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Cassie felt a wet strand of hair fall over her cheek. In a slow, deliberate motion, she licked at the strand until it fell into her mouth.
“Yes,” she said, her eyes going wide and vacant. “He does not wish others to know of my madness. He promised many years ago that he would wed me. He saved me from Bedlam, sir, by taking me from England.”
Khar El-Din shifted angrily in his chair and spat at the earl, “What inane jest is this? Do you take me for a fool?”
The earl only nodded, wearily.
Cassie wrapped her arms about her waist and began to rock in huge dips in her chair. She mumbled an old nursery rhyme from her childhood.
Khar El-Din swiveled back in his chair toward her and she saw doubt narrow his eyes.
“I am not always so, sir,” she said in a high child’s voice. “They called me a witch, a witch with evil powers, for I made a man die because he dared to touch me. I cannot be certain that it was I who was responsible, but he died so quickly afterward, choking to death over his wine.”
Khar El-Din thrust his empty wine glass into Scargill’s hand. He drew back from her, and Cassie saw in his eyes that he believed her to be evil, mad. He rose quickly and stared down at the earl’s drawn face. “You are a fool, Antonio, with your English honor. Let me drown her for you, ’twill most likely save your life. I knew a woman like her once, afflicted with the same madness. I had her stoned before she could devour men’s souls.”
The earl’s growing pain kept the tempted smile from his face. “Nay, my friend, as I told you, she is my responsibility. I will take her to Genoa and hide her away. No one need ever know.”
The pirate looked at her once more, and she forced a wide smile to her lips. How could such a beautiful, innocent face cloak madness? He shook his head and strode to the door.
“May Allah protect you. I hope to hear of your speedy recovery, my friend. Addio.”
“A rivederci.”
None of them moved or spoke until Mr. Donnetti appeared in the doorway. “He’s gone, captain. And by the look on his face, I’d say he had seen the devil himself.”
“He has just made the acquaintance of a witch, Francesco,” the earl said. The smile on his lips turned to a grimace.
“Well done, madonna,” Scargill said, beaming at her with approval. He turned briskly back to the earl. “Ye can explain to Francesco later, my lord. Now, I must draw out the ball.”
“I cannot eat more, Scargill,” Cassie said with a sigh, and pushed her plate away. The little food she had eaten lay heavy in her stomach. She glanced toward the earl, stretched on his back, a light cover drawn to his waist. The white bandages over his shoulder were stark against his deeply tanned body and the black hair on his chest.
“How long will he sleep?”
“If we are lucky, until morning. Thank the lord that the ball wasn’t deep. If there is no infection, he should be quickly on the mend.” No thanks to you, his eyes told her, and she looked away from him. She rose, shook out her skirts, and walked slowly toward the door.
Scargill’s sharp voice forestalled her. “Nay, madonna. I promised his lordship that I’d not let ye out of the cabin. It’s here ye’ll stay until he tells me otherwise.”
“You think I would jump overboard in my skirts?”
“I wouldn’t have thought that ye’d have shot him, madonna. Nor would I have believed that wounded like he was, he’d still have gone in after ye.”
She felt drained, both emotionally and physically. “Was I so very wrong, Scargill? What would you do, pray, if you were held against your will and saw an opportunity to escape? I did not want to shoot him, but he tried to stop me.”
“Aye
, he would. But do not try to draw me into an argument with ye, madonna, for it will gain ye naught.” He began to clear away the plates from the table.
Cassie walked slowly to the settee and sat down. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back. The events of the day, jostled and fragmented, whirled through her mind. She heard the deafening report of the pistol, felt her arm beneath his chin as his weight and her fatigue threatened to pull them both into the depths of the sea. She saw the pirate, Khar El-Din, his fierce blue eyes boring into her.
“Can I trust ye alone with him?”
She shook away her lie of madness and saw Scargill standing uncertainly at the door.
“You believe that I would smother him with a pillow?”
Scargill ignored the irony in her voice and allowed a faint smile to crease the corners of his mouth. “No, it was a foolish question. After all, ye could have left him to drown, but ye didn’t. We will hope that that is what the men will remember and not yer shooting their captain. Go to sleep now, madonna, it has been a long day. I’ll be in during the night to check on his lordship.” He turned away from her, and she heard him turn the key in the lock.
Yes, she thought, her eyes again on the earl’s motionless body, a long day and one that I am ending just as I began it—your prisoner. She wearily tugged off her clothes and curled up on the settee.
