Relief washed over him. "You're the best there be, Tupper."
"Don't be buttering up the goose already in the pan." She pointed a finger into his face. "You owe me."
"Anything." He gave her his most charming smile. "Name it."
"Don't think I won't." Tupper shook her head and waved her finger. "An' keep all your grinnin' to yourself, ya fool. It may work on those empty headed females you like to tumble, but it doesn't work on me." She left him to head deck side.
Malcolm MacTavish, the ship's Master Gunner, exited the Captain's quarters and tossed Ric the empty shackles. "Lass not one of your usual trollops."
"She's no trollop, and she sure as hell ain't mine."
"So ye say," MacTavish grumbled as he moved past. The bearded ox of a Scotsman smelled like sulfur and gun oil and looked like someone'd used him to swab a cannon. His kilt was more black powder than red tartan these days.
Ric knocked on the door before moving back into the Captain's quarters. Jocelyn sat on the side of the bed still holding together the edges of her torn chemise.
No, she wasn't his. Never would be either. But she sure as hell was one of the prettiest women he'd ever seen. He could still smell the sunshine wound into the dark curls of her hair. Memories washed over him of hiding in that alley, pressed against her all close and tight. Bold as new brass touching her like he did. Running his fingers down the girl's thigh to catch the tender back of her knee. Her skin was like nothing he'd ever laid a hand upon. Soft as down. Smooth as a king's satins.
Had there not been a bloodthirsty hoard after them he'd have loved to have dipped his head another inch and had a little taste of her sweet mouth. It might have been worth the slap across his cheek.
But he'd missed his chance.
She was Beauchamp's daughter. If he touched her, he was a dead man. Now he'd never know the feel of her lips. He expected that missed opportunity to haunt him for many nights to come. Fair price, considering he was a damn fool.
"Are you well?" he asked when she remained quiet.
She nodded, blinking up at him.
"We're heading off to find another ship to bring you to your father."
"But he's your enemy," she argued. "You're pirates. Aren't you going to hold me for ransom?"
Why did she sound disappointed? "We don't ransom. We're more of a snatch and grab operation."
Jocelyn pulled her chemise tighter and studied her lap. "You've fought my father before."
"Aye, we've crossed swords a time or two." Ric poured her a finger of brandy from the bottle on Captain Quinn's desk, but when he offered the glass to her, she refused it. "He's a worthy opponent."
"Father enjoys a good fight. Pirates or daughters. It's fair to say he has little tolerance for either. Although, crossing pens and not swords would be more fitting in my case."
Ric debated returning the unwanted brandy to the bottle, but it'd be a sin putting liquor this fine back once it'd been poured. He solved the problem in a single swallow.
Jocelyn continued. "His last visit to the abbey may not have come to swordplay, but it may as well have. His demand to join him now was hardly a request. It was an order. And not one to defy."
Ric choked. "Did you say abbey?"
She nodded. "I've been there since the age of three. My mother passed away suddenly from a fever, and Father couldn't raise me alone. At Sainte-Genevieve we're allowed only four visits a year, but he's always fighting a battle somewhere half a world away. I rarely saw him. In fact, I would argue in the last few years you've probably crossed his path far more than I."
The girl was raised in an abbey?
If being Beauchamp's daughter was not enough to keep his grimy hands off her, this would have been. Innocent with a capital "I." Straight from a virgin vault. Tupper was right, Jocelyn Beauchamp needed to get off this ship.
He contemplated another drink, but he was in enough trouble without adding stealing more of the Capt'n's brandy to the list. "I'm sure he only wanted to keep you safe."
She met his gaze. "You and he seem to agree on that point."
Ric laughed, "I doubt he would see it that way."
"No, he would not." She lifted one delicate shoulder. "And yet, he should be in your debt." She graced him with a small smile sending a warm shaft clear through his chest. "I know I am."
He needed to get out of this cabin. "You may want to hold off before thanking me. I still need to get you out of port."
"I trust you." She dipped her chin and peered up at him.
