Abandoned Memories (21 page)

Drops of sweat quivered on Mr. Keen’s trembling jaw. James reached toward the farmer to tug him away, but sunlight blinked off the gold earring in Ricu’s ear, temporarily blinding him. Mr. Keen’s legs gave out, and he fell to his knees. The pirate leveled his blade beneath the man’s chin and raised him to his feet, sniffing the air as if he smelled something foul. A drop of blood trickled down the farmer’s neck.

Another string of Portuguese spilled from the captain’s lips, ending with the emphasized word
covarde
, which brought the expected chuckles from his men.

“Leave him alone.” Taking Mr. Keen’s arm, James shoved him out of the pirate’s reach. “Can’t you see he’s scared out of his wits?”

Captain Ricu turned to James with a chuckle. “And
você
? Are you scared out of these wits?”

“No.”

Ricu swerved the knife toward James’s chest. He felt the prick through his shirt but didn’t flinch. Instead, he returned Ricu’s staunch gaze with one of his own and was surprised by the intelligence he saw in the pirate’s dark eyes. He also saw bloodlust. And something else that made him squirm—a crazed gleam. Uttering a silent prayer, James braced himself to be run through, to feel his lifeblood poured out upon the sand and end his days on this Brazilian shore. But the pirate suddenly whirled on his shiny heels and pranced down the line of colonists. Yes, pranced. Like a giddy schoolboy. “ ’Tis a map I seek. Three maps in truth.” He waved his hand through the air, the lace at his cuff fluttering in the breeze.

Patrick slid his boot across the sand and exchanged a frightful glance with Dodd. Captain Ricu, who seemed to miss nothing, headed toward them.

“What maps are these, Captain?” Blake asked. “I know of no maps.”

Ricu spun about. “Three old maps. Three maps that need a fourth. Fourth one I have.” He patted his pocket, dark brows flashing. “Maps that lead to vast gold to make a man rich for many lives.”

James glared at Dodd. This blasted gold would be the ruin of them all!

A cloud gobbled up the sun, giving them a moment’s reprieve from the heat. James rubbed the sweat from the back of his neck and scanned the pirates again. If only they could catch them off guard, storm them, and grab their weapons before they knew what was happening. But not these men. Though filthy and bearded and wearing clothes in every color imaginable, they stood soberly, some leaning on the tips of weapons thrust in the sand, others holding them at the ready, awaiting their captain’s command—alert and loaded like a line of cannons on a warship.

Ricu snapped his fingers again, bringing another man with a handkerchief to his side.

A stream of angry Portuguese shot from his mouth as he flung the cloth back at the pirate, who plucked it from the sand and scurried away while another man approached with yet another cloth. This one seemed acceptable as Ricu again wiped his face and neck and tossed the cloth to the ground.

James’s stomach knotted. Bad enough they’d been captured by a pirate, but a mad one?

A seagull squawked overhead as if laughing at the scene. One of the women behind James began to sob.

“They have the maps, Captain. I’m sure of it,” one of the pirates spoke in perfect English before he spat a black glob onto the sand.

“I know, you
imbecil
!” Ricu snarled at him then faced the colonists with a grin. A silver tooth winked at them in the sun.

A tic twitched in Blake’s jaw.

James fisted his hands at his waist. He’d about reached his limit of this lunacy. “Map or no map, no one here has found any gold. Feel free, Captain, to search our things.” Join Dodd and Patrick in their treasure hunt for all James cared. It would serve the two greedy curs right.

Charging toward James, Ricu pricked James’s throat with his knife. Angeline gasped.

“I am free with or without your permit,
senhor
! You keep that in head, eh?”

James eyed the man. Yes, he would keep that in his head. Along with how the pirate’s own head was a bit unhinged.

Blake stepped forward. “He meant no insult, Captain, merely that we will make no trouble for you.”

A moan sounded from Dodd’s direction.

