Nora patiently waited.
Sara's aunt was settled on top of a wooden box. Her bright red shawl was draped around her shoulders. The older woman didn't look at all afraid. "We're about to have an adventure," she called out to her niece. "Matthew, dear, do be careful."
Matthew nodded. "It would be an adventure all right, if we didn't have such precious cargo on board," he announced.
"What precious cargo?" Sara asked.
"I believe he's referring to you and me, dear," Nora explained.
"Aye," Matthew agreed. He started back up the squeaky steps. "Now we've got to defend instead of offend," he added. "It's going to be a first for the crew."
Sara didn't know what he was talking about. It was apparent that Nora did understand, though. Her smile said as much. "What do you suppose Matthew meant by that remark, Aunt?" she asked.
Nora briefly considered telling Sara, then just as quickly discarded the notion. She decided that her niece was too innocent to understand. Sara still saw everything as good or evil. In her idealistic mind there weren't any shades of gray. In time she would come to understand that life wasn't that simple. Then she would be able to accept the fact that Nathan had led a rather colorful life. Nora hoped she would be there when Sara was told she was married to Pagan. She smiled just thinking about her niece's reaction to that news.
"I believe the crew would fight more vigorously if they didn't have to keep us safe," Nora said.
"That doesn't make any sense," Sara argued.
Nora agreed but changed the topic instead of saying so. "Is this where the munitions are kept?"
"I believe it is," Sara answered. "Do you suppose those kegs are filled with powder?"
"They must be," Nora said. "We must watch the candle flame. If a fire started down here-well, I needn't tell you what could happen. Don't let me forget to blow out the flame when Matthew comes to fetch us."
The ship suddenly felt as though it had just let out a giant belch. It shook from aft to stem. "Do you think they hit us with that shot?" Sara asked.
"It certainly felt as though they did," Nora answered.
"Nathan had better finish this quickly. My nerves cannot take such an upset. Nora, you and Matthew have become very close, haven't you?"
"What a time you've chosen to ask me that," Nora said with a little chuckle.
"I just wanted to take our minds off the worry at hand," Sara replied.
"Yes, that might be a good idea. And you're right, Matthew and I have become quite close. He's such a gentle, understanding man. I'd quite forgotten how comforting it is to be able to confide my thoughts and worries in someone who cares about me."
"I care about you, Aunt."
"Yes, dear, I know you do, but it isn't at all the same. You'll understand what I'm saying when you and Nathan become a little closer."
"I fear that day will never come," Sara returned. "Does Matthew confide in you as well?" she asked.
"Oh, yes, often."
"Has he talked about Nathan much?"
"Several times," Nora admitted. "Some things were given in confidence, of course, and so I cannot speak about-"
"Of course you can," Sara interrupted. "I'm your niece, after all, and anything you would tell me wouldn't go any further. You do trust me, don't you, Nora?"
Sara kept up her prodding for another ten minutes or so before Nora finally relented. "Matthew told me all about Nathan's father. Did you ever meet the Earl of Wakersfield?"
Sara shook her head. "It's said that he died when Nathan was just a boy, Nora. I couldn't have been more than a babe. I did hear that he was knighted, though."
"Yes, he was knighted. It was all a sham, though. Matthew told me that the earl actually betrayed his country while he was in service. Yes, that's true, Sara," she added when her niece let out a gasp. "It's a horrifying story, child. Nathan's father was in cahoots with two other infidels, and the three thought they could overturn the government. They called themselves the Tribunal, and as Matthew related the sequence of events to me, they almost pulled off their treacherous scheme. Nathan's father had second thoughts, though. His conscience got him killed before the truth was let out."
Sara was horrified by what she'd just learned. "Poor Nathan," she whispered. "The shame must have been unbearable."
"No, not at all," Nora returned. "You see, no one knows the full truth. It's still believed that the earl was killed in a carriage accident. There hasn't been any scandal. I warn you that if your family got wind of this, they'd use the information to get the prince to overturn your marriage contract."
"Oh, it's too late for that," Sara returned.
"You're being naive if you believe that it's too late, Sara. The circumstances were so unusual, what with the king not feeling at all well."
"He was daft," Sara whispered.
"And you were only four years old," her aunt whispered back.
