Page 65 of Devil of the High Seas
“Why did Beauchamp do this?” Dominic demanded.
“Is it about the treasure?” Griffin asked. “Gavin, you told me he mutinied because he believed you had treasure hidden somewhere.”
Gavin glanced back at his ruined home. “Yes, though it couldn’t be further from the truth. The last few months had been lean, and he believed I was holding back on the shares of our plunder from prize ships. All of my coin went into my ship and my house. This island was my real treasure. That damned fool could never understand that.”
Griffin stepped forward and placed a hand on Gavin’s shoulder, looking at the remains of Gavin’s home. “I imagine it was quite a lovely house.”
“It was,” he admitted. “And Josie and I... We were going to be free here.” His throat tightened, and then he curled his hands into fists. “I will cut out Beauchamp’s black heart and feed it to him when I find him.”
“You can have whatever is left of him when I’m done,” Camden said darkly. “No one hurts my child.No one.”
On this matter, they were all in agreement. Beauchamp was a dead man. Soon he would have no tales to tell, and he would learn what happens when a man steals a pirate king’s greatest treasure.
* * *
Josephine becameaware of the pain in her head first, and then the pain in her arm grew infinitely beyond that. Something sharp pricked her wounded flesh. She tried to pull away.
“Hold still, girl,” a man muttered.
She blinked and raised her head, trying to see where she was. She looked to be in a dim room. Lanterns swayed overhead, and the tangy, acrid smell of alcohol wafted off an elderly man’s breath as he leaned over her to peer down at her right arm. Thick spectacles were perched on the tip of his nose.
“Where am I?” She struggled to remember what had happened. She recalled fighting pirates on the beach, and Sam.Oh Lord, Sam!
She tried to sit up, but the elderly man tutted at her and pointed to the leather straps across her waist and chest that kept her secured to the table.
“You’re on theLady Siren, girl. Now hush and keep still.” The man resumed stitching up her arm.
“The boy... Sam... Is he all right?” She tried to ignore the pain of the needle pulling at her flesh. At least this form of torture was supposed to be helping her—it just didn’t feel like it.
“Yes, for now,” the doctor said in a lowered voice. “You’d better do what Captain Beauchamp says. He will kill the boy if you don’t.” The doctor’s pale-gray eyes softened as he patted her shoulder in sympathy. “Now try to rest. I’ve got to stitch this up or ill humors will set in.”
“The captain,” she scoffed. “The man is a mutineer.A thief.”
During the voyage with Gavin, she had learned all about Beauchamp. He was a greedy man and was always ready to cause trouble. That wasn’t uncommon, of course, but it rarely resulted in mutiny. It had shocked Josephine to learn that Gavin’s crew had so quickly believed he’d kept more than his fair share of treasure. But people were always willing to believe the worst about someone, it seemed.
“You’d best hold your tongue,” the doctor warned. “The captain will cut it out of you, mark my words. Better to do what he asks and make no complaint. He told me to fix you up and deliver you to his quarters, and that is what I will do. You are to dine with him this evening.”
Josephine held her tongue, not because of his warning but to give herself time to think. She needed to find Sam, and the two of them had to get off the ship somehow. Until then, she would play the part men always expected of her. A silent woman was a woman with time to think and plan. Beauchamp was a dead man—he simply didn’t know it yet. She’d already killed two men, and their deaths had left no mark upon her soul. His would be no different.
When the doctor finished stitching her up, he removed the leather straps and helped her stand before he escorted her from the surgery to the captain’s cabin. A tall, brutish pirate who didn’t speak pushed her inside and pointed at a gown lying on the bed. Then he slammed the door in her face, and she heard a lock slide into place. She was alone and safe, at least for the moment.
She gingerly touched her bandaged arm. The wound was deeper than a graze, but it didn’t seem to have hit her bone. It was a small blessing, but it still hurt like the devil had jabbed a fire poker through her. She surveyed the cabin, seeking out possible weapons. There were none. A large figurehead of a mermaid stood against the wall in one corner, and the bed was messily made. Nothing in the room looked like it would make a decent weapon. Even the table in the center of the room had nothing with any substantial weight to it.
With a frustrated growl, she turned back to the bed. A fancy gown lay across the coverlet. The dress was a deep red with hints of orange, like the color of autumn leaves. It appeared to be clean, possibly never even worn. There were undergarments laid out, along with stays and pannier hoops. Despite the gown’s beauty, she had no desire to wear it.
However, knowing that Beauchamp could come in at any moment, she stripped out of her clothes and changed into the gown. She had no desire to be forced to dress in front of him.
The bodice laced up the front over her stays, and the stomacher folded over her breasts and waist, hiding the laces from view. Three layers of fine lace bedecked the neckline and the ends of the sleeves at her elbows. A jewelry box on the bed held a necklace that contained a piece of black Chinese jade carved in the shape of a skull.
“Charming,” she muttered.
Silver had been molded into crossbones beneath the skull. It was a necklace fit for a pirate’s mistress, she supposed. It was clear Beauchamp had chosen all of these pieces himself. Her stomach roiled with nausea as she put the necklace on. Her hair was unbound, and she took care to brush it into something more pleasing than the frizzy mess it had been. If she looked presentable, it might keep Beauchamp in a better mood, which would buy her and Sam more time.
She had just finished dressing when the door to the cabin opened. The man who’d shot her on the beach stood there, his covetous gaze roving over her.Beauchamp.
Behind him, the tall, silent pirate with evil eyes who’d taken Sam held a large tray with two plates of food and a bottle of wine.
Beauchamp gave her a mocking courtly bow. “Ah, my lovely guest.” The brute next to him set the tray down on the table and then, with a look at Josephine that gave her chills, backed out of the room.
