Chapter 22
Pulse racing and lungs labouring, Percy swung his cutlass at his opponent, finally making a deep slice in the cur and felling him to the quarterdeck boards.
He must reach Butcher, must prevent him from finding Heather.
Boom! Crack-crack!
The ship vibrated with every blast of the cannons and carronades, and each one was followed by a lacklustre splash or the splintering of wood. And screams. Always screams.
Urgency rushed him, and he scanned the deck.
A flash of red caught his gaze. There Butcher was, marching through the throng, his gaze transfixed on a target.
Percy followed the man’s line of sight, and all at once both elation and terror slammed into his chest. Heather.
Her eyes were just for Percy as she strode across the gangplank and onto the Pandora.
Boom-boom!
One of the America’s sails rent with a loud rrrrrip, but it scarcely registered. His pulse faltered.
The words “Look out!” were wrenched hoarsely from his throat, only in time for her to turn and see Butcher’s thick hand grip her around the throat.
Percy’s heart all but stopped, and he ran toward them, shoving and kicking any man who happened into his way. He couldn’t let Heather die. He wouldn’t.
The air squeezed from Heather’s throat and the blood rushed to her head as Butcher gripped her neck. Instant panic flared in her chest. The urge to pull at his hand and kick was overwhelming, but she forced herself to recall Percy’s teachings.
Boom! Crack-crack-crack!
Her lips began to bulge, and her face was undoubtedly deep red, so without hesitation, she lifted her arms in the air to either side of his, and spun, swiftly bringing her inside elbow down on his forearm.
The slide of his fingertips along her throat burned, but she gulped in a breath as soon as she was free.
Keeping her movement going, she turned again, thrusting her other hand out before her and connecting the heel of her palm to Butcher’s blood-splattered nose. Cartilage and bone gave way with a sickening crunch.
Butcher bellowed, and yet more blood spurted from the appendage.
Boom-boom! Boom!
Heather blinked the last of the spots from her vision, satisfied that she’d shown her mettle, then drew her leg back to kick him in the ballocks.
But he blocked it. With bloodied hands, he clasped her ankle and tugged, pulling her entirely off balance.
She landed on her back, the air left her lungs with a whoosh, and her pulse stuttered.
He had her. This was it.
With a maniacal gleam in his eye and a smirk that tugged at the scars marring half his face, Butcher withdrew a dirk and held it aloft, prepared to slice down into her.
Heather stiffened. The only way out was to roll, but to one side of her was the belfry and to the other, a cannon. Her vision wavered with terror.
But Butcher paused.
Heather blinked just as a blade was drawn across Butcher’s throat. With a gasp, Heather shuffled backward as Butcher blinked, his eyes gone wide and mouth agape. Then, blood spilled forth.
Boom!
The man choked and sputtered, and, like a great tree falling in the forest, he crashed to the quarterdeck.
And there stood Percy, ashen and heaving. Heather couldn’t have loved him more in that moment.
“Heather.” Percy wiped his cutlass on Butcher’s back and stepped past him to rush to Heather’s side, his body alight with conflicting concern and jubilation.
She accepted his proffered hand and staggered to her feet. “Thank you, Percy. I fear my skill at combat has not yet been mastered.”
Christ, but her voice was hoarse. Percy’s gaze slipped to the red marks around her neck, and he scowled, anger flaring to life once more in his chest.
Boom-boom-boom!
The ship shook, and he adjusted his footing, Heather’s hand still clasped gently in his.
“Your abilities in combat are excellent. The man was simply able to withstand a great deal of pain.” Percy caressed the back of her hand with the pad of his thumb as nerves prickled in his stomach.
“There is no harm in continuing to practise…together.” He cleared his throat. “Perhaps when we return home?”
“Of course, you must be right.” She nodded, a half-smile tugging at her lips. “Continuing our training is a lovely idea. I’m sure Juliana and Maria would benefit from further instruction as well.”
Hell’s tits. Just say it, man.
“Y-yes, of course. That is t-to say,” he stammered, the prickling of nerves growing into a full assault on his abdomen. “I…want more than that.”
A gentle frown puckered her brow, and she stepped sideways, smoothly avoiding a fighting duo. “More? I’m not sure I understand.”
Words failed him. He wanted her. All of her. He wanted a home and a marriage, devotion and trust. He wanted to be her family.
But the words wouldn’t come. They were stuck in his chest as though readying to burst forth. So instead, he slid his fingertips along her jaw and swept forward to capture her lips with his. It was swift and sweet, but it sent heat through his body just the same.
Boom! Boom-Boom!
He pulled back to press his forehead to hers. “I’ve fallen in love with you, Heather.”
“Have you?” Heather’s cheeks flushed as she stared at him through wide eyes.
“I have.”
She beamed, her face veritably lighting from within. “I love you as well, Percy.”
Pleasure—and no small amount of relief—warmed his chest, and he returned her smile. “Then we have much to discuss. But first, shall we end this battle and begin the journey home?”
Her smile still in place, Heather nodded. “Indeed. I’m given to understand that the items we purchased are safely stored in the hull.”
Christ, but that was fortunate. He’d thought they would have to briefly return to San Luis.
With another grin, he swept forward to buss her lips, then stepped back and turned to the belfry. He tugged the rope.
Bong…bong…bong…bong…
Three weeks later
Heart thundering, Heather dismounted from Percy’s lap to sidle up against him upon the gently swaying bed in the Pandora’s captain’s cabin. Her rapid breaths ruffled the smattering of tight curls upon his chest, and she dazedly traced a finger along the anchor there.
Percy hugged her closer. “I’ll never tire of that, love.”
