The Pirate Captain - By Kerry Lynne Page 0,357

Nathan through a narrowed eye. “Nay, I think not. It’s more fitting that you should suffer.”

Now Thomas was the one to dust his hands. “What are you going to do?”

Nathan brightened. “Don’t rightly know. You know me: pick a spot on the chart, and I will already be there. The wind at me back and the waves at me bow…” The thought was finished with a grand swipe.

Sobering, Nathan looked off across the water toward the open sea. “Lord-on-high Creswicke will be burning the waters looking for us—me, that is—but the men will be desiring a few days at Tortuga, looking to spend his coin. After that, I dunno. Cartagena, maybe west.”

Nathan’s voice drifted off and he fell quiet. At length, he shook his head, as if closing off a private conversation and pushed away from the rail. “Very well, then. It’s been good seeing you, old friend.”

It became instantly clear a handshake wasn’t going to be enough and they embraced, slapping each other heartily on the back.

“On the next horizon?”

“On the next horizon.”

“Take care of yourself, Nathan. Oh, one more thing,” Thomas said, just as Nathan reached the entry port. He drew back his fist and punched Nathan, his head snapping back with the impact.

“Ow!” Nathan’s hand flew up to his nose. “What was that for?”

“For being such a thorough-going, bloody fucking goddamned fool!”

“Oh.” Nathan tested his nose and examined his fingers for blood. “Can’t argue that. Feeling better, are we?”

Thomas reflected as he rubbed his knuckles. “Aye, a bit.”

“Then by your leave. Always desire to be of service to me friends in a time of their need,” Nathan grumbled and swung over the gunwale.

“You want to take these?” Thomas held up the bundle of Cate’s clothing.

“No! Tell her they were a gift,” Nathan shouted back and disappeared down the side.

###

Cate stalked the cabin. She refused to look, but she could hear Thomas and Nathan talking on deck. She ducked anytime Nathan’s voice threatened her ears. There were inopportune glimpses of them, and she took great satisfaction at seeing Nathan looked positively wretched. Misery did indeed enjoy company and in a grand way!

A part of her wanted to go out there and do…something! Those urges were immediately quashed by the prospect of facing Nathan again. She vowed if he came in there, she would do exactly as he had said he feared: jump. A glance reaffirmed the stern gallery stood open, just in case.

Oh, and there’s that smile!She clamped her eyes shut against the pain of how it had touched her heart. He had flashed it at her, like candy to a child.

And how he had sweet-talked, with all those heart-felt confessions…

Vile…underhanded…manipulative bastard!

With that came a surge of disgust, at a level usually reserved for the likes of Creswicke and his ilk.

Nathan’s look of relief was all too familiar, as was the dismissive wave of his hand. Swiping her from his life, she suspected, ruefully.

Once more, the voice of reason tried to make sense of it all. Cate slapped it away, for there was none. Was it because she wasn’t his precious Hattie, or because it was just her? Had jealousy raised its ugly head, or was it as simple as Nathan was done with her, as she had always known would come to pass? Like a flash of St. Elmo’s fire, the conquest made, the mystery gone. Women were his specialty, like cogs in a wheel: one in, one out; one in, one out…

Thomas’ call of “You can come out now. He’s gone, and too far away to shoot,” cut off Cate’s stream of thought. She squinted from the dim of the cabin into the glare of daylight to verify that Thomas was indeed alone.

“Are you sure?” she called back.

“Aye.”

Cate repeatedly scanned the deck as she crept out, alert for the first sign of a ruse. She wouldn’t put it past Nathan—or Thomas, for that matter. She rose on her toes to peer over the rail and saw the crown of a familiar leather hat no great way off. As she neared the rail, the longboat came into view.

Cate drew up beside Thomas, his gaze as fixed as hers on the receding craft, Nathan standing at the bow like some damned figurehead.“I always knew it would come to this,” she heard herself say.

Thomas stirred, as if from a deep thought. “What?”

“When he tired of me: sell me, pass me on. How much did you pay?”

Thomas looked down at her with an odd mix of satisfaction, pleasure, and wonder.