The Pirate and the Puritan (30 page)

No, he’d been no dream. His
essence lingered in the cabin as clearly as the warmth left over from the hot
day. But he was gone now, and she couldn’t go chasing him around the ship in
her nightclothes, or anything else for that matter. She retreated under the
covers and recalled his caress and his plea. Fortunately, her father’s face
obliterated the softening creeping through her limbs and around her heart. To
hold Drew within her body again, she might be able to turn her back on
everything she believed, but she could not turn her back on her father.

When Drew was out of sight, her
loyalties were without question. If her father was to have any chance at all,
they must remain that way. She must get off Drew’s ship. No matter the risk to
herself or to Drew, she had to set things right. She had to let the authorities
know the truth. Her father wasn’t going to take the blame for Drew’s deeds.

The next time temptation came to
her in the night with soft whispers, she knew she would relent. The cost of her
weakness would be her soul and her father’s life. She might be willing to
sacrifice the first, but the latter would surely destroy her. More danger
threatened her in the confines of these four walls than did on the rest of the
ship.

The pretty barmaid set a bottle
of rum on the scarred table and winked at Drew. She reminded him of Felicity.
Not because the slender blonde resembled Felicity in the slightest. It was just
that she was female. Actually, every damn thing conjured images of Felicity.

He should have stayed away from
her room last night. The pain of being physically near her, yet knowing she
despised him, haunted him all day. Their arrival in New Providence should have
turned his thoughts to the business at hand. But instead of studying the
scarred faces that roamed the cobblestone streets, he found himself distracted.

He uncorked the bottle. After
filling a battered tankard for Solomon and then himself, Drew drank deeply. The
cheap rum burned his throat and made his eyes water. He had to get a hold on
himself.

Forcing a smile, he glanced at
the barmaid. She must be new to the island. Though the front two were seriously
bucked, she had all her teeth, and her skin glowed with a slight tan instead of
bruises. Women didn’t stay pretty long on New Providence.

Between his thumb and index
finger, he held up a gold doubloon. He turned the coin until it caught the
light pouring in from the large glassless windows cut in the tavern’s front.
“I’m looking for a man who looks like me. He calls himself
El Diablo
.
Have you seen him?”

She reached for the coin,
purposely caressing Drew’s fingers in the process. He moved his hand and let
her have the coin.

A seductive smile curled her
lips. “No. I can’t say I’ve seen anyone as handsome as you, love.”

Her mouth was thin and even more
so when she grinned, nothing like Felicity’s full...

“Surely you’ve heard of a pirate
using that name. I’ve been told he has a king’s ransom on his head.”

“If you’re after the reward, you
best be quick. His Majesty’s men came ’round not but an hour ago asking the
same thing. Those Redcoats drove away the business, they did. Could be
fortunate for you, though. With my customers scared off, I haven’t a thing to
do for the rest of the afternoon.”

“Nothing would please me more,
but I fear I have a matter to settle with
El Diablo
that takes priority
over my own pleasures.”

The lie rolled smoothly off his
tongue, rewarding him with the barmaid’s promise to save any new information
for his ears alone. The urgency to find the man who had killed Marley was real
enough, but he had no desire to rise to her offer. Felicity had at least
temporarily soured him on all other women. Maybe forever. If only he could
handle her with the ease with which he had enlisted the barmaid’s loyalty.
Felicity would have served him his tongue on toast if he’d dared to have
attempted to sway her with such honeyed lies.

Solomon toyed with his untouched
tankard of rum. “That wasn’t wise. Calling attention to the fact that you hold
a remarkable likeness to
El Diablo
cannot be healthy. The woman could
tell the British about you for the reward you were thoughtful enough to
mention.”

Drew shrugged. “We don’t have
time for subtleties.”

Solomon’s brow furrowed. “I could
have made inquiries without you. You should have stayed aboard the ship.”

“No. I couldn’t.” He’d rather be
chased by a platoon of Redcoats than stay on his ship a moment longer.
Felicity’s animosity had started to seep through the walls.