"Still, we are living as man and wife now. I don't believe the prince regent would dare overturn-"
"He can dare whatever he wants to dare," Nora argued.
"Your worry doesn't signify," Sara interjected. "I'm not going to tell anyone about Nathan's father, so my parents aren't ever going to find out. I won't even let Nathan know that I know, all right? He'll have to confide in me first."
Nora was appeased. "Do you know I also found out how Nathan's back was injured?"
"I believe someone took a whip to him," Sara returned.
"No, it wasn't a whip," Nora countered. "His back was scarred by fire, not a whip. You only have to look to realize that, child."
Sara felt sick to her stomach. "Oh, God, was it deliberate? Did someone burn him on purpose?"
"I believe so, but I can't be certain. I do know a woman was involved. Her name was Ariah. Nathan met her when he was visiting a foreign port in the east."
"How did Nathan meet this woman?"
"I wasn't given the details," Nora admitted. "I do know that this Ariah has rather loose morals. She dallied with Nathan."
Sara let out a little gasp. "Do you mean to say that Nathan was intimate with this harlot?"
Nora reached out and patted Sara's hand. "Nathan was just sowing his oats, dear, before he settled down. There's no need to get yourself all worked up."
"Do you think he loved her?"
"No, of course he didn't love her. He was already pledged to you, Sara. Nathan strikes me as being terribly sensible. He wouldn't have allowed himself to fall in love with the woman. And I'll wager you my inheritance that when Ariah was finished with him he most likely hated her. Matthew told me that the woman used Nathan to manipulate her other lover. Yes, it's true," she added in a rush when Sara looked disbelieving. "According to Matthew, Ariah was a master at her game. For that reason I do believe Nathan was tortured by her command. Thank the Lord, he was able to escape. It was during a small revolution, you see, and those sympathetic to the anarchists aided him when they released the other prisoners. Then Jimbo and Matthew took over Nathan's care."
"Nathan has certainly had a time of it, hasn't he?" Sara whispered. Her voice shook with emotion. "He must have been very young when that horrid woman betrayed him. I believe he loved her, too, Nora."
"I believe he didn't," Nora countered.
Sara let out a weary sigh. "It would be nice if it was just a dalliance," she said. "And if they did share the same bed, well, he wasn't really being unfaithful to me, because we hadn't started our married life together. You know, it's all beginning to make sense to me now."
"What is beginning to make sense?"
"I hadn't confided this to you before, but I have noticed that Nathan seems to be very concerned with protecting his feelings. Now I think I understand why. He doesn't trust women. I cannot fault him. If your fingers are burned once, you won't put your hand near the fire again, will you?"
"It was a long time ago," Nora replied. "Nathan is a grown man now, Sara, and surely he has sorted all this out in his mind."
Sara shook her head. "How else can you explain his attitude? Nathan doesn't like it at all when I tell him I love him. He stiffens up on me and goes all cold. And he's never once told me he cares for me. He just might still hate all women-except me, of course."
Nora smiled. "Except you?"
"I believe he does love me, Nora. He's just having difficulty knowing that he does."
"Give him time, dear. Men take so much longer to figure things out. It's because they're such stubborn beasts, you see."
Sara was in wholehearted agreement with that remark. "If I ever chance to meet this Ariah woman, I'll-"
"You've a good chance of meeting up with her," Nora interjected. "She has been living in London for the past year or so. Matthew says she's looking for yet another sponsor."
"Does Nathan know she's in England?"
"I would imagine so," Nora countered.
The noise became too loud for the two of them to continue the discussion. While Nora fretted about the battle Sara worried over the information her aunt had just shared with her.
Another twenty or thirty minutes passed. Then a chilling silence filled the ship. "If I could just see what's happening, I wouldn't be so worried," Nora whispered.
Sara thought that was a fine idea. "I'll just sneak up to the cabin level and see if everything is all right."
Nora was vehemently against that suggestion. The hatch opened in the middle of their argument and the two women fell silent. They both began to pray that it was Matthew coming down to collect them. Yet when no one called down to them they drew the terrifying conclusion that the enemy had indeed taken over the ship. Sara motioned to Nora to squeeze herself into the corner behind a large crate, then turned and blew out the candle. She worked her way over to the side of the steps to wait for her chance to fell the villains.
