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Page 6


  Huddled in a dark world where danger lurked everywhere, Dominique closed her eyes and fell into an exhausted sleep.

  Tom Beeton was as able a seaman as had ever walked the deck of a ship. But the jagged scar that ran from his forehead to his jaw gave him a sinister look. Women and children shrank away in fear whenever they encountered him. This was the face that greeted Dominique as the canvas was thrown aside.

  Rough hands grabbed her and pulled her from the longboat. "Here now, girly," Tom said, placing her on her feet. "So, we got us a stowaway."

  Dominique raked her tumbled hair from her face with a trembling hand, refusing to meet the man's eyes.

  "I caught me one of them mermaids," he said, leering at her, his fingers digging into her arm.

  "Let me go," she demanded, jerking her arm free. "I demand to be taken to your captain."

  By now, several men had gathered about, and one of them laughed at her suggestion. "You'd be safer with us than the captain. He don't take kindly to anyone coming on board his ship without an invitation."

  "What goes on here?" Cornelius's voice boomed out, and the men cleared a path for him. When he stood before Dominique, astonishment creased his rugged features and his eyes widened in disbelief. "How came you here, Ma'am?" he asked in a hard voice. "And who are you?"

  She tried not to show the fear that quaked through her body. Without blinking, she looked into the man's eyes. "My name is not important. Take me to your captain so I might talk to him."

  Other members of the crew had joined them by now—frightening-looking men who she could tell at a glance were pirates. They leered at Dominique while jabbing each other in the ribs and making lewd remarks, until a harsh command from Cornelius sent them scurrying away to attend their duties. Only after the last man had retreated did Cornelius turn his attention back to Dominique.

  "Captain Gallant is otherwise occupied, Ma'am," he said, his face red with anger at the disruption she had caused. "You'll talk to me and no one else."

  Before Dominique could protest, he gripped her arm and steered her below decks. He flung open a door and led her none too gently inside. The cabin was cramped, with room for little besides the narrow bunk bed along the wall, and a small table that appeared to serve as a desk. There were very few conveniences. She watched as he went about gathering possessions and cramming them into a trunk.

  Then he lifted the trunk and shoved it out the door. "This is my cabin but you will be occupying it until we decide what to do with you." He spoke to Dominique sternly. "Now, you have some explaining to do."

  "I'll talk only to your captain," she repeated stubbornly.

  In exasperation, Cornelius moved to the door. Before he exited, he removed a key from a chain that he wore about his ample waist. "I told you that's not possible. You'll be remaining here until we can put you ashore."

  "How dare you treat me like a criminal. I have done nothing wrong, and I have the right to see your captain. Look at my clothing," she said piteously, hoping to gain his sympathy. "My skirt is ruined and it is all I have with me. What shall I do?"

  The manner in which Cornelius twisted his body and placed his hands on his hips warned Dominique that he was trying hard to control his temper. "Ma'am, do you think it matters what you wear on this ship? As it is, you will have to be locked in for your protection against the crew." He dropped the key in her hand. "Have you any notion what might have happened to you if I had not come along when 1 did?"

  "Who is to protect me from you?"

  Cornelius studied her face, realizing for the first time how young she was—couldn't be more than twenty, he thought. "I am flattered if you see me as a threat, Ma'am. But you have nothing to fear from me. I like my women willing, plump, and sweet-tempered—you are none of these."

  He gripped the door as if to close it and Dominique realized that when he was gone she would be alone and no nearer her goal. It was not in her nature to be dishonest, but she would say anything, do anything to get her family released from prison. And to accomplish that aim, she must stay on board this ship and win the captain's confidence.

  "Wait! I will tell you what you want to know."

  Cornelius nodded and closed the door, moving to stand beside her. He motioned that she should be seated on the only chair in the room, while he dumped clothing off a stool and lowered his bulk.

  "Let's start with your name," he prodded.

  She saw no reason to hide her true identity; no one on board this cursed ship would have heard of her or her family. "I am Dominique Charbonneau."

  "You are English, and yet you have a French name."

  "That is because my father was French. That could be said of half the women of Tobago."

  He stared at her as if he could tell by looking into her eyes if she were telling the truth. "Why did you stow away aboard this ship?"

  "I was frightened because I was being pursued by someone and I had to leave the island. I hoped your Captain Gallant would help me."

  "Why would you think that?" Cornelius asked doubtfully.

  She met his gaze. "I encountered your captain in Scarborough and he seemed a . . . proper gentleman. I felt I could trust him."

  Cornelius inspected her with suspicion. "Do you know who he is?"

  She blinked her eyes innocently. "He is captain of this ship. Any ship would have done as well. I had to leave the island—to escape."

  "Where is your ma and pa?"

  At least on this she could be truthful. "They are both dead."

  "Then what were you doing on Tobago?"

  She had practiced her story over and over for just this moment. Could she be a good enough actress to fool this suspicious man? "I . . . served tables at the Blue Dog Tavern."

  His eyebrows rose in disapproval and he spoke curtly. "I know about the serving wenches at that tavern. They are required to do more than just serve rum and ale to the men."