To Drew’s relief, Solomon had
ignored his dark mood through their search of New Providence’s crowded
waterfront. Admitting he was upset would be akin to acknowledging how much he’d
come to care for Felicity. He hoped his other unwanted conclusion was more
mental flogging brought on by his rift with Felicity, rather than the only
solution to his problem.

“The Redcoats are scouring the
Caribbean for
El Diablo
and you’re tossing pilfered doubloons like they
were a mere pittance. You couldn’t make it any more obvious that you’re a
pirate.” Solomon kept his voice low and calm, but his dark stare bored a hole
through Drew.

“They’re Spanish doubloons. The
British would probably congratulate me.”

Drew poured himself more rum. The
pressure of Solomon’s hand on his arm stopped him from bringing the tankard to
his lips.

“What the hell are you doing?”
Drew asked in a low, dangerous voice.

Solomon removed his hand when
Drew lowered the mug. “I was about to ask you the same thing. Or rather, what
did she do?”

Drew had been dreading that
question. Solomon was too smart not to figure out that Felicity was at the root
of his foul temper. “If you’re going to rub your infernal good sense in my
face, the least you could do is let me get drunk first.”

“Do you want to die, Drew?
Stumble drunk from this establishment and someone will likely slit your throat
for tossing around gold coins faster than the British can hang you.”

Drew lowered his gaze and
massaged his forehead. His strained nerves could not stand a confrontation with
his closest ally. “Felicity knows everything.”

“I don’t doubt our Miss Kendall
believes she knows everything, but we both suspected that from the beginning.”

Drew looked down at his full
tankard of rum with longing. Solomon was going to force him to say it.

“Somehow she left my cabin and
talked to McCulla, and she knows I’m
El Diablo
. Should I tell you that
you were right about her now, or can we save it for a time when I’m feeling
less inept?”

“I took Felicity from the cabin.”
Solomon curled his hand around the tankard. Though Solomon didn’t drink, Drew
thought Felicity might have driven him to it. “She saved Avery Sneed’s life. If
you need to blame someone, blame me. Don’t punish her.”

Drew shook his head. Convincing
Solomon to ignore his orders proved Felicity’s abilities had no end. He was
even defending her. Drew certainly couldn’t blame Solomon for withering under
her demands. If she remained in her current state of mind, he was as good as
hanged.

“Your punishment for disobeying
an order is to deal with Felicity for the rest of our journey. I know it’s
harsh, but there’s no choice. She detests me.”

Solomon’s expression hardened
into a threat. “Felicity Kendall isn’t like your other women. You can’t use
her, then toss her aside without a second thought.”

“I’m the one who’s been tossed
aside.” Drew leaned back in his chair. “She thinks I killed Marley and
Beatrice. She’s convinced I seduced her to gain her cooperation.”

“What did she say when you told
her the truth?” asked Solomon.

Drew scanned the room, making
Solomon wait for his answer. It seemed the British had indeed turned the Fatted
Pig, a place known for the availability of every excess known to man, into a
dusty tomb. Two well-worn pirates, one missing an arm, the other a piece of his
nose, occupied a table in front of one of the large windows, capturing the
breeze from the bay. Solomon and he were the only other patrons besides the men
he had posted at the door and the long bar at the back. The delay didn’t help
him come up with a decent response to Solomon’s question.

He had acted like a complete ass.
The fact that it was for her own good didn’t ease either Felicity’s or his own
suffering. “I didn’t say anything. I let her believe the worst.”

Solomon leaned forward. “Do not
underestimate Miss Kendall. You need to explain yourself to her.”

Drew had bungled the chance to
explain things. An attempt to do so now would be met with fierce rebukes. She’d
never believe another word from him as long as he lived. “No. You were right
about Felicity from the beginning. I never should have brought her onboard.”

Solomon shook his head. “I was
wrong about Felicity but right about you. Miss Kendall demands to be treated
with honesty. She likes to make her own choices. When given the opportunity and
the correct information, she is fair.”

