Page 103 of Debtor’s Daughter

Chapter 14

“Wherein a lady may be saved and is none too pleased about it.”

Henri frowned. Her brain felt as though the world had been tipped upside down and everything she had understood had been shaken and upended with it. The pirate, the wicked corsair with a reputation for thievery and seduction, was trying to save her. That in itself was ... quite unbelievable. There was a gnawing uncertainty in her heart that told her she didn’t really want to be saved ... This fact was shocking, and possibly not so far out of character as she might have wished to believe.

“But then ... if that is true, could he not help you too?”

She watched as Lars ... Lawrence shook his head. He smiled but there was an underlying sadness to it she wanted to understand.

“He’s a good man, but he can’t perform miracles.” She saw a shadow enter his eyes and knew the past was stalking him once again. “I’m not sure he’d even want to,” he added, as though talking to himself and then, with sudden anxiety in his eyes. “I wouldn’t blame him,” he said, as if knowing she would and wanting to exonerate the man.

She felt the solid warmth of his hand, as it was still holding hers, and she gave it a slight squeeze, hoping the intimacy of her touch might make him confide in her. “Who is he? Who is he to you?”

He shook his head, and she knew she would not be granted her wish. “Someone I once knew.”

She had no opportunity to question him further as there was a bang on the door. He released her hand and a moment later, Mousy stuck his head around the door.

“Ye need to see this, Cap’n.”

He was out the door before she could utter another word and she was left alone. She shivered. His departure seemed to have robbed her of the heat he had brought, and she felt suddenly cold and sick, and very alone. What was she doing? What in the name of heaven was she doing?

If there really was someone on that ship who could take her back home, back to her life, then she should grab the opportunity with both hands. But even if what he said was true, how was he proposing to get her to him? Henri doubted that the plight of one girl would weigh very heavily on the shoulders of a man who had been sent to hunt down a pirate ship. She could only imagine that whoever was commanding The Revenge had once been his friend. She imagined two young boys and the way life may have conspired to send one on the right path, and one on the wrong. How must it feel to him to see his friend hunting him down to send him to his death?

She felt the slide of ice down her back as it occurred to her just how he might get her to The Revenge. He would give himself up.

Her heart felt as though it had lodged somewhere in her throat, and she scrambled up, snatching her pelisse and pulling it on before she ran out of the cabin and on deck to find Lawrence.

She turned and climbed the steps to the quarter deck where he was standing with Mousy.

“She’s damn fast,” the big man was saying, shaking his head.

Lawrence smiled, and she thought she saw pride in his eyes. “Yes, she is.”

“So why the devil hasn’t she fired on us?” Mousy demanded and they both watched as Lawrence began to pace. “She’s more’n capable of runnin’ rings around this ship,” Mousy continued as his captain’s frown increased. “I’ve been keepin’ ‘er at bay but she’s jus’ shadowin’ us. We make a move, and she does too but shows no sign of wantin’ to take us. Like she jus’ wants us to know she’s there.”

Lawrence suddenly stopped in his tracks and spun around to stare at Henri.

“Why did you come and find me?” he demanded.

Henri started in surprise, taken aback by the fierce tone of his voice.

“Because I need to speak with you, about what you have planned.”

He looked perplexed for a moment and then shook his head. “Not now!” he said, clearly impatient. “The other night, when you sought me out at the Nag’s Head, why did you come? I know you needed money, but what for?”

Henri flushed, and her eyes drifted to Mousy. Remembering what she’d done was humiliating enough without explaining it in front of anyone else. With a huff of annoyance that seemed to mean he understood her reluctance, he grasped her by the wrist and towed her down the steps, pulling her back into his cabin.

“Explain!” he demanded once he’d shut the door.

She bristled at the tone of his voice. “I really don’t think ...”

“Miss Morton,” he said, his voice cool and hard, and dispelling any romantic ideas she may have been harbouring that he cared for her. “I have a ship that is quite capable of sending us all to the devil sitting on my doorstep and yet it doesn’t seem inclined to engage us. I want to know why that is, and I think it has something to do with you.”

She couldn’t understand why he would think that when there was a more obvious reason. “But if this man ... your friend commands it, perhaps he wishes to help you after all?”

For a moment he looked perplexed and then he shook his head, all impatience and brusque movements. “He’s not my friend, and he thinks I’m dead,” he snapped. “No, it’s you. It has to be.”

Henri opened her mouth and closed it again. “I--I,” she stammered as it occurred to her, he might actually be right. She didn’t believe for one moment that her fiancé cared a whit about her or her fate, but he might care that something had been taken from him. In the same way as if Lawrence had stolen a fine painting. Perhaps he had somehow discovered her whereabouts and sent someone to retrieve her for him.