Chapter Twenty Before
SMOKE ROSE IN a steady trail, the smell of tobacco and rum heavy over the card table. Cat could almost feel it on her skin, warm and light as the touch of a hand.
Captain Kane held a cigar between two fingers, a cloud of white curling through his teeth as he studied his cards. Cat studied him in turn, looking for tells. Or so she told herself, eyes skittering from his long fingers to the way his pulse thrummed in his neck.
He was thoughtful in his gameplay, never rushed, not like the other pirates, who slapped down their discards eagerly, as if Red River depended on speed above all.
Cat surmised that no one would rush Valerian Kane.
Not aboard his own ship, at least. He was smart, patient, strategic.
He let others move first so he could move better.
When Garedo and Brimley found themselves trading back and forth, their cards a furious storm, their captain made quiet moves, using the pair as a distraction.
It all made for a far more challenging opponent, and Cat had to stay on her toes, focusing on the card counts as best she could.
The clouds of smoke made it more difficult, drawing her eyes away from the cards to the disconcerting curve of the captain’s mouth, forever fixed in a crooked smirk.
Slowly, he laid down three diamonds, and Cat forced herself back to the task at hand.
Sixteen diamonds played—
“Where did a Meridian lady learn Red River?”
Kane’s voice shattered her thoughts, and Cat pursed her lips, annoyed by the endless distraction of him.
“If you knew any Meridian ladies, you would know that is a stupid question,” she said pertly, looking down to her cards. Smirking, she passed two cards to Garedo on her left. He took them with a grumble.
“Almost every salon or party I’ve ever attended ends in a card game.
For those who are still awake, at least. I spent many an early morning playing while waiting for my husband to come to his senses,” she added, letting Garedo wallow.
“And my sisters loved cards. Crossed Swords, Skulls, Red River, Jolly, Whistling Jane. We used to play them all, before I left.”
Kane raised a golden eyebrow, the small scar above it pulling white. “To marry Lord Rose?”
“That is the reason most girls leave home,” Cat replied. Then she remembered herself and the place where she sat. With nothing but sails and stars overhead. “At least, that’s how it is back in Meridia. I assume it is not so for your Ana, or the other ladies of the crew.”
“You may be surprised how many women trade marriage for the main deck,” Kane chuckled, his laugh rolling down Cat’s spine. “Tell me about these sisters. Were they as lucky in their unions as you?”
Cat shifted on her stool, surprised by the odd line of questioning. Judging by the faces of the other pirates, she surmised they were too. But it was not difficult to guess after Kane’s motive.
He is losing the hand and wants to set me off-kilter.
Her toes curled in her shoes.
I can do that too.
“I hope not,” she answered, heaving a wistful sigh.
“Helena was engaged when I left, and the others were far too young to be out in society yet. It is difficult to get news of home here. Personal news, I mean.” At that, she leaned into Brimley, who now stood at her shoulder to watch the game.
“Again, I am sorry to have brought you word of Allisport.”
Across the table, Kane’s eyes narrowed. Slowly, he dragged from the cigar and blew a cloud of fragrant smoke across the table.
“What of it?” he said tightly.
Cat shook her head, rueful. “Another casualty of the war. The city was burned by the Esperese.”
To her shock, Kane’s mouth curved, lifting into a half smile. He seemed almost triumphant, as if the victory was his own and not Esperin’s.
Hardly the response warranted, even from a pirate.
“I do not expect you to mourn, Captain Kane, but show some respect,” Cat said. “Allisport was home to thousands, including Mr. Brimley—”
“I’ve seen it myself, thank you,” he bit back, ashing his cigar into her turtle shell bowl. Cat wrinkled her nose and opened her mouth to scold him.
Only for Kane to cut her off again.
“You hold the X, Lady Rose,” he said neatly, his stormy eyes intent on hers.
With all the will in her body, Cat squashed the urge to swat the cigar from his hand. Instead, she threw down her fan of cards, the red X buried among them. Gasps went around the table from the others, both in triumph and surprise.
“Well seen,” she muttered, her face warm and flushed. Again, she thought about sweeping her winnings into her skirt and escaping—albeit with a smaller pile than she had possessed five minutes ago. But that would be admitting defeat, in the only place she might hope to hold ground.
Across the table, Kane drew another pull of the cigar. The end of it flared, embers reflecting in his flickering gaze. He did not reach for the varied coins and trinkets.
