Elusive Hope (31 page)

But now she realized he’d rescued her from far more than a little mud.

Brushing aside the final leaves of a large fern, he escorted her into town. At first glance, things seemed normal. Quiet, but normal.

“Everyone must be eating super,” Magnolia said as they made their way down the main street, though no smell of cooking food reached her nose.

Her chest tight, she slowed her pace, dreading seeing her father, dreading the looks of censure she would receive from both him and the other colonists, the sordid rumors that would fly when they saw her with a bare-chested Hayden. Hayden was taking his time as well. She hoped it was because he didn’t want to release her to her father’s care, because he loved her and wanted to stay with her. Oh, why didn’t they just turn around and disappear back into the jungle where they could be together? Where they could frolic and play in the waterfalls and sleep under the star-lit canopy. One word from him and she would do it, she would give up being clean and sleeping on a bed and having her belly full. Just to be with him. But he’d not said much to her all day.

They approached the meeting shelter. The sight that met Magnolia’s eyes halted her on the spot. Sent her heart vaulting into her throat. A band of colorfully-dressed men armed with pistols and swords circled the colonists. Magnolia shook her head. She must be seeing things. Hayden gripped her arm and tugged her back. He’d seen them too. But it was too late.

They’d been spotted.

Before Hayden could draw his pistol, a group of men swamped him, forcing his arms behind his back and ignoring his cry of pain. Another foul-smelling man dragged Magnolia to the others and tossed her to the ground. Her stomach twisted in a knot. She gulped for air. Terror sped across the faces of the colonists, all held at gunpoint.

Magnolia’s mother shrieked and started for her, but one of the assailants barred her with the barrel of a musket. She collapsed, quivering, into her husband’s arms. Magnolia couldn’t tell if her father was happy, angry, or ambivalent to see her, his stare was so benumbed.

It took four men to drag Hayden to sit on a stump. Their eyes met. His brimming with fury, hers pleading for help. He gave her a nod as if to assure her all would be well. But she knew that wasn’t true. Gathering her skirts, she struggled to stand, grimacing when the assailants laughed at her attempt. Finally she rose, brushed off her skirts and swallowed down her fear.

An ostentatious brute with the swagger of a dandy approached. His lips slanted at an odd angle as he placed a jeweled finger on his chin and took her in with his vulgar gaze. “What have we here?” he said in a heavy Portuguese accent.

“Just another one of our colonists,” she heard Blake say.

Magnolia peered around the man to see Eliza clinging to Blake, terror shadowing her face. The colonel’s jaw bunched as his eyes sped across the group, no doubt planning some means of defense or escape. Angeline trembled beside James, who moved to shield her from the monster’s view. The rest of the colonists gathered their children close and cowered beneath the weapons pointed their way. A few women sobbed. But at least everyone seemed in one piece.

“Since no one tells me where is the gold…”The brute spun around and waved an arm through the air, his lacy cuffs fluttering in the breeze. “And I know you found it. I will take a woman for myself. One every night until you tell me the truth.” He turned and slid a finger down Magnolia’s cheek. The man reeked of sweat and filth.

Disgusted, she turned away.

“Starting with this delicate flower.”

Blood abandoned her heart. Her knees began to quake. Before Magnolia could move, he hoisted her onto his shoulder and stomped away, his men following after him. The last thing she heard was her mother’s scream and Hayden’s growl before someone silenced him with a thud.

C
HAPTER
25

M
agnolia struggled against the ropes binding her hands to the captain’s bed. Yet for all her toil, she gained only bloody wrists and searing pain. Stretching out her legs, she adjusted her bottom on the hard deck. What sort of man kept a lady tied to a bed frame and sitting on nothing but wood that felt like stone for hours?

A pirate
.

She shivered as the sounds of drunken revelry filtered through the deck head: a vulgar ditty accompanied by an off-key fiddle, shouts, curses that bruised her ears, random pistol shots, and the distant clang of a sword. The same raucous din she’d been hearing all night. Ever since Captain Armando Manuel Ricu had kidnapped her from the colony and dragged her on board his ship and into his cabin. When he’d tied her to his bed, sunlight angled over his oak desk and mahogany paneling. But hours ago, a curtain of black dropped over the stern windows, encasing the room in darkness. How long could these pirates carry on with their revelry?

