Gallant Rogue (Reluctant Heroes Book 3) (12 page)

Jack looked down at his plate. He gave an exasperated sigh and turned his attention to the men gathered, looking at each one slowly before finally settling upon Jinx, his first mate, the same man who brought up the grisly topic.

As he looked into his first mate's face, Jack knew Jinx, too, would never forget that man’s tormented screams as Count Rochembeau gelded him and tossed his manly parts into the sea.

“Bloody Hell,” Morgan murmured, realizing that in their silence, they were admitting that it was true.

“Bloody, yes,” Jinx commented, and drank his claret in one long pull. With unsteady fingers, he reached for the bottle and refilled his glass. He lifted it to the gathering, signaling he’d say no more on the subject.

“I don’t believe the man was actually alive when he did it.” Jack lied--in a matter of fact tone to save the lady in their midst the true horror they shared.

“Oh, to be so loved by a man,” Chloe's face became dreamy and distant.

Jack nearly choked on his claret. He gave her a peculiar look. “Indeed? You would wish for a man to dismember the body of another man to prove his affections for you?”

“Do not be silly, Captain,” she said, as if suddenly coming to herself. “It’s the idea of a man loving a woman so deeply that when she was harmed he would be so overcome with the anguish and a burning need to avenge his beloved.”

He swallowed the last of his wine. It stuck and almost didn't go past the painful lump in his throat. He remembered feeling that same anguish she was romanticizing. He remembered acting upon that anguish. It might seem poetic, to a woman reading polite euphemisms about such acts in a story book. Actually witnessing a man descending into a violent rage and behaving like a primitive beast was neither romantic nor poetic. It was the stuff of nightmares.

Jack had killed for the sake of a woman. He couldn’t get to the men responsible for Amelia’s death, so he took to attacking any Arab ship he came across. He killed without conscience. He had been mad with grief and from heavy use of opium. He became a monster.

And one day, he met a monster more frightening than himself: Donovan Beaumont, aka
The Raven
. They met on the Indian Ocean as rival pirates and formed an alliance. Donovan helped Jack by weaning him off his opium addiction. Still, it was a case of the jungle tiger training a barn cat to go after bigger prey. Together, they terrorized merchant ships in the East Indies and made a fortune by releasing their fury upon an unjust and uncaring world.

Women. They always wanted to pretty up a grim reality and dress it in lace and ribbons
.

Jinx stared at the center of the table, his revulsion of the incident evident.

The silence was unmistakable, as each man grew grim at the potent reminder of The Raven’s, maniacal tendencies.

“Did I say something to offend you?” Chloe glanced about the table at the five men.

“No, ma’am.” Three of the men spoke at once, eager to assure the dark-haired beauty that her presence at table could only be considered a great boon. Most of the voyages to and from England were tedious at best. Having a woman to dine with, a woman who wasn’t accompanied by a brooding husband, was a rare occurrence, and his men would savor each moment, even if it meant briefly reliving the disturbing memory of their employer’s bloody retribution.

“The count’s past is dark.” Jinx was the one to speak for the men. “He was extremely... enthusiastic... regarding his scientific studies, mainly in the quest for suitable
specimens
.” The man actually flinched as he said the words. “It upsets the crew to remember such days. The count is happy now, married to a lovely woman with whom he has sired several children. We like to remember our benefactor and employer in that more positive mien, ma’am.”

Jack nodded.
How diplomatic
. Well put, without a hint of censure directed at their guest for her morbid fascination with the count’s dark side. Mr. Jenkins, aka Jinx, was a former schoolmaster. Jack couldn’t have explained the situation better himself.

“I have been summoned to his laboratory more than once during my time at Ravencrest.” Chloe leaned close, as if to disclose a horrible secret. The men leaned in to hear her words.

“I’ve seen his lordship’s collection of preserved organs. We should be relieved the count has found his happiness and has set aside his ‘anatomy studies’ at his wife's request. Not everyone finds the missing half of their soul.” 

Chapter Ten

It was a dreary end to what was supposed to be a special evening.

After Chloe’s comment, the party broke up. His guests left the cabin, except Jinx.

As if sensing Jack’s quick descent into the morose, his first mate lingered and sipped his drink in silence with his captain.

