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When we finally gained the deck, I held Brandon close and glared at Jacobs, too winded to speak. He shrugged. “Sorry, sir, but he startled me, and my first instinct was to dodge him. I thought he’d catch himself. What’s wrong with him to cause him to fall around that way?”
He glanced back over the rail into the wild, white capped sea below. I ignored his question, told myself it would be a bad idea to toss him overboard and picked Brandon up to carry him below to his own cabin. At least we’d be out of the wind, and I could get him stripped of his wet clothing and covered in a blanket. We were in southern seas, but that didn’t make them or the winds warm at this time of year. We’d both be lucky not to fall ill, and I knew we’d had a narrow escape. Our heavy woolen clothing might have dragged us under in minutes if I hadn’t gotten to him in time. Jacob trailed along behind us.
Once in Brandon’s cabin, I quickly laid him on the floor, since there was no bed and started stripping the wet clothing off.
“Don’t just stand there—hand me a blanket!”
Jacobs passed me one from a hammock strung up along the wall. “Turn your back, damn it,” I snarled at Jacobs, and quickly stripped the wet things off Brandon and wrapped him up in the blanket. I stood up and motioned down at him.
“Take him to the ship and put him in my cabin on my bed. And if there are any more ‘accidents’ it will mean your life, do you understand me?”
“Aye, I do, Captain.”
“See to it then, and I’ll come as soon as I oversee the transfer of this cargo. We’ll put the captives in lifeboats and then sink the ship. A salute from me to King Harrison.”
“What about the other passenger sir? Will we ransom him too?”
“No, I’ll let him go with the others. I have the prize I was after.”
Chapter Three
Brandon
I came back around slowly, aware that my jaw was throbbing. I remembered struggling with Roxbury in the water, so I could only assume he had hit me and knocked me out. I think he thought I was panicking and maybe I was. I got tired more easily now, though I still think I could have rescued myself, and there was no need to strike me so hard.
He had no way of knowing about my previous injuries, of course, but now I had a sore jaw on top of everything else. I sat up slowly, looking around me. I was in a good-sized cabin, nicely appointed. The built-in bed was big enough for two people, and I knew sometimes ship’s captains took their spouses onboard with them, which might explain why it was so large for a sailing ship. I was naked under the blanket, so I glanced around for my clothes, but saw no sign of them.
There was a large porthole over the bed, and I sat up to look out. The only sign of land was a slight glimpse of purple shoreline far in the distance, so we still must be on a western heading, away from Sudfarma. I was thinking of searching for clothes in the sea chest by the foot of the bed when the door opened abruptly, and Roxbury sauntered in.
“Roxbury,” I said softly. “I thought I might have been dreaming.” He glanced over at me and frowned.
“I told you that Roxbury is not my name anymore.”
“Then what should I call you?”
“The name is Captain Devane, like I said. Jack Devane.”
“Jack? Why would I call you that?”
He scowled at me. “Because it’s my name, and I told you to, though actually, I don’t know why you do anything. Your thought processes are a complete mystery to me.”
“There’s no need to be rude. But I won’t call you by some made up name.”
“Every name is essentially made up, dearie. But suit yourself. You always do.”
I made a huffing sound. “Dearie…you make me sound like my maiden aunt. Talk sense, damn it. What did you do with the captain and the crew?”
“Of the ship you were traveling on? Put them on boats and sent them toward shore. They should be there about now. Seas are fairly calm, and it’s not more than a mile or two to shore, so they’d have had little trouble.”
“I see. And the ship?”
“I scuttled it and sent it to the bottom of the ocean. With my compliments to your cousin.” He gave me a smirk and threw himself into his big captain’s chair behind his desk. I took the opportunity to look him over thoroughly, having until recently thought I’d never be able to look on his face again. I drank him in, and I couldn’t help it. It had been far too long since I’d last seen him. That didn’t mean I wasn’t still furious with him.
The years had been kind to him, though. He was now, at the age of twenty-seven, as tall as Asher and as muscular as Wyatt. His hair was the same wild tangle, and black as sin. He had braids in his short beard and a gold earring in one ear. His eyes were as wild and stormy and untamed as the sea, and he wore a battered tri-corner hat, a short jacket and tight breeches over his boots. He looked like a devil, and he was as beautiful as one. The trouble was, he no doubt knew it.
He was also quite obviously furious with me, though I wasn’t sure why. Surely, he couldn’t still be holding some kind of silly grudge from ten years ago. Not after so much time had passed. No way he’d be so foolish.
“Why are you so angry?”