  Her face flushed with color, and she bent down as though to examine her feet so he would not see her embarrassment. It was hard to keep from defending herself against his accusations. "A woman has to do many things she does not like to survive—but you would not know about that."

  There was disgust in the first mate's expression. "A whore. You will surely rue the day you came aboard this ship. If the captain don't throw you to the sharks, the crew may well have their way with you."

  She threw back her shoulders and tilted her chin. "I can take care of myself."

  "So it would seem." He pointed to the key he had given her earlier. "Still, I would lock the door if I were you."

  When he left, she did just that, then she leaned against it, trying to still her beating heart. She had met the first obstacle, but there would be others. The worst, she was certain, would be when she had to face the notorious captain of the Tempest.

  Cornelius rapped on the door of the captain's quarters and entered only when he was invited inside. The cabin was not what one would expect if one believed Judah Gallant to be a pirate. It reflected a man of meticulous habits, with a love of the written word. Maps were neatly stacked on the corner of the massive desk and leather-bound books lined a three-tiered bookshelf. The bed was wide and had been built to fit the cabin. Through the door to the right was a formal dining room where the captain and Ethan had just finished their meal.

  Judah nodded to a chair. "Sit, Cornelius, and help yourself to the food. There is plenty left."

  "Begging your pardon, Captain, but I'm here to report a stowaway."

  Judah rose slowly, wondering if this could be the spy that William had warned him about during their meeting. "A stowaway on my ship," he said grimly. "Bring him tome at once!"

  "It isn't exactly a him, Captain—it's a woman."

  Judah threw his napkin on the table, his eyes blazing and his jaw tightening. "Who was on watch when this happened?"

  "She came aboard last night, that would be Tom Beeton's watch."

  "Did she give a reason for stowing away aboard my ship?"

  Co
rnelius remembered he still wore his cap, so he snatched it off and tucked it beneath his arm. "Well, Captain, she said she met you on Tobago and felt she could trust you. Said she worked at the Blue Dog Tavern."

  Ethan grinned. "And I thought you said you went into the village to meet a man. You must have been at your most charming to cause her to sneak on board just to be with you." The grin did not leave his face as he looked at the first mate. "You said she felt she could trust him? Are you sure she did not confuse the captain with someone else?"

  Judah glared at Ethan, but made no comment. He wondered if it was the same woman who had asked for his protection. How the hell had she boarded his ship?

  "The men are a superstitious lot; they are not going to like having a woman on board," Judah said. "Keep her away from them until we can put her ashore."

  "She said she'd like to talk to you," Cornelius said.

  "All I want to see of her is the back of her head as she leaves my ship. Is that understood!"

  "Aye, Captain," Cornelius said, then he turned to leave. The captain had taken it better than he'd expected, still he would not want to be Tom Beeton, who had been lax on his watch. On a ship with such an undisciplined crew, punishment must be swift and certain.

  Judah stood on the quarterdeck, his arms folded, his eyes riveted on Tom Beeton, who was tied to the mast with his shirt ripped to the waist to expose his naked back. Cornelius unfurled a cat-o'-nine-tails, while the rest of the crew stood by, having been ordered by the captain to observe the punishment.

  The whip snaked out, cutting into the man's flesh, but he made no outcry. Once more the whip struck, then again. This time, Tom Beeton did scream. Twice more the whip slashed across Tom's back before the punishment was fully executed.

  "Let this be a lesson to all who are gathered here not to be lax in your duty," Judah said, his voice like a whiplash cutting across the grumbling of the men and shocking them into silence. "A crime against one is a crime against all—remember this. Now you are dismissed. Go about your duties."

  As ship's doctor, Ethan had Tom cut loose and ordered two crewmembers to carry him to the infirmary.

  Cornelius stood beside his captain, his eyes watchful for signs of trouble.

  "The men don't like the flogging, Captain. You heard the dissent. You should have let me set him adrift with food and water."

  "That would have proven nothing," Judah said impatiently, ready to put the distasteful incident behind him. "Discipline is the only thing they do understand. Had I allowed Tom to get off without punishment, I would have looked weak in the eyes of the others. They may not like what I did, but they respect it—and they expected it."

  Cornelius nodded. Still, he would watch the crew closely for signs of trouble. They were a scurvy lot, and he did not trust any man jack of them.

  Even in her cabin below decks, Dominique could hear the man's screams and the sound of the whip striking flesh. She covered her ears and huddled on the bed, trembling with fear.

  She should have expected brutality from these black-hearted pirates, but still, she wondered what the man's crime had been.

  She remained in her cabin, trying to gather enough courage to face Captain Gallant. She passed long, lonely hours lying on the hard bunk before she could make herself unlock the door. Even then, she did not dare take one step outside the cabin.

  What would be her fate when the captain turned his eyes on her? Would she live long enough to complete her mission? She was not so certain.

  And if not, what would become of Valcour and her grandfather?

  8

  Although Dominique had been warned to remain in her cabin, she quietly unlocked her door and crept up the narrow steps. She was willing to chance encountering some horrible cutthroat just to escape the stuffy cabin.

  When she reached the deck, she was captivated by the dawn dancing upon the waves with the brilliance of shimmering diamonds. As she breathed in the cleansing sea air, her head seemed to clear.