God, she was scared. That didn't stop her, though. Her first consideration was Nathan. If the enemy really was on board, was her husband dead or alive? She pictured him lying in a pool of blood, then forced herself to block the horrid thought. She wouldn't be any help to her husband if she let her imagination get the better of her.
A bit of light shone down when the hatch was fully opened. It was no thicker than a straight pin, but still enough for Sara to see two men wearing brightly colored scarves on their heads coming down the stairs.
The first pirate missed the weak rung in the steps. The second one didn't. He let out a low blasphemy when he fell through the narrow opening. The man ended up wedged between the slats. His feet dangled below him, and his arms were pinned to his sides.
What the hell? the first man muttered when he turned around. "You got yourself trapped, don't you?" he added with a snicker. He was reaching out to pull the board free but came to a sudden stop when he felt a quick breeze brush his face.
The enemy was in the process of turning around again when Sara slammed the butt of her pistol into the back of his skull. She was apologizing when he crumpled to the ground.
He didn't cry out. She did. Then she noticed that he was still breathing, and she immediately calmed down, relieved to see that he wasn't dead.
Sara lifted the hem of her dress and daintily jumped over the fallen man. She hurried up the steps to confront her second victim. The ugly man was squinting up at her with the most astonished look on his face. If he hadn't been staring directly at her, she might have been able to hit him, too. She didn't have the heart for such treachery, though, for the villain was already pinned down and at her mercy, so she ended up tearing a piece of fabric from her petticoat and stuffing the thing into his mouth to keep him from crying out for help. Nora came to her assistance then and helped her tie up the man from arms to feet.
Her aunt seemed to be taking the situation quite well. Sara thought Nora just didn't understand the severity of their circumstance. If men had breached the munitions hold, then others had to be on board, too.
"Look, dear, I've found some rope. Shall I tie up the other gentleman for you?"
Sara nodded. "Yes, that would be a splendid idea. He might wake up at any moment. Do put a rag in his mouth, too. Here, use some of my petticoat. The thing's quite ruined now."
She paused to tear another long strip, then handed it to her aunt. "We wouldn't want him shouting for help, now would we, Nora?"
"We most certainly wouldn't," her aunt agreed.
Sara tried to press one of the pistols into her hands, but her aunt declined the weapon. "You might need both when you save Matthew and Nathan, dear."
"You've certainly placed a burden upon my shoulders," Sara whispered. "I'm not so certain I can save anyone."
"Go along now," Nora ordered. "You have the element of surprise on your side, Sara. I'll wait here until you've finished your task."
Sara would have hugged her aunt farewell, but she was afraid one of the pistols might discharge.
She prayed all the way up to the cabin level. The wardroom area was deserted. Sara was about to look inside her cabin when she heard the sounds of men starting down the steps. She squeezed herself into the triangular corner behind the folded screen and waited.
Jimbo came stumbling down the stairs first. Sara got a good look at her friend by peeking through the seam in the screen. Jimbo had a fair-sized cut in his forehead. Blood trickled down the side of his face. He couldn't wipe the blood away, for his hands were tied behind his back, and he was surrounded by three pirates.
The sight of the injury made Sara forget to be afraid. She was furious.
Sara saw that Jimbo was looking toward the steps. She heard additional footsteps, and then Nathan came into view. Like the shipmate, Nathan had his hands tied behind his back. Sara was so thankful he was still alive, she started shaking. The look on her husband's face made her smile a little, too. He looked downright bored.
She watched him give Jimbo a nod. It was so quick, so fleeting, she knew she would have missed it if she hadn't been watching him so closely. Then Jimbo turned his head just a little toward the screen.
She guessed then that Nathan knew she was hiding there. Sara looked down, saw that the bottom of her dress was half-protruding, and quickly pulled her skirt back.
"Take them inside the cabin," a mean voice ordered.
Nathan was being shoved forward again. He stumbled, turned in what looked like an attempt to keep himself from falling to his knees, and ended up pushing against the corner of the screen. His hands were just a foot or so away.
"Here comes Banger with the grog," another man called out. "We can have us a toast while we see to the killing. Perry, you going to let their captain die first or last?"
While that question was being asked Sara put one of the pistols into Nathan's hands. When he didn't immediately take advantage of the edge she'd given him she gave him a little nudge.