“She found that bloody flag. What
could I say to that?” Drew should have realized the flag would cause him
nothing but grief. All the other pirates who’d created a name for themselves
had a personal standard that struck fear in the hearts of their victims before
a shot had to be fired. When details of Drew’s flag had begun to be whispered
among the Caribbean ports, Drew had actually been thrilled. After years of
being a bastard without name or family, he’d finally reached a level of status
that set him apart from the unwanted child he’d been. No one would look upon
him with scorn ever again—fear maybe, but not scorn. Unfortunately, the devil
was finally calling in his due for fulfilling Drew’s secret desire, and it was
time to pay in full.

“Felicity is a fighter. She
doesn’t always choose the easiest path. It’s obvious she cares for you, and you
owe her a chance to make up her own mind.” Solomon’s words brought Drew out of
his dangerous thoughts.

Drew shook his head. “It’s better
that she hates me. Too many people have suffered because of their association
with me.”

“It is obvious that making her
your enemy is not better for you, and I doubt it has proven to be so for her.
Your distraction could cost you your life. Have you considered what would
happen to her and the rest of us if you were captured or killed?”

Drew tipped back his wooden
chair, balancing it on two legs. He hoped he looked relaxed. Solomon’s question
gave him the chance to finally say out loud the idea he’d struggled with since
he’d cooled from his confrontation with Felicity. Both Felicity and Ben, not to
mention Solomon and his crew, would be a hell of a lot better off if he were
captured. He was the one the British really wanted, whether he was Marley’s
killer or not.

“I think we should consider a
plan to exchange me for Ben.”

Solomon looked absolutely
incredulous for the first time in their acquaintance. He blinked several times
before his eyes narrowed. “And then what?”

Drew had trouble meeting his gaze
and stared down at his tankard instead. The
and then
what
was
something he’d rather not think about. He shrugged. “You take Felicity and Ben
somewhere safe. You can join them. I think Hugh would be better off in the
company of a woman rather than a gang of pirates anyway.”

“You’re serious?” Solomon
continued to stare, forcing Drew to meet his gaze.

“I see no other way.”

“So, you just sacrifice yourself
for all of us? That’s not the way it works. Ben knew what he was getting
himself into when he decided to sell our stolen goods. The Piracy Act is clear
that merchants who deal in pirate contraband are to be treated as pirates. If
the roles were reversed, would you expect Ben to turn himself in to save you?”

Drew might have been able to
accept this reasoning if Felicity wasn’t involved. “If my father hadn’t come to
Barbados, I doubt Ben would have been arrested. I don’t know why I ever thought
pretending to be his legitimate son was a good idea.”

Actually, Drew did know why. He’d
wanted recognition even if he had to steal it, as he’d had to steal every ounce
of pleasure he’d ever gotten out of life. He’d had to steal for his very
survival. Maybe giving it up so easily wasn’t such a good idea after all.

“I won’t let you turn yourself
in. Let’s continue with our plan to find Marley’s killer. Perhaps the man still
has some of Marley’s goods with him. We’ll pay off some magistrate and have him
arrested. Then the Barbadians can hang him and let Ben go.”

Drew shook his head. Solomon’s
plan was weak at best. “That’s not going to satisfy my father.”

“I don’t give a damn if it does
or not. As angry as Felicity is with you at the moment, I don’t think she wants
you to sacrifice yourself, and I know Ben wouldn’t. Let’s wait and see what
happens. They’re holding Ben in hopes of attracting you. If all else fails,
we’ll try to sneak him out of jail.”

Drew took a deep breath, the
first he’d been able to draw since the idea of turning himself in had taken
root. Solomon was right. Now was not the time to give up. Not yet.

Despite the unbearable state of
affairs between him and Felicity, he hoped Solomon was right about her as well.
“I would most dearly relish getting my hands on Marley’s killer, and I suppose
I should try to make peace with Felicity. I couldn’t saddle you with her in her
current state.”

“I’m afraid Miss Kendall proves
unmanageable in any state.”

Drew picked up his tankard,
toasted his friend, then drained its contents. The rum’s bite cleared his head.
Drew innocently shrugged in the face of Solomon’s displeasure.