Ric laughed again to cover his sudden unease. She trusted him? Where was her fear? This innocent girl was hardly acting like he'd expect. "Never trust a pirate." He unwound the sash about his waist and pulled his shirt over his head. Jocelyn's eyes went round as portholes. At last, a show of fear. He tossed his shirt to her. "Cover yourself. Stay below until we are well away from the docks. Then it will be safe to come up."
After grabbing another shirt from his gear in the crew's quarters, Ric climbed back into the bright late morning sun on deck. The docking lines were being tossed back over the rails and the lower sails set. Tupper stood at the helm ready to navigate the Scarlet Night out of the busy harbor. Once beyond the crowd of ships anchored off shore, they could raise the mainsail and catch the wind.
Bump stood alongside Tupper. Lad looked worried. He held his hands palms up, fingers moving. "Wait." He and Tupper over the years had developed their own way of communicating using hand gestures and fingering letters to spell words. Ric learned a few words as well, but Bump and Tupper "spoke" far too fast at times for him to follow.
Tupper patted his shoulder and made a small gesture. "We'll return soon."
Bump frowned and hurried to the back of the ship.
Ric jerked his chin in the boy's direction. "What's his problem?"
"He wants us to wait for Gavin."
"He and Fin Willy could be settling the sale for hours yet."
"More. Neo's gone to tell him to take his time. Even so, every second Beauchamp's daughter is on this ship makes me nervous. Let's do this and get back before Fin Willy runs out of brandy."
"Be a good thing if he does. Capt'n'll be in a fair mood. Else it'll be my tail hangin' from the crow's nest come mornin.'"
"Better yours than mine." Tupper negotiated a final ship anchored on the edge of the harbor. "Give White and Summer a hand hoisting the main."
Once secured, the wide stretch of canvas caught the wind with a snap. Jocelyn appeared at his side. She turned eyes the color of rich dark rum toward the sky.
"Won't be any time at all, and ye'll be back on yer way," Ric reassured her.
She lowered her gaze and fixed it upon him. Twists of dark hair teased across her full lips. The harsh Caribbean sun had pinked the paleness of her skin high across each cheek, down the gentle sweep of her nose, and kissed the tender tops of her shoulders.
His shirt looked a far sight better on her than a torn chemise, but its wide neck still bared those lovely shoulders and revealed a tempting amount of shadowy cleavage as well. She'd caught the voluminous fabric beneath her corset to allow the hems to ride loose over the curve of her modest skirts.
Good thing their time together would be short. She was too tempting, too chaste. Ric Robbins may be a pirate and a confirmed rogue, but he drew the line at an innocent with a father that would disembowel him before he hung him should he dare to touch his daughter.
"The sun's strong today. Best you keep to the shade where ye ken." Ric pointed toward the shadowy overhang of the upper deck.
"I--"
A rumble of thunder rolled through the air as the ship trembled beneath them.
"What the....? There ain't a cloud in the sky. Where...?" Ric looked back toward Tupper. She, too, was checking the sky.
All at once, another round of thunder roared louder behind them. The Scarlet Night slammed hard into something, tossing everyone off their feet. Ric and Jocelyn both flew forward and landed in a heap together against the bulkhead. Once more Ric's body shielded hers, but he was too shaken to pause long enough to enjoy it. He pushed away from her.
"What the hell did we hit?" Ric shouted.
White and Summer rushed to the bow and looked over the rails. There were no rocks or reefs on this side of the island.
Before he could scramble to his feet, a fierce rush of water past the hull seemed to pull them farther out toward open water as if the ship were being sucked away from the land and spit into the ocean. It tossed Ric and Jocelyn in the opposite direction as the thundering roar continued behind them. From where they fell, Ric could see the others on deck hanging on to rigging, bracing themselves against the jerking motion of the ship.
But then Ric heard them. Screams. Reaching out toward the Scarlet Night across the waves. He had little time to think before a great swell of water heading back toward the land caught the bow of the ship and tossed her about as if she were a child's toy.
Around him, everyone struggled to get to their feet. Tupper stood clutching at her forehead. Blood ran between her fingers and down her arm.
Ric looked back in horror at the swollen swell of seawater that grew into a monstrous wave as it reached the shallower waters of the harbor. Beyond, an ominous red cloud rose above Port Royal.