Ricu snorted, withdrew his blade, and ran his disinterested gaze over the colonists. “No trouble! Ha!” He tossed his knife in the air. It flipped several times, sun glinting off the metal, before he caught the handle with expert precision. “Search them and their things.” At this, half his crew scattered like cockroaches in sunlight. He stopped before Blake. “You have till sunrise tomorrow, senhor, to give maps to me.”

Blake swallowed as Ricu paced once more before the colonists. His eyes locked on something behind James. Shoving James aside, he grabbed Angeline by the wrist. She squirmed as he dragged her across the sand. James charged him.

A dozen pirates leapt in his path. The smell of sweat and alcohol stung his nose.

Ricu wheeled about and glanced from James to Angeline. “Ah…she be your
amante
, eh?” He grinned, his gaze landing on Hayden. “Take him.” He snapped his fingers, and two of his men hauled Hayden at sword point from his spot. “I hang him in morning.”

“No!” Magnolia shrieked, reaching for her husband.

“For what?” Blake demanded, his face a knot of fury and fear.

“He stole woman from me, cut my anchor chain. For this he die.”

Tears spilled down Magnolia’s cheeks as she started for Hayden, but Eliza and Blake held her back.

“Can we have the other women?” one of his men asked.

“No!” Ricu snapped, glaring their way, before turning and fingering a strand of Angeline’s hair. She turned away in disgust. “Not before I try all first. Captain’s…how do you say…privilege.” His gaze took in Magnolia then skittered to Eliza, Sarah, and some of the other women as if he were deciding in what order to ravish them.

Every nerve in James’s body ignited. “If you hurt her…” he seethed, nodding toward Angeline. “And if you kill this man, you will never get your precious maps.”

“So, you have maps?” One dark sinister brow rose. “Good. Bring them to me when sun rises and I may not hang this one.”

“And the lady?” Blake said. “You will not touch her.”

Instead of answering, Ricu grinned, a wide grin that reached his eyes in a salacious twinkle before he dragged Angeline away.

HAPTER
18

G
ive us the maps!” James gripped Patrick by the throat. The posh man stumbled backward, clawing at James’s fingers, terror bloating his face.

Strong hands tore James from the villain and pushed him back. “This isn’t the way.” Blake’s look was stern, but his eyes held understanding.

“What
is
the way with the likes of him?” James caught his breath. Fury pounded blood through his veins as Patrick coughed and gasped and finally rose to his full height, the fear on his face replaced by indignation that only further infuriated James.

“Give them the maps, Martin…Patrick…whoever you are!” Magnolia spat out through sobs. “If there is any decency in you, give them the maps. Hayden is your son!” She hung her head as more tears streamed down her cheeks. Eliza wrapped an arm around her and drew her close, trying to offer comfort that James knew was pointless.

Blake stood his ground between James and the two men who possessed the only things that might save Angeline and Hayden. Running a hand through his hair, James took a step back, uttering a silent prayer for strength not to kill both of them on the spot.

Night had flung a dark curtain over the beach, a heavy curtain that suffocated any remaining hope from the colonists. Hope that had leeched out during a day of watching the pirates scatter their few remaining belongings across the beach and then storm away, angry and spewing threats when they didn’t find anything of value. A palpable terror buzzed through the camp. No one could eat. Few even spoke. And most had retired early for the evening. All except those who, unable to sleep, now sat around a fire.

His gaze sped down the beach where the pirates assembled around another fire, chortling and singing as they passed a bottle of some vile liquor. Two bobbing lanterns marked the location of the ship offshore where all was silent. No drunken ballads, no shouts, no woman’s scream pierced the crash of waves on the sand. He prayed that was a good sign. He prayed the mad pirate was leaving Angeline alone. Perhaps he’d gotten drunk and passed out before he could touch her. The alternative was too horrible to consider. And he’d had nothing but time to consider it during the long afternoon. Only Blake’s level head had kept James from plunging into the waves and swimming to the ship, where he would no doubt be hung alongside Hayden or shot dead as soon as his feet landed on deck. That would do Angeline no good. Though sitting here doing nothing at all was doing her no good either.

“Don’t worry.” Eliza followed his gaze. “We’ll get her back.” She hugged Magnolia. “We’ll get them both back.”