Mrs. O’Donovan spoke the truth. Few men suffered as the count had and so, it seemed, few could hope to find such a glorious and all consuming love.

“I take it her late husband wasn’t her prince charming,” Jinx commented in an attempt to relieve the heavy gloom that had settled over the room.

“I believe they were happy, Mr. and Mrs. Gareth O’Donovan.”

“Aye, sir.” Jinx frowned. “If you say so. He was a darkie, weren’t he? A bastard son.”

“He was a noble and learned man.” Jack retorted, incensed to hear Gareth O’Donovan disparaged by his first mate. “I liked him, and that is all you need recall.”

Jinx slumped back in the chair, a slight pout on his lip at the reprimand.

“Immoral men abuse the women they hold in slavery. The children of such unions should not be blamed for circumstances they have no control over. It is a deplorable situation, but let us not despise the victims for the sins of the perpetrators.”

“True.” Jinx fingered the rim of his empty glass and gave Jack a mournful glance. “It’s just...I can’t help it, sir. I can’t help my feelings. She is a lovely, charming white woman. Why did she marry
him
? It weren’t doing her any favors. In society’s terms, she was marrying
down
.”

“She married a witty, intelligent man. She loved him, plain and simple. A beautiful blind princess might fall in love with you one day; should I tell her she’s marrying down if she wants your sorry, sun-bleached hide, Mr. Obadiah Jenkins, blacksmith’s son and first mate on the
Pegasus
?”

“Please, no.” The man’s eyes widened, as did his grin. “Let me have my dream, won’t you Cap’n? Let her think I’m Prince Charming, if that’s her wish.”

Jack picked up the opened bottle of whiskey between them and reached across the table to fill his first mate’s glass. “Gareth always had a certain look about him, as I recall. A sadness, as if he felt he didn’t belong in either world, his mother’s or his father’s. Even so, he was a brilliant wit, and could have danced circles around any philosopher or statesmen. A pity his life was cut short, being thrown by a damned horse.” After splashing a generous portion into his own glass, Jack set the empty bottle aside. 

“A tragedy for Mrs. O’Donovan, being tossed so young into widowhood. So, she’s startin’ a new life in a new land, with distant relatives she’s never met before.” Jinx snuffled and rubbed his nose as the whiskey he’d soaked up made it tingle. “There's no such thing as a warm welcome for a relation from afar who's not richer than those he comes to abide with.”

“She’ll find a wealthy don to make her his lady wife.”

Again, Jinx scrunched up his face, as if trying to figure out an answer to a riddle that puzzled him. “She’s about thirty, I’ll wager. A man with land to pass on likes a tender bit for a wife to give him an heir. Unless . . .?”  He rolled his lips and tossed his head back to study the beams above him. “Unless she charms some old fellow who already has an heir.”

“She’s still an attractive woman.” Jack found himself saying before he even realized he’s spoken. And damn if he didn’t say it with more passion than he should have. “She was always vivacious. She's beautiful, graceful as any ship of the line. I’ve admired her for years.”

“You don’t’ say?” Jinx gave Jack a hard stare.

“Damn you, Mr. Jenkins, mind your own affairs!” Jack's cheeks were burning.

“Aye, sir.” The wily man grinned. “As your first mate, it is my job to mark your moods, anticipate your desires, and help you carry out your intentions, as you’ve reminded me often in our long association. I’d be remiss at my duties if I did not bring this apparent fascination to your attention, sir.”

“Good night, Mr. Jenkins.” Jack stood, and so did his personal devil. The man gave him a quick salute and was out the door without needing further instruction to flee.

*    *    *

The screams coming from the cabin next door brought Jack up from his bunk at a rush.

He grabbed the pistols he kept at the ready, a habit from his pirating days, shoved them into the waist of his trousers and reached for his sword.

He was out the door and across the hall in a trice.

Three other officers joined him there, all in similar states of undress. Jinks, Lt. Morgan, and Mr. Harris. They looked to him to take the lead and breach the portal.

He hesitated. The shrieking had stopped.

Did she have a bad dream? He really didn’t want to go plowing in there and startle the poor woman with his sword raised and his men following--not in the middle of the night.

“Go on then.” Jinx prompted behind him. “You are the captain, after all.”