He didn't show any reaction to her prodding. She waited another minute, and when he still didn't fire she remembered his hands were tied.
She recalled the dagger in the sleeve of her gown, too, and immediately went to work cutting through the thick ropes. She accidentally pricked his skin twice. Then Nathan grabbed hold of the blade with his fingers and took over the task.
It seemed that an eternity had passed, yet she knew not even a full minute had actually gone by.
"Where the hell is the captain?" another voice shouted. "I'm wanting my grog."
So they were waiting for their leader before they began their murderous festivities, Sara concluded.
Why was Nathan waiting? His hands were free, but he was acting as though they weren't. He held the knife by the blade, probably so that he would be ready to hurl the thing when the time came. The pistol was in his other hand, pointed to the floor.
He looked ready to do battle, all right, but still he waited. He was squeezing her against the wall. Sara was surprised the hinges to the screen he pressed against hadn't already snapped from his weight.
Nathan was obviously giving her his silent message to stay put.
As if she was in the mood to go anywhere, she thought to herself. Lord, she was getting worried again. Why didn't her husband take over the advantage now? Was he waiting for the number of pirates to double from five to ten before he acted? Sara decided then to give him a little message of her own. She reached around the side of the screen and pinched him in his backside.
He didn't react. She pinched him again. She pulled her hand back when she heard the sound of another man coming down the stairs. It was obviously the leader of the pirates, for one of his men called out to him that it was high time they all had a taste of grog before getting on with their work.
One of the other villains rushed across the wardroom and opened the door to her cabin. He went inside, then came rushing back a scant second or two later. The infidel was holding one of her gowns in his hands. It was her light blue dress, her very favorite, and the filthy man had his hands all over it.
She vowed she'd never wear that gown again.
"We got us a woman on board, Captain," the foul man called out.
Their leader stood with his back to Sara so she couldn't get a proper look at his face. She was a little thankful for that reprieve. His size alone was terrifying enough. The man stood shoulder to shoulder with Nathan.
The captain let out a low, disgusting snicker that made Sara feel as though there were bugs crawling all over her skin. "Find the bitch," he ordered. "When I'm finished with her you men can each take a turn."
Sara put her hand over her mouth to keep herself from gagging.
"Ah, Captain," another man called out, "she'll be dead afore we get our chance."
A round of snickers followed that remark. Sara wanted to weep. She'd heard all she wanted to hear about their foul plans. She pinched Nathan again. Harder. She nudged him, too.
He finally gave in to her request. He moved like lightning. He turned into a blur when he rushed toward the two men standing in front of their cabin door. Yet even as he was moving he threw his knife. The blade found its mark between the eyes of a villain lounging by the steps. The shot from his pistol brought down another infidel.
Nathan slammed his shoulders into the two men blocking the door. The force of the blow sent both infidels inside. Nathan followed them. He made short work of the battle by knocking their heads together.
Jimbo used his head to fell the pirates' leader. His hands were still tied behind his back, and the hit only knocked the captain off balance. He was quick to recover. He clipped Jimbo on the side of his neck and shoved him to the floor. The captain kicked him aside. It wasn't a terribly accurate kick, though, for the leader wasn't really watching what he was doing. His full attention was centered on digging the pistol out of his pocket.
Nathan had just started out the doorway when the leader raised his pistol. There was venom in his voice when he hissed, "You're going to die slow and painfully."
Sara was too outraged to be afraid. She skirted her way around the screen and silently moved to stand directly behind the villain's back. Then she pressed the tip of her pistol against the base of his skull. "You're going to die quick and easy," she whispered.
When the leader felt the touch of cold steel he went as rigid as a day-old corpse. Sara was pleased by that reaction. So was Nathan, she noticed. He actually smiled.
She smiled back. Things weren't looking so very bleak, she thought. Still, she didn't know if she'd be able to kill the man. It was a test she didn't want to fail. Her husband's life was dependent upon her courage, after all.
"Nathan?" she called out. "Would you like me to shoot between the ears or in the neck this time?"
That bluff worked nicely. "This time?" her victim strangled out.
It wasn't good enough, though. He was still pointing his pistol at Nathan.
"Yes, this time, you stupid man," she said. She tried to make her voice sound as mean as possible, and thought she'd succeeded rather well, too.
