My Seaswept Heart (37 page)

He lifted his mug, growling deep in his
throat when he found it empty. Anne Cornwall wasn’t for the likes
of him, and he needed to remember that. Forget her. Forget about
d’Porteau while he was at it.

Hell, the good citizens of Libertia were
right. The Frenchman probably wouldn’t show his face around here
again. That was if Keena and Deacon didn’t catch him and bring him
back.

But the more he tried to forget, the more he
tried to wash away memories under a flood of rum, the more his gaze
was drawn to her.

“Gawd, lad, but you’ve got it bad.”

Jamie’s gaze whipped around toward Israel. He
opened his mouth to protest, then snapped it shut again. Flattening
his hands on the rough-hewn table he wobbled to his feet. “I’m
goin’ where I don’t have to listen to your jaw flappin’.”

Israel’s laughter mingled with the strident
strains of the violin as Jamie stumbled toward the beach.

Anne saw him go. She missed her quick turn to
the left, standing still and pumping into Matthew when he made the
correct move. Being the sweet man he was Matthew steadied her, then
set about apologizing profusely.

“No, really. It was entirely my fault.” Anne
took a deep breath. “Do you suppose I could sit for a while? I seem
to be more tired than I thought.”

“Of course. Let me see if I can find your
uncle.”

“That’s quite all right. Please.” Anne placed
her hand on his sleeve. “Don’t bother yourself.”

As she hurried out of the glow of the bonfire
and burning brands, Anne heard Israel calling her. She stopped and
turned to face him. He was puffing for breath as he approached her,
but it didn’t stop him from getting right to the point.

“Do ye know what yer about, Mistress
Anne?”

“I think I do.” Anne lifted her chin.

“And I’m just as sure ye don’t.”

“I really don’t see that this is—”

“Now don’t go tellin’ me ’tis none of me
business ’cause it is. This whole crazy scheme for ye to bring
Jamie MacQuaid into this only occurred to ye because of what I told
ye about him.” His voice lowered. “And I don’t like the thought of
ye getting hurt.”

For a long moment Anne could only stare at
Israel. Backdropped by the flickering light of the village, he
seemed an odd one to be giving her advice, a retired pirate with
grizzled hair hanging loose around his gaunt face, and a pipe stuck
in his mouth. It crossed Anne’s mind that she should be angered by
his interference, but she wasn’t.

She lifted her hand slowly, and though she
couldn’t see his features, Anne knew they registered surprise when
she touched his cheek. “I thank you for your concern, Israel. For
all you’ve done over the years for Uncle Richard... for me.” Anne
sighed in her breath. “But it’s too late. I already love him, you
see.”

Saying the words aloud seemed to make it
real, bringing all her emotions glaringly into focus. Not waiting
for him to say anything, Anne turned and started toward the beach.
Her step didn’t waver when she heard Israel. He apparently
recovered from his shock.

“He’s a pirate, Mistress Anne. He’ll break
yer heart.”

“He already has,” Anne whispered to herself.
“He already has.”

~ ~ ~

She found him standing in the surf, the water
splashing onto his boots, his face turned toward the sea. Moonlight
limed his broad shoulders and narrow hips, the long muscular legs.
Anne resisted the urge to wrap her arms around him, to lean against
his strong back. He didn’t turn around when she spoke.

“Are you planning to swim out to find your
ship?”

She heard his deep intake of breath. “I don’t
belong here, Annie.”

“Really?” Anne walked to his side, feeling
the tug of warm water as it seeped through her shoes. “What brought
you to that conclusion?”

He looked down at her then, the moonlight
sparkling on the gold hoop in his car. He smelled of rum and the
sea, but despite the swell of incoming waves his stance was firm.
Anne wondered just how drunk he was.

“I just don’t, is all,” he said before
resuming his study of the endless darkness of sea.

“The good citizens of Libertia seem to think
you do.”

“They be fools.”

“What of me, Jamie? Am I a fool, too?”

His head whipped around. Anne could feel the
intensity of his stare. It warmed her in all the places she’d
learned to crave his touch.

“Aye, Annie. Ye be the biggest fool of all...
except for me.”

