Page 48 of Blow Me Down
“There you are. We’ve been searching everywhere for you. I’m glad to see you haven’t been caught, although, really, is the drool necessary?”
“Every good lunatic drools,” he answered, flashing me a smile. “Hoy, Bas.
How’s tricks?”
Bas’s face fell when he realized that the lunatic was none other than Holder in disguise, a fact I’d kept from him in case he inadvertently let it slip that Corbin’s first mate was lurking about town. “Oh, it’s ye. Cap’n Amy said ye were a leper. I don’t suppose ye are?” he asked hopefully.
“No, sorry, lad, no leprosy, although I get a horrible rash on my belly if I eat nachos. Something in the cheese, I think,” he answered, idly scratching the body part in question.
“Can we discuss your rashy stomach another time? You need to get out of town. Bart’s men are seriously building up defenses, and it’s not safe for you to be here. I have a letter for Corbin.” I gave him the rolled-up parchment. He eyed it. “No peeking. It’s sealed.”
He grinned and saluted me with it. “Aye, aye, m’lady. Corb should be coming back for me just before the moon is high, so he’ll have it before the night is over.”
“Thanks. Be careful. From what I can tell, feelings are running pretty high over you guys.”
A curious look crossed his face, part puzzlement, part interest. “Really? Because of the blockade?”
I gaped at him for a moment or two, making a mental readjustment in my image of him. I hadn’t thought he would be so callous as to totally disregard the number of men he and Corbin and the rest of their crew had so cold-bloodedly killed, but even knowing they did it in the spirit of the game, I was taken aback enough that I said nothing other than to repeat my warning to be careful leaving the town.
Hours later I was snuggled into my bed, dreaming about skeletons that danced on bleeding hearts. A hand clapped over my mouth was the first indication that all was not right. The second was the (now familiar) black sack that was shoved over my head and torso, confining me into a helpless blob of sleepy woman.
My mouth worked, however. The kidnappers didn’t say anything to my scathing estimates of their parentage and ancestry, but I was not in the least bit surprised when, ten minutes later, I was deposited on a hard wooden seat on a rocking platform.
The sacking was unwound from my body and lifted off, the sudden rush of sea air—as well as the man seated across the rowboat from me—confirming my suspicions.
“Hello, luv,” Corbin said. “Ready to get married?”
Chapter 12
Here’s a first-rate opportunity
To get married with impunity…
—Ibid, Act I
“Dearly beloved—”
“Corbin, you’re mad. What on earth were you doing on Turtle’s Back?”
“I figured it was safer for you to be with me. Bart is my enemy, after all…”
“The key words in that sentence beingyour enemy, not mine. Besides, I have work to do there interviewing everyone. And it’s way too dangerous for you to be on Turtle’s Back right now. Don’t you know that Bart is after your head?
He’s promised three ships to any man who can bring in proof of your demise.
If he’d seen you—”
“—we have gathered here today to witness the virtual bonding of this pirate to this pirate—”
“Sweetheart, it’s traditional for the bride to stand next to the groom during a wedding. I’m not sure what the etiquette is about holding a sword to the groom’s throat, but I’m going to go out on a limb here and say it’s not quite kosher. Especially when it’s the groom’s own rapier.”
I withdrew the sword tip from where I had pressed it against Corbin’s neck and handed it back to him. “You weren’t listening to me. No one is listening to me.
I had to do something dramatic to make you pay attention.”
“—within the confines of the game, naturally, although I personally happen to think Corb and Amy are made for each other.”
“You may be on to something,” Corbin told Holder before grinning at me and holding out his hand. “Shall we, my dear?”