“Another?” he said, never breaking his stare.
Cat’s fingers curled and something inside her shivered, the sensation fluttering in her ribcage. She did not think she could look away from the pirate, his eyes pulling her in like the coiling winds of a hurricane.
“Shall we sweeten the pot?” she murmured.
He smiled crookedly, leaning forwards. The lantern light gleamed, illuminating the lightest sheen of sweat across his chest of golden-brown curls. Such was the way of the Lyrian Sea, the air thick with heat, even against the spray of the endless waves.
“What did you have in mind?”
Cat flashed a grin. “A question. I ask, you answer?”
“And if I beat you again?” Kane mused.
“The same,” she said, shrugging. She could hardly fathom what information a pirate captain could want from her, let alone use. “You ask, I answer.”
“Perfect.”
Steadily, he discarded his jacket. Then he set to rolling his sleeves, white cotton sliding up over his forearms. Another tattoo, black against tanned skin, marked the inside flesh of his arm.
Cat traced the dark spots of ink with her eyes, seven dots in seemingly random order, as he began to shuffle the cards.
* * *
IT WAS NOT like the early mornings in the parlor of a country estate or a city townhome, where tiny glasses of sherry and pots of tea went round, numbing and waking the players in equal measure.
Young lords too filled with life to sleep gambled alongside old aunts too filled with aches.
And Cat played amongst them, awaiting a husband too drunk to stand, passed out in a closet somewhere, snoring into a pile of linens.
She would take their scraps of money and baubles, but few played with anything of real value.
It was not proper for nobles to carry currency, and certainly not to balls or parties.
Most winnings were better left on the table.
Her pride was the pot, to be gloated over later when they rumbled home in a rented carriage. Or, gods forbid, walked.
It had been a difficult life, filled with regret and disappointment. But not so difficult as the one she lived now, where every tide seemed to bring another hardship or obstacle—none so currently frustrating as a pirate captain with a wicked smile and a vicious mind for cards.
The once-patient Valerian Kane now played at a furious pace, forcing both Cat and the other two pirates to keep up like whipped horses.
Gone was the prudent, slow player of a few hands ago, replaced by a smirking demon who delighted in the frenzy.
Cat barely had time to keep count but somehow it thrilled her.
She gritted her teeth, holding back a manic grin of her own.
Each card thrown was a bullet dodged or fired, and her heart jumped with every reveal.
Diamonds, crescents, swords, stars. The symbols burned against her eyelids, a brand in black ink.
There was no denying which two players warred for control of the table.
Cat barely glanced at Brimley or Garedo, only watching their hands to keep count.
The captain was the same, lifting his eyes from his hand to flicker over the cards—and Cat’s face.
Her heart jumped then too, every time she glimpsed a flash of storm green.
Garedo discarded two crescents while handing another three cards to his left. Kane took them unflinchingly, his tanned face still, fingers quick and sure as he shuffled the cards in his hand.
Cat struck without warning or hesitation.
“Captain Kane,” she said, watching as he raised an eyebrow. “You hold the X.”
Low whistles went through their audience, and even Ratter, half asleep on a coil of rope, sat up to watch the fallout.
But Kane only folded his cards together, eyeing her over the flaring embers of his cigar.
Garedo and the others looked on in stunned silence, waiting for their captain to react and dictate which way the wind blew for them.
“You knew Garedo held it,” Kane murmured, his face torn between shock and amusement. He pointed at her with the cigar, stabbing the air. “You waited for him to give it to me.”
Shaking his head, Garedo stared at his cards. A deep flush spread over his brown cheeks.
“Like I said, mind reader, sir,” he grumbled under his breath.
Kane did not reply.
“You’re out of this round, Captain,” Cat said serenely, reaching for the cards still tight in his hand.
He did not relent, making her pull them from his grasp.
Her fingers grazed his, her nails raking over rough knuckles.
She expected to shudder at his touch. There was no telling where the dirty hands of a pirate had been.
But she felt only the warmth of him, and not the cloying, humid kind she had come to know in the Lyrian Sea.
He felt like fire in a hearth, welcoming and bright.
The kind to keep out a chill, to make you feel safe.
Cat knew he was anything but. They were the foolish thoughts of a foolish woman, already mad after a few hours of imprisonment. Valerian Kane was a pirate captain and her captor, holding her for ransom. No matter what his hand felt like.