“I don’t want to believe that.” Her words
were spoken softly and carried on a gust of wind toward the
breakers.

“Ye have no choice.”

Anne’s spine stiffened. Jamie MacQuaid
created a problem to be sure, but problems had solutions. “There
are always choices, Jamie,” she insisted. “We simply need to find a
way.”

His laugh was sharp and without mirth. “Ye
haven’t changed even a wee bit, have ye, Annie?” His tone was
without rancor. “’Tis still your contention that a solution is
there if only ye look hard enough.” He shook his head slowly.
“Life, my dear Annie, doesn’t work that way. I’d have thought your
brief acquaintance with me would have taught ye that.”

“I want you to stay.” There, she’d said it.
“With me.”

“Here, on Libertia?”

“Yes, why not? ’Tis a lovely island, and the
people seem to like you. They—”

“Tolerate me, Anne. They tolerate me. And
that’s only because they don’t know who I really am.” He paused,
and then tried to change the tone of his denial. “Besides, I don’t
think I have it in me to be a follower of the great philosopher,
John Locke.”

“That’s not true. You ran your ship by his
doctrines. I saw it for myself.”

“Ye saw what ye wanted to see.”

“Does that include you? Am I only imagining
the feelings I have for you? Imagining that you care for me? Tell
me I am. Tell me true and I’ll leave you in peace to stare into
nothingness.”

She gave him the perfect out. The perfect
opportunity to take the easy road. He could lie to her. Lying was
one of the things he did best. Part and parcel of the scoundrel he
was. Then why couldn’t he do it?

His fingers fisted. “My feelings for ye are
not the issue.” Jamie strained to make out her features in the
silver glow from the moon. “I’d lay down me life for ye, Annie.” He
heard her swallow. “But I won’t stay and sacrifice it.”

“But—”

“Annie. Annie.” Jamie gave into desire and
laid his hands on her shoulders. It seemed only natural to pull her
into his arms. To soften the reality. “I’ve a price on me head. A
noose awaiting me if I’m caught.” He tugged in a breath but his
lungs still seemed starved for air. “How much time do ye think we
might have? A sennight? A year, perhaps? Though part of me... a
strong part is willing to take the risk, I won’t.”

“I’m not asking you to sacrifice yourself.
I’d never want that.”

“But it’s not meself I’m thinking of, Annie.
’Tis ye.” He tangled his fingers in her hair, loving the feel of it
the way it curled around his fingers.

“You needn’t worry about me.” Anne wrapped
her aims around him. Water seeped up her skirts and petticoats. But
she didn’t care. She didn’t care about anything but him. She held
on as tightly as she could, but in the end it wasn’t tight
enough.

Gently, as if he feared she might shatter at
his touch, Jamie separated them. “But I do worry about ye, Annie.
And that’s why as soon as the
Lost Cause
returns, I must
leave.”

~ ~ ~

Yet he hesitated, putting off his departure.
The
Lost Cause
had sailed back to Libertia without the
French Whore
, as Jamie predicted.

“We lost sight of her on the third day,”
Deacon explained. “Off the coast of Jamaica.” He stared at Jamie
soberly, fixing him with his good eye. “I don’t think d’Porteau
wants to risk this island again.

“Let us hope not,” Jamie said before rowing
back to Libertia. He’d suggested that his crew would be better off
staying aboard. They’d been less than pleased, but he promised
they’d sail into New Providence soon and with jewels in their
pockets.

Which was all the more reason for him to
finish his business here and be gone, Jamie decided as he sat
across the table from several of Libertia’s leaders. Richard
Cornwall was there. But as his mind kept losing focus, Jamie
imagined his presence was requested out of respect.

Anne was not present. He hadn’t seen more
than a passing glimpse of her since he left her on the beach the
night of the celebration. He planned it that way, purposely staying
away from any place she was likely to be.

And it was breaking his damn heart.

“I don’t understand why you won’t transport
these vile creatures to New Providence for us. We are willing to
pay you well for your trouble.”

