Chapter 28
Elizabeth, along with Jaffa, helped Alexandra to her feet, all the while watching the accused man.
He was of a similar age as his captain, shorter and built like a man accustomed to hard labor.
There was nothing in his looks to distinguish him from any other man crowding the deck, but the sneer on his face, the hatred in his eyes, was blatant.
Nick’s voice was low. “Is it true? Did ye betray me to this thief-taker?” He motioned at Connell, who stood beside Arnold, rubbing his neck.
Alexandra twisted free of Elizabeth’s hold on her arm. Without turning around, she made signals behind her back. Elizabeth did not know if she should be worried or not, but she knew not to draw attention to the gestures.
Arnold glared at Nick. There was no regret, no shame. His lack of a reply was boldly rebellious, and it thickened the air surrounding them.
Elizabeth cast another glance at Fitzwilliam. He stood beside his brother and, while Elizabeth appreciated the loyal gesture, she could not help but wish he would take a few steps away.
“Why’d ye do it?” Nick asked, his tone sharp.
“Amnesty,” Arnold replied mockingly.
“Ye turned me in to clear yer own name when ye knew I was leaving that wretched life?”
The man sneered. “And turn down the opportunity to take command of yer ship under the protection of the Crown? I could continue takin’ ships with the blessin’ of the Admiralty.
I’d be rich. Be called a hero fer freein’ the seas of The Blade.
” Arnold pounded his fist against his chest. “It’d be my name they sang about in the taverns. ”
He raised his other hand from his side, pointing a pistol at Nick, who now had a sword in his hand.
Arnold cackled. “Yer no different from me. Look at ye. Yer fingers are itchin’ to see if ye can run me through ‘fore I shoot ye.” He had the impudence (or, Elizabeth thought, the stupidity) to stretch his neck, offering a larger target.
As though he wanted Nick to exact his revenge.
Fitzwilliam watched Nick as intently as Elizabeth did, willing him to act wisely.
Elizabeth had no air in her lungs, but a bit of breath still whooshed over her lips when, with a flick of his wrist so fast she did not know what she had seen, he sent Arnold’s pistol clattering to the floor.
Nick’s blade pointed steadily at Arnold’s throat.
Elizabeth had never seen anything like it.
One thrust, and he had completely disarmed his enemy. Arnold’s life was in Nick’s hands.
Nick raised the sword into the air, beckoning everyone’s attention. “I’ll not give ye the easy way out. Let it be known ye’re a lily-livered coward who betrayed his mate. That’s the song they’ll sing about ye.” He stabbed his sword into the deck.
Out of the corner of her eye, Elizabeth saw Alexandra reach into her boot.
Elizabeth grabbed her hand before she could extract her knife.
Resenting how short-lived her relief a moment ago had been, Elizabeth whispered, “If you act in rage now, they shall retaliate. Arnold will shoot Nicholas.” Or Fitzwilliam.
“Your men would fight for you, and many of them would die.”
Jutting her chin toward Connell and Arnold, Alexandra hissed, “Their kind don’t deserve to live. One flick of me wrist, and I’ll make sure the world’s never plagued by their offspring.”
Pirate justice was harsh, indeed. “I shall do my best to stay on your good side. God forbid I ever provoke your anger.”
Alexandra moved her hand away from her boot, a tear trickling down her cheek. “They maimed me ship. Me lovely Fancy. They must pay.”
“The Fancy can be repaired,” Elizabeth reassured her, looking to Jaffa. He nodded in affirmation, and she continued, “You and Nicholas are alive. Do not waste your future on those men who mean nothing to you. Think beyond this moment.”
Speaking of worthless men, Arnold spoke. “Ye’ll regret crossin’ me.” He gestured at Fitzwilliam. “This is yer brother. He called the gent behind ye ‘Uncle.’ Ye takin’ up with highborn folks now, eh? We’ll see how good ye are with that blade when I picks ‘em off one by one.”
“That is enough from you, Mr. Arnold,” Connell said, reaching behind him. A man slapped a pair of irons into his palm. “I am here to arrest Nicholas Blackburne on the charge of piracy. I have no bone to pick with anyone else here.”
Fitzwilliam folded his arms over his chest beside his brother.
