Care and Feeding of Pirates (32 page)

Christopher slid down and down through a
long, rough-walled tube, banging from rock to rock. With the last
of his strength, he covered his face with his arms, trying to
protect himself.

He tumbled down for a long time while his
skin grew slick with blood. He at times tried to stop his flight on
ledges and rocks, but they cut his hands, evading his grasp. After
a while, Christopher became so numb he scarcely felt the pummeling,
and stopped trying.

The sloping tunnel abruptly ended, and
Christopher fell through empty air. Just when he decided he was
dead, something freezing rose up and swallowed him whole.

*** *** ***

Honoria's sobs had long since ceased. She sat
alone, James's coat over her shoulders, staring at nothing. Night
had fallen, but under the light of lanterns, the men still dug.

Without success. The black boulders that
blocked the entrance wouldn't budge. They'd either have to dig
around them, which was proving impossible, or find another way into
the cave.

James's tall form blocked the light.
"Honoria," he said. He waited a moment for her to respond, then
when she didn't, continued, "We're going back to the cove."

Honoria shook her head without looking up. "I
don't want to."

James sank to his heels, his face at her
level. "You can't do anything here, love. You need to get warm, and
to sleep."

"I don't want to sleep."

"You need to," James repeated stubbornly. "In
the morning, I'll take you back to the
Argonaut
."

Her head snapped up. "You are abandoning
him."

James looked to where his men and
Christopher's still labored. The lamplight made the hard planes of
his face harsher still. "They may eventually break through. But it
might be too late."

He meant that Christopher might already be
dead, suffocated in the closed cave or buried by the debris.
Honoria bowed her head.

She felt her brother's touch on her hair,
surprisingly gentle. "It's best you come with us, Honoria. On the
Argonaut
. Diana will look after you."

Honoria shook her head. "Not yet."

James cupped her face, brushing her cheek
with his thumb. "We should go back to the cove now. I don't want
you to see . . ." He broke off. "We'll take you back to Charleston.
A few days sailing, and we'll be there."

"It is not my home any longer. It's yours,
and Diana's."

James's usual growl softened. "Is that what
you think? It's not true. The Charleston house has always been your
home. I can't imagine it without you in it."

Honoria stared at him dully, not really
hearing him.

James went on. "I never worried about our
home no matter how long I was away. I knew you'd be there, watching
over it better than anyone else ever could. I knew I could always
find rest there." He brushed back her dirty hair. "I want you
there, Honoria. I like knowing you are there."

Honoria looked up at him, her despair making
her bleak. "And what do I know, James?
You
knew I'd always
be at home. What did I know about you? That you'd come home when
you took the whim? Never mind that two, three years would pass
before I saw you or had word from you, when I didn't know whether
you were alive or dead? But that was fine. You'd knew I'd wait.
After all, what choice did I have?"

"I know. You're right. I've been a man
obsessed. It's different now, now that I have Diana. But no matter
what, we need to go down now."

"I can't go. Christopher is my husband. Do
you know what that means?"

"I have some idea," James said.

"No." Honoria rose to her feet. Her legs
shook, and hot pains shot through them. "You have no idea what he
means to me. You do not know anything whatsoever about me."

James caught her as her knees buckled. "Damn
it, Honoria, I'll put you over my shoulder and carry you if I have
to."

She looked into eyes made dark by the lantern
light. James cared, she sensed that, but he did not understand.

"I have to stay here," she said. "I have to
know."

James put his arms around her and gathered
her to him, her older brother who had so seldom showed affection
since Paul had died. "I promise, love, the moment he's found, I'll
tell you." He brushed back a lock of her hair. "But I think you
already know."

In the pit of her stomach rested fear Honoria
did not want to name. She couldn't say a word, couldn't voice what
would take Christopher from her forever.

Without waiting, James led her down the hill.
Honoria collapsed very soon, and he had to carry her the rest of
the way.

*** *** ***

Honoria did sleep, because James made her
drink quite a bit of rum, which filled her with false lassitude.
She lay on blankets in the soft sand, half dizzy. The fire warmed
her feet, the rum warmed her body, and treacherously, she drifted
into slumber.