Jack grimaced and bit his tongue to contain a raw retort. When had the proper and respectful Mr. Jinx acquired such cheek? Jack raised his fist to the door, determined to at least announce his presence to the poor woman before leading the charge of men into her private suite.

But that nerve--shredding shrieking started again, combined with a steady thumping sound as if someone were being chased and beaten with a stick.

Jack burst through the door, expecting darkness and a sizable intruder to greet him. Instead, he was met with bright lights as all the lanterns in the cabin seemed to have been set ablaze. Chloe was in the corner with her back to the door. She didn’t seem to notice the men filing in. Her arm was raised. She appeared to be in the midst of bludgeoning something.

“Mrs. O’Donovan?” he said in a light tone, trying to get her attention. Her hair was flowing in a gleaming, obsidian waterfall down her back, reaching nearly to her round bottom. Jack cleared his throat and tried again when she didn’t respond to his gentle speech. “
Mrs. O’Donovan
,” he repeated in his strict captain’s tone. “Is there a problem with your lodgings?”

She turned, and seemed startled to see him standing in the portal with his men. Her lovely ebony arches fell as she frowned. “Yes, there is.” She pointed to the large windows to her left. “It’s that silly girl, shrieking as if to raise the dead over a rodent.”

All attention moved from the delectable and vivacious Spanish beauty clad in a light muslin gown to the thin, pinch--faced adolescent girl, who was standing on the window seat clutching a blanket about her chest and looking as if she were being set upon by an entire crew of pirates.

The maid blinked. Her lower lip quivered slightly. She looked at the men with terror. “There was a large rat in here.”

“Marta, get down and help me,” Chloe scolded. “Your ridiculous shrieking has awakened the crew. The least you can do is help me catch the little blighter.”

“A
rat
?” Jinx dropped his pistol arm so that the business end was pointing at the floor. “All right, mates, let’s not tarry. Let’s get the dreadful beastie out of here for the lady.” He gestured with his free hand for the men behind him to find the creature for Mrs. O’Donovan.

“Oh, I have him,” Chloe replied without emotion. “At least, I think it is a he.” She set her weapon, a parasol she’d been holding by the pointed end so she could use the wooden handle as a cudgel, on the trunk beside her. Without flinching, the woman picked up the dead rat and held it by the tail for all to see, letting it dangle beneath her fingers as her face registered triumph. The rat’s head was split open. Dark ruby blood oozed from its nose and brow. The left eye appeared to be displaced, crushed by the blow of Chloe’s parasol handle. “If one of you wouldn’t mind burying him at sea, I’d be most grateful.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Jinx, Lt. Morgan, and Harris all pushed forward to assist her. The trio tripped over each other in their rush to aid the fair lady. It was Harris in the end that took the bloody little creature from her.

Muted crying could be heard from the window.

The maid
. Jack felt little sympathy for the girl. He hoped this was not going to set a precedent. “Stop whining,” he admonished. “Get your mistress some water so she may wash the blood from her hands. And shame on you, for letting her do all the work.”

“I can’t stand rats, sir.” The girl blathered through fractured sobs. “I despise ‘em, disgusting creatures.  I’ve never had to catch one before…”  Sniff, snuffle. “Me father, he always does, or one of me brothers.”

“Water, Marta. Now,” Mrs. O’Donovan commanded. “And my shawl, thank you. I shouldn’t wish to put you out
too much
in your duties.”

Jack couldn’t contain a chuckle. Chloe was well and truly angry. And she should be. Why didn’t the maid just knock on one of the cabin doors and ask an officer to help them capture the beastie if she was that upset? Instead, she climbed on the furniture, took to shrieking like a banshee while leaving her mistress to attend to the problem.

The girl hopped down from her perch. She hurried to the washstand and fetched the bowl and a towel and brought them to her mistress. Mrs. O’Donovan pushed up the sleeves of her elegant nightgown and began washing her hands while the maid stood holding the bowl for her. Mrs. O’Donovan carefully dried her dainty white hands, and shooed Marta away with a silent mouthed word.

“I wonder how the beastie came to be in here in the first place,” Lt. Morgan said to the room at large. “They don’t usually appear this far above deck. They stick to the cargo hold, and the darkness.”