Elizabeth looked around her, but Alexandra had slipped away. She looked at Jaffa, but he put his finger over his lips.
Lord Matlock stepped forward, flanking Nick on the other side.
Elizabeth instantly liked him. She saw where Fitzwilliam’s unbending loyalty came from as well as his uncompromising determination.
“The ship is sinking,” Lord Matlock reported.
“The men are pumping water as quickly as they can, and my son is helping them move the ballast to lift the injured side out of the water, but unless we wish to go down with her, we had better continue this discussion elsewhere.”
This discussion. That was one way to put it. Elizabeth ought to have swooned as much as she had held her breath over the past quarter of an hour. Or five minutes. Or an hour. Elizabeth could not be sure, nor did she have the audacity to inquire about the time just then.
Connell stepped toward Nick. “I will not leave without my prisoner. I caught him, fair and square. He is my prize.”
Lord Matlock said, “He was released under my custody, yet you dare defy my authority and that of the magistrate.”
“I did not chase him over the Atlantic and back not to get my reward. He is a criminal—a plague on humankind. He deserves to hang. Surely you see that, Your Lordship.”
“If he did not have such a large reward attached to his capture, you would not care so much about justice. If it is the money you desire, I am prepared to pay the amount to you myself.”
Arnold jabbed Connell in the ribs. “He’s tryin’ to buy ye off, but ye stick it to him good. He knows ye can take his name to the papers. Tell how he housed and protected a known, feared pirate; how he attempted to bribe ye to save his criminal nephew.”
Gaining courage in the turncoat’s support, Connell said, “How would your peers like to know about the black mark on your family name?”
Arnold cackled. “They won’t be invitin’ ye over fer tea no more!”
A shrill whistle pierced Elizabeth’s eardrums. She lifted her shoulders to shield them.
Alexandra stepped forward, slipping her hand around Nick’s arm. “While ye fools were busy gabbin’ and breathin’ threats, me men saw fit to take yer little clipper.”
So that was what Alexandra had meant when she said she would make the men pay for injuring her Fancy. Elizabeth knew it was wicked of her to be impressed, but she was.
The men standing behind Arnold and Connell spun around to see dozens of pistols aimed at them, the crew that had been left behind bound and tied. Alexandra’s crew saluted with their free hands. Impertinent lot. Much like their captain. Much, Elizabeth owned, like herself.
Another narrow boat, the one Nick must have arrived on, was beside it. None of the men looked harmed. That must have been how Alexandra’s men had got over to the larger ship unseen. Brilliant! Elizabeth looked at her friend in ever-increasing admiration.
With a roguish grin at his betrothed, Nick pulled his sword out of the deck, and ordered, “Weapons down.”
Pistols and blades of every shape and size clattered to the ground.
Pointing the tip of his sword to the men behind Arnold and Connell, Nick said, “Who of ye wish ye’d never heard of these two men and would separate yerself from their company given the chance?”
Not surprisingly, all the men volunteered. Some offered explanations, too. “‘Tis only a hired job.” “We had no idea…” “Anything to save my clipper.”
Nick raised his hand. “Just remember who spared yer lives. Jaffa, Cotton, Bauer, stand guard over these men until we can get the boat to carry ‘em all over to their vessel.”
“Me vessel now,” Alexandra corrected him. Not allowing for anyone to say otherwise, she turned to the two remaining men standing before them—Connell and Arnold. As casually as one ordered a meal at an inn, she said, “Time for ye to walk the plank. I want ye off me ship.”
Nick grabbed a pistol from the deck, encouraging the men to walk to the front of the ship, where a plank had already been set up over the edge. Too far away from the other vessel for it to be of any help to the two condemned men.
Fitzwilliam stepped in front of Nick, caution in his face.
Lord Matlock said, “I cannot condone this kind of conduct.”
Nick grinned. “I’ll not bind their feet or hands.
They’ll have as fair a chance of surviving as any with all the debris floating in the water from the blast. They’ll just be mighty uncomfortable for a spell.
Ten miles in the currents is a fair swim for any able-bodied man.
” His grin widened. “Give ‘em time to think of their mistakes, like.”
Elizabeth liked him. Judging from the twitch in Fitzwilliam’s lips and how he stepped out of his path, she suspected he liked Nick, too. Lord Matlock uttered no more objections.