She huffed a laugh. “Neither shall I.”
Percy had come to know her body so well that he knew just where to touch to elicit a response.
And the delights of her evenings alone with Percy had been a necessary reprieve from the flurry of activity these past weeks. Those crewmen who had agreed to their scheme and remained aboard had spent much of the time repairing and disguising the ship in preparation for the journey to London.
After the battle, they’d left the earl and the crew aboard the America to their own repairs, but Heather knew not of their intentions.
Hanley hadn’t an affianced with him to satisfy his cousin’s whims, but he no doubt knew that if he returned to England, he would be apprehended and tried for high treason.
It didn’t feel right to simply let him flee, to allow him to create a life for himself in the Americas, but she would leave the chase to the Royal Navy.
She just wished she knew to which royal the earl had made his alliance, for she would do all in her power to take them down as well.
Percy sighed, patting her hand with his callused one. She looked up at his dear face, her pulse picking up speed once more.
“What of when we reach London?” she asked. “We are naught more than a sennight away now, surely. Will you live with me at the Bow Street offices?”
“Mmm,” he hummed. “I’d thought to purchase a home for us in town, somewhere close enough to the offices that it will not be inconvenient to reach them every day.”
“For us? Truly?”
He jerked his chin in a nod. “Truly. So long as you will have me.” He hesitated briefly.
“And I’d rather hoped that you would accept my hand and become my wife.
But I understand if you are diffident toward marriage, so I would be glad to have you any way that I can, whether as a wife, a companion, or a paramour. ”
“Oh, Percy,” she breathed. The answer was obvious to her, for she’d already begun to think of what she wanted out of her time with Percy. She had his love, and now she would have him. “Of course I shall marry you.”
A sennight later
“Row, row, row…” The rhythmic voices of the men on the gun deck echoed up to Percy on the quarterdeck.
The remainder of the crew was still, as though holding their collective breath as the Pandora sailed slowly down the River Thames, nearing the Pool of London.
High above them, they flew the flag of a previously captured ship, Briar’s Thorn.
And the men had donned clean slops, brown or blue coats, and had cleaned their faces and hair. The ship had been cleaned and painted.
It was the best they could manage, and Percy hoped it worked. No one had stopped them yet, which was promising, but they had yet to drop anchor in the Pool.
Early morning light glittered on the rippling water of the Thames and reflected the blues, pinks, and oranges that streaked across the hazy London sky.
“Getting close now, sir,” Donovan said, appearing at his side.
“Indeed,” Percy grunted. “We’ve made it this far without detection, but we must remain alert.”
“Aye, Captain.”
Percy’s gaze slid toward Heather at his other side, her hair knotted high on her crown and shining copper in the golden light. She looked every bit the lady she was, in the mauve morning dress that she’d reacquired from among her things on the America. Pride swelled inside him.
Never in his life would he have thought that he would ask a woman to be his wife.
He’d always considered it impossible, not only due to his bastardy, but because he could never consign a woman to a future without the children that she likely desired.
But Heather… She both loved him for his lineage and shared his desire for a childless future.
She was utterly remarkable, unlike any woman he’d ever known.
Hell, even the few women with whom he’d engaged in meaningless trysts had condemned his use of condoms and expressed a desire for a bairn.
Heather was his perfect partner. She was intelligent, amusing, kind, caring, and so sodding strong. And she would be his.
“Why are you smiling like that?” she asked, quirking one eyebrow.
Percy lifted her hand in his and pressed a kiss to the backs of her fingers. “Just thinking of you, love.”
She huffed a breath. “You know I adore hearing that. But you really must focus on our arrival.”
“So I ought.”
“Row…row…row…” the chanting continued.
“Starboard,” Percy shouted.
“Starboard!” the gun deck’s bo’s’n echoed.
They glided to the right and forward, officially entering the Pool of London. Percy’s gut clenched, and a zing of apprehension went up the backs of his legs. He’d not be so worried if it were just his safety at stake, but it was the crew’s as well…and it was Heather’s.
Other ships were moored around them, dotting the water’s surface. Men rowed to and from the ships in smaller boats and moved about the docks, numerous naval officers among them.
This is close enough.
“Halt!” Percy hollered, and the gun deck’s bo’s’n repeated. “Uncat the anchor!”
The crew did as they were told but remained carefully silent. It was almost eerie, but Percy understood their reticence to call attention to themselves. They simply needed to get Heather, her many plants, and Percy off the ship. And then they could sail away. Quickly.
“Lower the boats!” Percy called before he turned to Donovan. “The moment I set foot on that rowing boat, you’re the captain. If you would, please see our things to shore and get yourselves safely out of England.”
“Aye, Captain.” Donovan grinned. “I imagine that some men might very well wish to bury their Jolly Roger for good. Afore we came across th’ Sapphire, we found an island in the tropics at which many of the crew wanted to remain.
But Butcher kept us moving in search of more riches an’ glory. Mayhap we’ll return.”
Percy clapped him on the shoulder. “A capital idea, my friend.” He paused. “Thank you, Donovan, for your support and your aid throughout this journey. It hasn’t been easy, and the work you and the men have done has been appreciated.”
The man’s smile grew. “O’ course, Percival. I’m glad to’ve gotten th’ chance to see y’ again.”
“Likewise.”
The ship slowed to a stop, and the rowing boats were lowered. The crew moved swiftly, bringing Heather’s abundance of plants to one of the boats.
Percy retrieved his satchel, threw it over one shoulder, and extended his hand to Heather. “Are you ready to return home?”
She winked, accepting his proffered hand. “Aye, Captain.”