She hoped a lot longer.

Terror gripped her at the thought of what the captain had planned for her when he retired for the evening. How could the colonists have allowed these horrid men to steal her away? How could Hayden? They’d all just stood there, staring wide-eyed at the barrels of the pirates’ pistols…doing absolutely nothing. Even her own parents! Even when the vile pig-of-a-captain flung her over his shoulder and carried her away.

And for what?
Gold
. Magnolia grimaced. Dodd and his infernal gold! He must have found it. He must have buried it where no one would ever think to look. She could tell by the malicious twinkle in his eyes when the pirates had demanded it be returned or they’d start kidnapping the women one by one.

The ship rolled over an incoming wave. Magnolia braced herself against the deck, but her weight pulled against the ropes. Pain shot through her wrists. The wood creaked and groaned, voicing her inward protest. Why, when anchored mere yards off shore, did the ship insist on pitching and lurching as if it was out at sea? The same familiar smells that had haunted her on the long voyage from Charleston to Brazil now saturated her lungs: moist wood, mold, salt, tar, waste…and something else, something new that made her nose twitch. She couldn’t place the foul odor, but surely it emanated from the beasts who inhabited this putrid bucket they called a ship.

Hanging her head, she stared at her soiled gown. Her eyes burned, but no tears came. She’d already spent every last one of them—could feel their salty tracks drying on her cheeks and neck. Mercy me, she must look a fright. But what did it matter?

She was about to become a pirate captain’s mistress. Lose her innocence to that vulgar Philistine. And maybe her life. Ah…there the tears were.
Crack!
A pistol shot snapped her gaze to the deck head. Her ears perked, desperate to hear the sounds of a battle as her friends stormed aboard to save her. But instead, the cackle of sordid laughter accompanied the return of the discordant fiddle.

And Magnolia began to sob again.

Why wasn’t anyone rescuing her? Tears spilled down her cheeks. One dropped onto her wrist, seeping beneath the ropes, stinging her raw skin. Why wasn’t Hayden coming to save her? Had their kiss meant so little?

Perhaps she had not been the kindest person in the world. Yes, she had often complained about her situation. She had sabotaged the ship that brought them here, had told a few lies, grumbled at the lack of food And comforts. Yes, she’d tried to swindle Hayden into taking her home. She often drank too much, though most of the colonists weren’t privy to that particular vice. Her eyes locked upon a half-empty bottle of port sitting atop a chest at the end of the bed, and she licked her lips. Drat…just out of her reach.

Regardless, she was a nice person, wasn’t she? She had assisted Eliza in the infirmary many times. She had hauled water from the river. She had gathered wood and picked mangos a few times for breakfast. She’d even saved Hayden from a wolf! Surely those things—huge efforts for someone of her station—made up for her occasional bad humor.

The ship rolled. Boot steps thundered outside the door. Magnolia’s heart charged through her chest as if it were looking for a place to hide. She wished she could do the same.

The door burst open, slamming against the bulkhead, and in walked Captain Armando Ricu—all sinewy six-foot plus of him. Tawdry music and laughter swirled in behind him like a hellish minion. The deck tilted, and he gripped the door jamb, a perplexed look in his glassy eyes as he lifted his lantern and surveyed the cabin. Curly black hair that would be the envy of any woman flowed halfway down his back over a waistcoat embroidered with silver and pinned with so many jewels and diamond-encrusted brooches, it made him look like a floating candelabra.

Trophies from his conquests, no doubt. Magnolia gulped.

He staggered into the room and set down the lantern. Then planting his fists on the wide belt at his waist, he focused on Magnolia as she attempted to curl into a ball small enough to avoid detection.

It didn’t work.

“Ah, there you be,
amor.”
His broken English was only further befuddled by the slur of alcohol. “Time to join the
festa.”

If by festa, he meant festivities, Magnolia would have to decline—wanted so desperately to decline, to blink her eyes and wake up in the middle of the jungle, sitting around the fire with Hayden, eating fruit and bantering back and forth as they so often had done.

Instead, the toe of the man’s boot—made of some kind of repulsive reptile—appeared in her vision then landed on a fold of her skirt, marking her taffeta gown.