She dreamed of Christopher. She remembered
the first time she'd seen him, when he'd been young and stunningly
handsome, waiting in the garden room at home for her.

He'd turned when Honoria had pattered in then
given her a long look and a slow grin. "Who do you belong to?"
Christopher had asked.

Not the most auspicious of beginnings, but
Honoria had only been able to stare in delight. Here was her idol,
her fantasy, come to life. She'd stammered something and handed
Christopher the pamphlet that she wanted him to sign, and he'd used
it to tease a kiss from her.

Honoria relived it in her dream. As soon as
Christopher's lips had touched hers, his playfulness had vanished.
Honoria had found herself wrapping her arms around him and holding
on. Christopher had slid his hand to the small of her back and
dipped his tongue inside her mouth.

The kiss had swiftly turned frenzied.
Christopher had scooped her against him, and she'd felt his very
masculine hardness through her thin skirts.

After thoroughly kissing her, Christopher had
lowered Honoria to the floor, his gray eyes heavy with longing.
Strong fingers had loosened her clothes, and then he'd touched her.
Christopher had entered Honoria only with his fingers, but he'd
given her a taste of what it would be like for him to be inside her
fully.

When it was over, Christopher had raised her
to her feet and helped her straighten her clothes. He'd then given
her a quiet look, his arrogance gone, taken her face in his hands,
and drawn his thumbs across her cheekbones.

Just when Honoria had thought he'd tell her
he loved her, Christopher had straightened up, deliberately winked,
and said, "Good to meet you, Miss Ardmore," and strolled away.

Nine years later, Christopher's
devil-may-care bearing had all but gone. His swagger had vanished,
but Christopher had given Honoria the ghost of his cocky grin when
she'd been admitted to the prison cell in the fort. Christopher
might have been condemned to death, but his strength had not
dimmed.

As soon as the jailor had left them alone,
Christopher had crushed Honoria in his arms and kissed her without
even saying hello.

"Honoria." He'd said, easing away from her.
"You are the best sight I could ever hope to see."

Honoria had touched his face, wondering that
they'd come together again, so sad that it would be for the last
time. "I love you," she'd whispered.

They'd consummated their love that time, on
the stone floor. Then Honoria married him.

Once they were man and wife, Christopher had
said, "I love you, Honoria. I've always loved you."

Honoria seemed to hear him say it now, as
though he knelt next to her and whispered it into her ear. But
Christopher was truly dead this time, buried in the cave under rock
and mud. James had saved him from the hangman four years ago, but
he'd not been able to save Christopher today.

Honoria
. The call was slightly more
insistent and tinged with annoyance.

Gasping, Honoria woke. Stars had spread out
above her, the fire had died to a hot glow, and every man around
her was asleep.

She sat up. Far out to sea, the two ships
rocked, lit by moonlight and starlight. The men on the beach slept,
wrapped in blankets or sprawled on top of them. Even James was
asleep, a blanket around his shoulders, his back against the
longboat.

Quietly Honoria shed her quilt and stood up.
Her legs ached, and her head hurt. Not bothering with her boots,
she walked barefoot across the sand, which crumbled beneath her
toes, soft and soothing.

Honoria
. She heard her name again, as
clear as the stars. She walked alone toward the path that led to
the pools, moving numbly toward the voice that called to her.

She came to the large rock at the end of the
path and climbed over it without stopping. Honoria pushed through
the undergrowth, her feet hurting now, and at long last reached the
pool.

It lay still and clear, moonlight rendering
it a silver sheet. Honoria plunged her bruised and cut feet into
the soothing water, closing her eyes, letting the coolness ease
her.

"Honoria."

She snapped her eyes open. Christopher stood
on the other side of the pool, moonlight playing on his body,
rendering his golden hair almost white. His breeches were nothing
but rags, but he walked toward her, through the water, his teasing
smile in place.

"You didn't think it could kill me, did you?"
he asked.

