Page 112 of An Imperfect Scoundrel
“He’s going to kill us?” Louisa’s voice spiked, echoing in the cabin.
Alana sat up quickly, ignoring the pain that ricocheted through her body, and clamped her hand over Louisa’s mouth, widening her eyes. When Louisa nodded, Alana peeled her fingers away, then laid back on the bed. “He’s going to blow up the ship.”
“Why would he do that?”
“Captain Shaw doesn’t want to be a pirate anymore.”
Louisa froze. The cloth hovering over Alana’s stomach dripped several drops of cold water on her skin.
“Did you convince him to quit?”
“No.” Alana’s mouth quirked. “This plan was concocted prior to our abduction.”
“What happens after the ship is destroyed?”
“He will invent a new life.”
“Does that life include you?”
“No.” She spoke firmly, wanting to dispel the growing delight in Louisa’s eyes.
“That’s a pity.” Louisa wiped the cloth gently over Alana’s wounds. “However, if I’m going to be a spinster, I cannot think of one other person I’d prefer to spend my remaining years with.”
“We are not spinsters.” Alana slapped the bed. “We are widows. There’s a distinction with that title.”
“I adore your attitude.” Flinging herself at Alana, Louisa wrapped her arms around her, and squeezed, drawing a small gasp from Alana. “If only you could help my sister better her match.”
“There may still be time…” Alana’s voice trailed off.
She had an idea. A perfectly wonderful idea for Louisa’s sister that would pull her away from the influence of Miss Shirely and Mr. Lockhearst, as well as keep her in Wiltshire.
“How does your sister feel about children?”
“I’m certain she wants to have a family.” Louisa tilted her head. “What are you thinking?”
“My cousin, Asher, is also a widow. He has two small boys, needs a wife, and lives not far from my father’s property.”
“A delightful notion!” Louisa declared, her eyes shining with joy. “I shall write both him and Susannah. She has plenty of time to break the engagement, but how will I convince her to trust my judgment? No matter. If Mr. Lockhearst is as beastly as you described, she’ll be happy with another choice.”
Louisa hummed to herself, draping the remaining bandages across Alana’s torso, then rose, collecting the tray with the soiled bandages, and walked to the small stove. Kneeling beside the small grate, she opened the door, shoved in the cloth strips, and closed the grate again, wiping her hands together as she rose.
“Do you know where Captain Shaw keeps his paper?”
“I don’t.” Alana’s gaze skipped to his desk. “I’d advise you to search his belongings, but I don’t think he’d be pleased.”
The lock scraped in the door, and they both turned toward it as Mr. Hayward’s scarred face peeked around the edge.
“Hungry?” He addressed only Louisa, who nodded after a quick glance at Alana.
“Did you find Mr. Evans?” Louisa took a step toward him.
“No, but the ship is large.” Mr. Hayward paused, several emotions filtering across his face. “I’ll bring you something from the galley.”
“What does that mean?” Louisa turned toward Alana when the door shut.
“They believe Mr. Evans left the ship last night with the four remaining hostages.” Groaning, Alana rolled onto her stomach again.
“Why would he do that?”