Matthew Baxter’s words interrupted Jamie’s
thoughts and he shifted his attention to the man who’d danced with
Anne. Jamie knew it was stupid, but he couldn’t get past his
dislike for the young man. He tried to hide it as he again gave his
excuses... not the real reason he couldn’t sail into a British port
with a brig frill of pirates, but the one he’d come up with when
first asked.

“I’d like to help ye, Matthew. But I can’t.
We’ve tarried too long in these waters as it is. We’ve cargo bound
for the New World that we must see to.”

“But New Providence is but a few hours out of
your—”

“And I told ye I can’t do it.” Why wouldn’t
the man just take no for an answer? He’d probably pursue Anne with
the same dogged persistence, finally breaking down her resistance
and wedding her. Jamie’s jaw clenched, and he flattened his hands
on the tabletop, pushing to his feet. He had to get off this island
before he lost his mind.

“But what are we to do with them?”

Jamie had no answer except to hang them all
from the highest tree, but he knew the good citizens of Libertia
didn’t want to hear that. Hell, he’d suggested it once and most of
them had turned pale with shock. They were law-abiding people, who
let the court system take care of their criminals. Even if it meant
feeding and keeping the pirates prisoners in a makeshift jail until
they could be transported to New Providence... where they would
undoubtedly be hung.

And where he’d most likely join them in their
swing from the gallows if he took them there. As it was Jamie
couldn’t imagine why some of the pirates hadn’t filled their
jailor’s ears with stories about Jamie.

Another reason for him to leave this island
as quickly as he could.

Which he would do. Today.

That decision made, Jamie went in search of
Anne. He found her in a cane field standing among the tall grassy
plants.

“Looks as if ’tis doing well,” he said,
holding her stare when she whirled around.

She hesitated a moment, then sighed. “I hope
we can get one more good crop this year.” She turned back to survey
the sweep of green.

“I came to tell ye I was leaving.”

Anne picked a leaf and twirled it between her
fingers, but she said nothing.

“Did ye not hear me?”

“I heard you.” Anne tossed the leaf aside and
turned to face him, anger and pain warring with her features. “What
do you want from me? A goodbye kiss? A wish for a good voyage?”

“Must we part like this?”

“Yes, Jamie, I think we must, for you’re the
one forcing the parting.” Crossing her arms Anne twisted away from
him.

“’Tis not me, but circumstances, as ye damn
well know.”

“Then take your circumstances and leave. Just
don’t expect me to be happy about it.”

“If it helps any, I’m not pleased by the
prospect of never seeing ye again, either.”

“That surprises me.” Anne slanted him a look
over her shoulder. “As much care as you’ve taken to avoid me.”

Jamie reached out but dropped his hand when
she flinched away. “’Twas for your own good, and ye know it.”

Time passed with only the chatter of birds
and the eternal wind breaking the silence.

“There be something else.”

“What?”

“I don’t like asking, Annie. And if it were
just me, I wouldn’t. But ye know how things be run on me ship.” He
shuffled his feet, hating his reluctance to ask, and finally
blurted it out. “I’ll be collecting those jewels now, if ye don’t
mind.”

But she did mind. His request at least
temporarily blotted the pain of his leavetaking from her mind. “But
I... I...”

“It be true we didn’t capture d’Porteau, but
it weren’t for lack of trying. And most everyone agrees he’ll not
be coming here again, and—”

“I don’t have them.” She blurted out the
truth.

“Well now, of course, I knew ye wouldn’t be
carrying them around with ye but—”

“No.” Anne sighed and wrung her hands. “You
don’t understand. I really don’t have them.”

Realization of what she was saying spread
across his face. “Ye mean ye lied to me?”

“No,” she blurted out. “Not exactly. I had
the jewels, every one I offered you. But they’re gone. Stolen by
d’Porteau. That’s why I wanted to go with you so I could find them
when we captured his ship.” Anne couldn’t tell by his expression
whether or not he planned to give in to his desire to wring her
neck. She stepped toward him ready to plead for understanding when
they both turned toward the boy running their way. He was yelling
at the top of his lungs.

“What’s he saying?” Jamie asked when he saw
how pale Anne had become.

“Arthur is back,” she murmured before taking
off at a run. “My cousin has returned!”