  Suddenly, she heard voices above her and pressed herself against the railing, fearful that someone would discover her presence. Only after a moment of apprehension did she glance up at the quarterdeck to see Captain Gallant himself, speaking to one of his men.

  "How fares Tom Beeton, doctor?"

  "His wounds are deep, but they will heal. I would watch him if I were you, Judah. He has made some threats."

  "Tom Beeton does not concern me. Let us hope he learned a lesson and never again allows a stowaway on board my ship," Judah said grimly.

  The man who had been referred to as doctor moved away and the captain turned his head in Dominique's direction. She quickly jumped behind a roll of canvas in a panic, but when a few minutes passed, she realized he had not seen her.

  Dear God, what she had heard the night before was a man being punished because of her. What kind of a monster was this pirate captain? And how could she bear to get close enough to such a man to glean secrets from him?

  Dominique leaned forward so she could have a better view of the godlike captain who seemed impervious to his surroundings, his gaze centered on the rising sun.

  His hair was black and short-cropped, curling at the nape of his neck. The white shirt he wore was full-sleeved; the lacings across his chest opened just enough to show his bronzed skin.

  In that moment, Judah turned his head so his face was in profile and she could study him more closely. His mouth was full and his nose straight, in harmony with the rest of his features. If he were not a man, she would have called him beautiful.

  He looked dashing and noble, quite unlike a pirate. His bearing was straight and tall, his stance arrogant, his presence overpowering. How could a man so handsome have such a black heart? she wondered.

  Judah Gallant seemed to dominate the very air she breathed, and she was completely at his mercy. Dominique was even more frightened of him than ever.

  Unconsciously taking a step, she did not see the rope lying on the deck until it was too late. Her foot tangled in the jute coils and she fell forward, hitting the deck with a hard thud.

  When Dominique lifted her head, trying to shake off the pain, all she could see was a pair of black, shiny boots. Slowly, she raised her eyes and they clashed with the stormy blue eyes of Captain Gallant himself.

  When he made no attempt to help her rise, Dominique scampered to her feet and faced him bravely, even though her heart was thundering with fear.

  "What are you doing on my deck?" Judah asked, his nostrils flaring in anger.

  "I . . . came out for a breath of air. I did not think there would be anyone about."

  "Then you are a fool. Do you believe that the ship sails itself?"

  Dominique felt her own anger ignite, but she struggled to control it. She was there to woo the pirate captain not battle with him, no matter how tempting it would be to put him in his place. She was not exactly certain what Captain Gallant found attractive in a woman, but she supposed sweetness and charm would be more persuasive than stinging words, no matter how well deserved.

  From their brief encounters, Dominique had discerned that the captain was a man of intelligence, even though he was a lawless scoundrel, a murderer, and a thief, if not worse. Most likely he liked depraved women. Could she make him believe she was a woman of low morals and still keep her virtue?

  With the sea breeze ruffling her hair, Dominique moved toward him, allowing her hips to swing enticingly as she had seen the women do in the tavern. "Captain," she said softly, "surely you remember me."

  "How could I forget?" he said dryly. "I believe you were trying to convince me that you were in your . . . profession against your will."

  Dominique's stomach tightened with anxiety, and she quivered when his eyes raked her boldly, lingering on her low-cut blouse, then moving to her softly rounded hips, which were covered by the wrinkled red skirt, now shrunken and showing her ankles.

  She met his steady gaze. "I. . . cannot help the way I look; my clothing was ruined when I swam to your ship." />
  "You swam?" he asked in disbelief. "That was a dangerous thing to do—the undertows, the sharks—are you crazed?"

  Dominique shrugged. "I told you I was desperate, that I had to leave Tobago."

  His jaw tightened. "Ah yes, I believe you said someone was chasing you. Did it occur to you that—"

  Dominique interrupted him. "Believe what you will, Captain, but I was in grave danger." Dominique's face burned with humiliation and she laced her hands together and stared down at them, afraid to look at him lest he read the deception in her eyes, "I am in great fear for my safety," she assured him. That at least was true, but the person who frightened her most at the moment was the captain himself.

  "Madame," Judah said, "it was I who was speaking. What made you think you could seek sanctuary aboard my ship? You would be far safer with men who are willing to pay for your.. . charms. My crew would not be so inclined."

  "You speak of your crew, but what about you? Need I fear you, Captain?"

  His lip curled in contempt. "You have nothing to fear from me, unless you leave your cabin again without my permission. If you do, I can assure you that your door will be locked from the outside. I have enough problems without worrying about your effect on my crew." His eyes pierced hers. "Is that understood?"

  Lowering her eyes, Dominique paused for a moment in silent despair. Then she gathered her courage and raised her eyes to his. "I had heard that you were more appreciative of a woman's charms."

  He watched her closely. She was a woman of contradictions. She would have him believe that she had loose morals, but there was an air of innocence about her that did not quite fit the part. He was immediately suspicious, thinking she might have been planted aboard his ship.

  "What else did you hear about me?"

  "I have heard that even though you are a pirate, you are both feared and admired. And I was told that you like the company of women."