Honoria unfroze. She plunged through the
water, heedless of her skirts, running to him, reaching for him. He
caught her in the middle of the pool and lifted her into his arms,
spinning around with her.

She kissed his lips, his face, as tears
poured down her cheeks. "Christopher," she sobbed. "I love you. I
love you so much."

"I know, sweetheart. I always told you,
didn't I?"

She nuzzled his cheek. "I knew you wouldn't
die."

"I couldn't, could I? With you to come back
to?"

"You love me, don't you?" she asked.

Christopher's smile deepened. "With all my
villainous heart."

Honoria kissed the dragon tattoo his
collarbone. The lines of it were silver, as though it glowed with
inner fire. "Stay with me, Christopher. Forever. Please?"

Christopher went silent. She raised her head,
her blood suddenly chilled. He still smiled, but his gray eyes held
vast sadness. "I can't, angel."

"Why not? Why not? I love you."

He brushed a kiss to her lips. "I know. But
can't stay."

Honoria clutched him, panicked. "No! Please
stay with me. Don't leave me again."

Christopher kissed her again, his strong arms
around her. "You go back to sleep. In the morning, let your brother
take care of you. He's a bastard, but he'll get you home. You'll be
safe once you're home."

Honoria wrenched herself from him and landed
on her feet in the water. "You are my husband. I belong with you. I
love
you
."

Christopher gave her another sad look, his
gray eyes holding the light of the stars. "It doesn't always work
that way, my wife. Good night." He chucked her under the chin, then
turned and walked away from her.

Honoria tried to run after him, but her
sodden skirts tangled her legs, and she couldn't manage a step.
"Christopher!" she shouted.

Christopher continued to walk until he faded
into the shadows under the rocks. He never once looked back.

Honoria's body jerked, and she awoke. She was
lying cocooned in a blanket on the cold sand of the cove, her face
wet with tears. The sun was rising, the men stirred, and James was
talking quietly with one of his crew.

*****

Chapter Twenty-Five

Honoria kicked aside her blankets and got to
her feet, slid on her half boots, and quickly but determinedly made
her way toward the path that led to the pools. She heard James,
ever vigilant, call her name, but she didn't stop.

Honoria's heart beat rapidly, not giving her
much room for breathing. She was gasping by the time she reached
the boulder at the end of the path.

The sunlight had not yet reached beneath the
trees, and the air was cold and filled with mists. Her feet, even
in the boots, ached from the stones she trod on.

Honoria's dream had been vivid, but now she
realized how unreal it truly was. She'd not felt the damp coolness
of the mists, nor the exertion of the walk, nor had she smelled the
decay of the undergrowth or stumbled on the sharp stones. But she'd
heard her name so clearly, in Christopher's voice like broken
gravel.

"Honoria!"

This shout came from behind her. James.

Honoria scrambled around the boulder and
continued to the pool. The rational part of her mind told her she'd
not find Christopher waiting for her, that he'd not walk to her
wearing his grin and not much else. She'd dreamed it all.

But Honoria had to see. She had to know, for
once and for all.

She pushed her way along the path. Flat
leaves slapped her, spraying cold droplets over her face, and her
feet slipped in mud.

Honoria reached the pool just as the sun rose
over the trees and spilled its light into the clearing. The
sunlight fell on the cliff face, wet with falling water, dazzling
her a moment.

Shading her eyes, Honoria peered into the
pool. On the other side of it, in the cold shadows of the cliffs, a
bulk of something floating.

Honoria charged into the pool just as James,
growling, crashed through the undergrowth behind her. Honoria's
skirts tangled her legs, as in her dream, but this time she dragged
them up and out of the way. She heard James splash into the water,
snarling at her to stop.

She reached the shadows of the overhanging
rocks. Christopher floated there, face-up, his eyes closed. His
torso was raw with contusions, his breeches bloody shreds.

Honoria grabbed him under the arms and began
dragging him back into the sunlight. Without a word, James hooked
his arm around Christopher's waist and helped her pull him across
the pool to the bank.