“You don’t know that.” James’s hope, dare he say even his faith, had abandoned him the minute Ricu had dragged Angeline away. The look of terror in her eyes nearly did him in—would have caused his demise if several pirates hadn’t blocked his path. Even then, he’d attempted to storm through them. If Blake hadn’t restrained him, he’d probably be six feet under at the moment.

He could not lose her. Not like this.

“We
do
know that,” Blake said. “Because we are going to give them what they want.” Turning, he faced Patrick and Dodd with that commanding look of his that must have sent soldiers scrambling to do his bidding. “Even if I have to tear off every inch of your clothing, piece by piece, I will find those maps.”

“Please!” Magnolia’s misty eyes raised to both men. “How can you be so cruel?” She ran fingers down Stowy’s fur, trying to calm the jittery cat in her lap. “Mercy me, what is a map compared to a human life? Compared to any of our lives?”

Patrick fingered his goatee. “Fools! Do you think if we give them our maps, they will be satisfied? Why, they’ll probably kill us all anyway.”

A gust of wind sent flames leaping into the sky as if in agreement.

James snapped hair from his face and glanced at the armed pirates commanded to patrol the beach lest the colonists try to slip away in the night. “I can’t believe even
you
would allow your own son to die.” Patrick stared at the fire. “He was as good as dead the second they dragged him away.”

“Don’t you need their map to find this gold?” Eliza grabbed Stowy from Magnolia, trying to calm the agitated cat. “Ricu seems to believe you need all four.”

Patrick eyed Dodd, and a look of understanding passed between them. “Indeed, it could be the reason for our lack of success.”

A howl sounded from the jungle—a wolf’s howl. An icy chill skittered across James’s neck, joining the one in his heart.

“Then you have nothing to lose by giving them your maps,” Blake said. “For all we know there might be no gold at all.”

“There
is
gold, I assure you.” Dodd nodded with a grin.

James clenched his jaw, trying to restrain his fury. “Have you any idea what Angeline might be suffering right now? Because of your greed!”

Dodd’s expression was oddly remorseful. “The pirate would have taken her anyway. Just as he’ll take the other women eventually.”

A shudder passed over Eliza as she shared a glance with Blake. He slipped his hand in hers.

Patrick clipped thumbs in the lapels of his coat. “We could still plan an escape. Why not wait until they are well into their cups and the guards asleep and then slip into the jungle?”

“And leave your son to die, you gruesome beast!” Magnolia started to rise, but Eliza forced her down.

“There is nothing I can do about that, map or no.” Patrick brushed sand from his shoulder. “In battle there are sacrifices to be made.”

Shoving past Blake, James slugged the man across the jaw.

Patrick’s head swerved, blood squirting from his nose. Firelight reflected flames of hell in his eyes as he righted himself and charged James. But it was Dodd, this time, who blocked the assault. “We will give you the maps. I could not bear it should the lady die.” Thrusting his hand down one leg of his trousers, he plucked a wrinkled but carefully folded paper from inside what must be a secret pocket, and handed it to James. He jerked his head toward Patrick. “His are sewn into the back of his waistcoat.”

Blake and James tore off the man’s embroidered vest before he could protest.

“Of all the—! You have no right!” Patrick wailed. “This is thievery!”

Ripping the silk fabric, Blake pulled out two pieces of paper. Patrick, face erupting in rage, started for the colonel. James shoved him aside. He caught his balance and yanked his ruined vest from Blake’s hands. “Thieves! The lot of you!”

Ignoring him, Blake nodded at James. “Let’s go rescue Hayden and Angeline.”

Captain Ricu shoved Angeline onto the bed and then plopped in a chair to remove his boots. It was the fourth time he’d entered the cabin since he’d locked her inside. His cabin, the captain’s cabin, she deduced from the size and lavish furnishings. Each time he’d returned, the stink of alcohol was stronger, his eyes more glazed, his threats more insidious. Yet each time she thought he would ravish her, each time he pinned her to the bed and started to rip her bodice, he’d shoved away and stormed out in a groan of frustration.