If only that was all that would be stained this night.

Tiny specks of light spun at the edge of her vision. Her breath huddled in her throat.
Oh, God. Help me. Please help me
. That was twice she’d appealed to the Almighty in the last few days. More than in her entire life. In truth, she rarely had much need to ask for anything. Except when her parents had dragged her to Brazil. And by then she had just been plain angry at God for allowing such an atrocious thing to happen.

Captain Ricu plucked a knife from his belt. Lantern light gleamed on the blade as it plummeted toward her. Magnolia tried to scream but only managed a pathetic whimper. The sound of splitting hemp reached her ears. Her wrists flew apart. Fingers as thick as bamboo grappled her arms and yanked her to her feet. Pain etched across her shoulders. The pirate thrust his face into hers, measuring her with eyes that seemed afloat in barrels of rum. Rum. The spicy scent of it filled the air between them and caused Magnolia to lick her lips, despite her predicament. What she wouldn’t give for a drink or two, or eight, right now. Anything to send her into the bliss of unconsciousness, that secret place wherein existed no pain, no pressure, no insect-infested jungle, no pirates!

“Yes,
muito bonito
. We have fun, you and I,
é
?”

The cabin spun in her vision.
This can’t be happening
.

Laughing, the captain shoved her onto the bed, slammed the door, and returned to her in one stride.

Magnolia scrambled backward across the ratty mattress. Hard wood knuckled her back, preventing her retreat. There was nowhere to hide. Nowhere to escape.

Captain Ricu slipped out of his jeweled waistcoat and tossed it onto a chair. Reflections from the gems twinkled on the deck head like stars. And for a moment, Magnolia dreamed she was far away in a small boat drifting at sea, staring at the night sky. Far, far away where no one could touch her…

But the pirate’s belch broke her trance. He removed his sword and pistols, tore off his stained shirt, and leaned on the bed frame, eyeing her like a tiger eyeing a hunk of meat.

Magnolia squeezed her eyes shut. Seconds passed, yet no meaty claws seized her. Instead, a latch creaked and a blast of briny wind sent a chill down her back. Boot steps and a grunt of surprise from the captain opened her eyes. He had risen to his full height and spun around toward the now open door.

A stream of angry Portuguese shot from his mouth.

Whatever he said, it did not deter the intruder. Mercy me, was she now to be fought over like prey? All hope drained from her. Her eyes landed on the bottle of port and she started for it. Not for a drink, but to use it as a weapon. Battling against layers of petticoats, she was almost there when a voice, a wonderfully delicious voice, brought breath back into her lungs. She almost dared not look for fear she’d slipped into madness.

“Step aside,
Capitão
, I’m taking the lady back.”

Magnolia peered around Captain Ricu’s massive frame to see Hayden dressed in black trousers, a white open-collared shirt, a red neckerchief at his throat, and pointing a cutlass at the captain.

Her heart surged.

Captain Ricu chuckled, hesitated, and stared at Hayden as if he’d just told a joke. But when Hayden’s blade poked the captain’s chest, his stance immediately stiffened. In a speed that defied his inebriation, the captain ducked and charged Hayden, knocking the blade from his grip. It clanked to the deck.

Shrieking, Magnolia scrambled to the edge of the bed and reached for the fallen cutlass, but the captain kicked it beneath his desk and dove for his sword. Hayden charged forward. He shoved the captain. The man toppled backward over a chair. Kicking the broken seat aside, Hayden jerked the man up and slammed him against the bulkhead. Before the pirate could react, Hayden shoved his muscled forearm against his throat until the man’s face transformed into a bloated beet.

“I said I’m taking the lady back,” Hayden seethed. Lines of red appeared on his shirt from where the wolf had bitten him.

Heart slamming against her ribs, Magnolia jumped off the bed and grabbed the bottle of port. Captain Ricu sputtered and blubbered, his eyes wide. Hayden released him and slugged him in the stomach. Bending over, the pirate coughed and gasped for air. For the briefest of seconds, Hayden’s eyes flashed to Magnolia. The concern and affection within them nearly brought her to tears.

Would have brought her to tears if she hadn’t seen Captain Ricu straighten and raise his arm to strike Hayden, a malicious smirk on his lips.