"What's your preference?" Nathan called out. He deliberately leaned against the side of the doorway, giving the appearance of being very relaxed.
"The neck," Sara answered. "Don't you remember the mess it was cleaning up after the last one? The stains didn't come out for a week. Still, this infidel seems to have a smaller brain. Oh, you decide. I'm ever obedient."
The leader's hand fell to his side, and his pistol dropped to the floor. Sara thought victory was secure, yet before Nathan could get to the man he suddenly whirled around. The back of his fist slammed into her left cheek in an awkward move to knock the pistol out of her hand.
Sara heard Nathan's roar. She staggered backwards, tripped over Jimbo's big feet, and promptly discharged the pistol. A howl of pain followed that sound, and her enemy grabbed at his face.
It seemed to take her a long, long time to fall to the floor. Everything was in slow motion, and her last thought before she let her faint overtake her was a horrifying one. Good God, she'd shot the villain in his face.
Sara awakened a few minutes later. She found herself in bed with Matthew and Jimbo both leaning over her. Matthew held a cold cloth to the side of her face. Jimbo fanned her with one of the charts from Nathan's desk.
Her husband wasn't there. As soon as Sara realized that fact she tossed the coverlet aside and tried to stand up. Jimbo pressed her back down. "Stay put, Sara. You took quite a hit. The side of your face is already swelling up."
She ignored his instructions. "Where's Nathan?" she asked. "I want him here with me."
Before Jimbo could answer her he found himself sitting on the bed. Sara snatched the cold cloth away from Matthew and began to clean the cut in Jimbo's forehead.
"The woman's little, but she's mighty when she's riled, isn't she, Matthew?" Jimbo muttered, trying to sound surly. "Quit your fussing over me," he grumbled.
She didn't pay any attention to that dictate. "Matthew, do you think he's going to be all right? The cut doesn't look overly deep to me, but perhaps…"
"He'll be fine," Matthew answered.
Sara nodded. Then she turned the topic back to her other worry. "A husband should comfort his wife when she's been felled," she announced. "Anyone with an ounce of sense would know that. Matthew, go and fetch Nathan. By God, he's going to comfort me, or I'll know the reason why."
"Now, Sara," Matthew interjected, using his soothing tone of voice, "your husband happens to be the captain of this ship, and he's having to see to a few important… details right now. Besides, you wouldn't want his company just yet. The boy's in a killing rage."
"Because the pirates boarded his fine ship?"
"Because the bastard struck you, Sara," Jimbo muttered. "You were sleeping, Sara, after that hit, so you didn't get to see your husband's face. It was a sight I won't soon forget. I've never seen him so furious."
"That's nice to know," Sara whispered.
The two shipmates shared a look of true exasperation. Sara ignored the men, for she'd just remembered the mortal sin she'd committed. "Oh, God, I shot their leader in his face," she cried out. "I'm damned to hell now, aren't I?"
"You were saving your husband at the time," Jimbo interjected. "You won't be going to hell, Sara."
"He'll be… ugly for the rest of his days," she whispered.
"Nay, Sara, he already was ugly," Matthew told her.
"I wished you'd killed the bastard," Jimbo said. "As it is, you just shot his nose-"
"My God, I shot his-"
"You're getting her all worked up, Jimbo," Matthew muttered.
"Did I shoot that poor man's nose completely off his face?"
"Poor man?" Jimbo scoffed. "He's the devil's own, that one. Do you know what would have happened to you if-"
"The bastard's still got a nose," Matthew interjected. He gave his friend a dark scowl. "Quit worrying her, Jimbo," he ordered before turning back to Sara. "You just put a little hole in his nose, that's all."
"You saved the day, Sara," Jimbo told her then.
That remark did cheer her up considerably. "I did save the day, didn't I?"
Both men nodded.
"Does my staff know I…" She quit her question when they nodded again. "Well, then, they can't think me cursed any longer, can they?"
Before either man could answer that question she asked another. "What details did Nathan have to see about?"
"Retaliation," Jimbo announced. "It will be an eye for an eye, Sara. They were going to kill us-"
He never finished his explanation. Lady Sara let out an outraged gasp and ran out of the cabin. Both Jimbo and Matthew chased after her.
Nathan was standing by the wheel. The pirates who'd tried to take over their ship were lined up across the deck. Nathan's men surrounded them.
Sara hurried over to her husband's side. She touched his arm to gain his attention. He didn't look at her but kept his gaze directed on the leader of the pirates standing a few feet away from him.
When Sara looked at the man she instinctively took a step forward. The villain had a rag in his hands and was holding it against his nose. She wanted to tell him she was sorry she'd injured him. She also wanted to remind him that it was all his fault, for if he hadn't struck her, the pistol wouldn't have gone off.
Nathan must have guessed her intention. He grabbed her arm in a hold that stung and literally jerked her up against his side.
"Go back below," he ordered in a soft don't-you-dare-argue-with-me tone of voice.
"Not until you tell me what you're going to do to them," she announced.
Nathan might have been able to soften the truth for his gentle wife's benefit if he hadn't glanced down at her first. As soon as he saw the swelling on the side of her face his rage returned full force. "We're going to kill them."
He turned back to his crew before giving her his order again. "Go back to our cabin, Sara. It will be over in a few minutes."
She wasn't going anywhere. She folded her arms in front of her and stiffened her posture. "You will not kill them."
She'd shouted that command. She'd gained her husband's full attention, too. And his wrath. He looked like he wanted to kill her.
"The hell I won't," he countered in a low growl.
Sara heard several grunts of approval from Nathan's men. She was about to repeat her disapproval, but Nathan took the bluster right out of her when he suddenly reached out and gently touched the side of her face. He leaned down just a little and then whispered, "He hurt you, Sara. I have to kill him."
It all made perfectly good sense to him, and he thought he'd been very reasonable by taking the time to explain his determination to her. She didn't understand, though. The incredulous look on her face indicated as much.
"Do you mean to tell me that you would kill everyone who has ever struck me?" she asked.
He didn't care for the censure in her voice. "Damn right," he muttered.
"Then you're going to have to kill half my family," she blurted out.
Lord, she really shouldn't have said that, she realized. He looked bloody furious again. Yet his voice was surprisingly mild when he gave her his answer. "You give me the names, Sara, and I'll retaliate. I promise you. No one touches what belongs to me."
"Aye, m'lady," Chester bellowed. "We mean to kill every last one of these bastards. It's our right," he added.
"Chester, if you use another blasphemy in my presence, I'll wash your mouth out with vinegar."
She gave the seaman a hard glare until he nodded, then turned back in time to catch Nathan's grin. "Nathan, you're the captain," she said. "Only you can make this important decision. Since I'm your wife, I should be able to sway you, shouldn't I?"
"No."
Oh, he was a stubborn one, she thought. "I won't have it," she shouted. The urge to stomp his foot was fairly overwhelming. "If you kill them, you're no better than they are. You'll all be villains then, Nathan, and since I'm your wife, I would also be a villain."
"But m'lady, we are villains." Ivan the Terrible made that statement.
"We are not villains," Sara announced. "We are all law-abiding, loyal citizens of the crown."
Sara's distress finally penetrated Nathan's fury. He put his arm around her shoulders. "Now, Sara-"
"Don't you dare now-Sara me," she interrupted. "Don't use that condescending tone of voice, either. You aren't going to be able to soothe me into allowing murder."
He wasn't in the mood to soothe or discuss, but he knew he was going to have to get her to go below before he unleashed his anger full force. He thought about ordering Jimbo to drag her down the stairs, then changed his mind and settled on an alternative plan of action. "Democracy will rule in this instance," he announced. "I'll put it to the vote of my men, Sara. Will that appease you?"
He was fully prepared for an argument before she gave in and was quite surprised when she immediately nodded. "Yes, that will certainly appease me."
"Fine," he replied. He turned back to the crew. "All those in favor-"
The hands were already going up into the air when Sara interrupted. "Just one minute, if you please."
"Now what?" Nathan growled.
"I have something to say to my staff before this vote is taken."
"Hell."
"Nathan, did I or did I not save the day?"
That question caught him off guard. Sara pressed her advantage. "Jimbo said I saved the day. Now I would like to hear you admit it, too."
"I had a plan," Nathan began. "But… hell, Sara, yes," he added with a sigh. "You saved the day. Happy now?"
She nodded.
"Then go below," he ordered again.
"Not just yet," she replied. She turned and smiled at her staff. She couldn't help but notice how impatient the men looked. That didn't deter her, however. "You all know that I was the one who untied Nathan," she called out. She realized that statement not only sounded like a boast but also made her husband sound a bit incapable. "Though, of course, he would have… untied himself if I hadn't beat him to the task, you see, and he did have a plan-"
"Sara," Nathan began in a warning tone of voice.
She quit rambling, straightened her shoulders, and then said, "And I shot the leader, though I'll admit to you that I didn't mean to hurt the man. Now he'll carry a scar for the rest of his days, and that should be enough punishment for anyone."
"It was a paltry hit at best," one of the men called out. "The shot went clean through his nostrils."
"She should have blown his head off," another shouted.
"Aye, she should have blinded him at the very least," yet another called out.
My God, they were a bloodthirsty lot, she thought. Sara took a deep breath and tried again. She waved her hand toward the pirate's leader and said, "That man has suffered enough."
"Yes, Sara," Matthew interjected with a grin. "He'll be thinking of you every time he's wanting to blow his nose."
A hearty round of laughter followed that remark. Then Chester took a threatening step forward. His hands were on his hips when he bellowed, "He won't be thinking about anything much longer. None of them will. They'll all be fish bait if the vote goes the way I'm thinking it will."
The vehemence in his tone unnerved Sara. She instinctively backed away from him until she was literally leaning against her husband's chest.
Nathan couldn't see her face, but he knew she was afraid. Without a thought as to why he was doing so he put his arm across her shoulders. She rested her chin on his wrist.
His touch had taken her fear away. She glared at Chester and said, "Were you born with a sour disposition, sir?"
The seaman didn't have a ready answer for that question and shrugged in reaction.
"All right, then," Sara shouted. "Have your vote." She pushed Nathan's arm away and took a step forward. "Just remember this," she hastily added when the hands shot back up in the air. "I'm going to be very disappointed if any of you vote in favor of death. Very disappointed," she added in a dramatic tone of voice. "If, on the other hand, you vote to toss the villains overboard and let them swim back to their ship, I would be very pleased. Does everyone understand my position?"
She scanned her audience until each man had given her a nod.
"That's it?" Nathan asked. He sounded incredulous. "That's all you have to say to sway the men?"
He actually smiled at her. She smiled back. "Yes, Nathan. You may vote now. I don't think you should be allowed to vote, though."
"Why not?" he asked before he could stop himself.
"Because you aren't thinking straight now."
The look on his face told her he didn't understand. "You see, Nathan, you're still very angry because… your dear wife was injured."
"My dear wife?"
She gave him a disgruntled look. "Me."
God, she was exasperating. "I know who the hell my wife is," he grumbled.
"Just leave it to your crew to decide," she prodded.
He agreed just to get her to leave. Sara forced a smile when she picked up her skirt and strolled toward the steps.
"Stay inside your cabin, Sara, until this is finished," Matthew ordered.
She could feel every man's gaze on her. She knew they were all waiting until she was out of sight before going forward with their shameful intentions. Jimbo had even closed the trapdoor to her cabin, she noticed, probably so that the horrid noise wouldn't reach her.
She didn't feel at all guilty for what she was about to do. Her motives were as white as fresh snow. She couldn't let her staff murder the pirates, no matter how dastardly their behavior had been; and once her men rid themselves of their anger they'd be thankful she'd intervened.
Sara stopped when she reached the top step. She didn't turn around. Her voice was very pleasant when she called out to her husband. "Nathan? I won't be waiting in the cabin, but do send someone to tell me how the voting went. I want to know if I should be disappointed or not."
Nathan frowned over that odd request. He knew she was up to something, but he couldn't imagine what she could possibly do to sway the men's minds.
"Where will you be waiting, m'lady?" Jimbo called out.
Sara turned around so that she could see their expressions when she gave her answer. "I'll be waiting in the galley."
It didn't take most of the men any time at all to catch her meaning. They looked horrified. Nathan, she noticed, was grinning at her. She glared back. Then she addressed her staff. "I didn't want to have to resort to such tactics, men, but you've left me with no alternative. The vote had better not disappoint me."
A few of the less astute seamen still didn't understand the hidden threat. Chester fell into that group. "What would you be doing in the galley, m'lady?"
Her answer was immediate. "Making soup."