He grabbed for the closest eyeglass, and with shaking hands held it to his eye. It wouldn't focus. Where was the city? He couldn't see anything through the rusted mist. Turning the glass in the direction of the tallest buildings, he couldn't find them. The screams suddenly silenced as a wall of seawater obliterated his view and seemed to swallow Port Royal whole.
Ric couldn't believe what was happening. The vision before him punched all the air from his lungs. He lowered the glass and covered his eyes with a hand hoping to blot the scene from his mind. It couldn't be.
Tupper wrenched the glass from his hands. "What's happening? Oh dear God...."
They all rushed into the stern. Hornbach and Dowd emerged from below. Everyone spoke at once. MacTavish was the last to arrive. "Bloody hell, what the fuk?"
"Earthquake..." someone muttered. "Must have been an earthquake. Triggered the wave."
Tupper dropped the brass. "I can't see anything. We have to go back."
Ric lifted the glass to take another look. The gruesome images he could make out through the cloud of debris defied description. Everything that had once been was no more. Buildings, shops, ships in the harbor.... It was all gone. The city seemed to have vanished. In a matter of minutes, Port Royal had been wiped away.
"Turn about," Tupper screamed. "Someone turn this damn ship around."
"Tupper, no." Ric grabbed her arm. "There's no use. It's not safe. We can't help them. I...it's too late." A deep heaviness had settled in his chest as he looked into her panicked face.
"What are you talking about? Turn this ship around!" She glared at them before shoving past Ric. "Bloody hell, I'll do it myself." She raced back to the ship's large oak wheel and pulled it with all her might to one side.
Ric caught up to her and righted the ship. "Tupper. Stop."
"We're going back." She yanked again pulling it out of his grasp.
"There's nothing to go back to!" He pointed behind them. "Look for yourself. The city isn't there. Pulled down or flooded, there's nothing left. Even if we could make it back, we can't change what's happened. It's too late. If I thought there was a chance they survived..."
She grabbed his shirt in her fists. "Gavin is there. Neo. Finch. The rest of the bloody crew. We're going back."
"To what?" he yelled. "Where they were isn't there anymore." He stared into her wild eyes. Blood mixed with her tears and ran down her cheek. He gave her a shake. She had to listen to sense. "Tupper...they're gone."
"No," She screamed and shoved him back before she returned to the wheel and forced the ship to begin its wide turn.
"Stop!" Ric pulled at her hands. "We can't risk getting caught in another tidal wave in the harbor."
Tupper wrenched away from him and straightened before pulling her pistol. She pointed the barrel at Ric's face and cocked the hammer. Her chest rose and fell in shaky pants. "I said, we're going back!"
Chapter 4.
White and Summer pulled at the oars. MacTavish and Ric sat like stones in the rear of the skiff. The sights surrounding them defied description.
It was MacTavish who had convinced Tupper the Scarlet Night wouldn't be able to get through the debris and carnage in the harbor, or what had been the harbor not an hour before. Tupper was past consolable. She would have dived off the fantail and swum back into the harbor had he not assured her the four of them would return to Port Royal--or where it had been to see if they could find Captain Quinn and the rest.
They all knew it was a fool's mission before they even got close. Gavin Quinn and those members of the crew unfortunate enough to be in the city when the earthquake hit, were dead. There was no chance they survived. What had been now sat beneath what must be forty feet of seawater judging by what was visible. Ships sitting at anchor now lay at the bottom of the sea. Mast tips and hulls beached like bloated whales along the surface of the water.
Bodies. Dozens of bodies floated silent among the debris. The sky still burned red.
"In all me years, I ain't bloody well seen the like of this," mumbled MacTavish.
"They never had a chance." Ric looked for any signs of life among the victims in the water.
Soon the harbor became too choked with wreckage to get the skiff any closer. Ric used the eyeglass once more to scan the landscape. Nothing looked familiar. Any sign of buildings remaining looked as if they had simply dropped into the ground. Roofs and chimneys were all he could see.
The Rogue Wave wasn't there. Neither was Auction Square. He couldn't make out where the Barnacle once sat, or any evidence of the White Witch. What he did see were few survivors trying to dig corpses out of the ground. Some buried to their necks. Silent screams frozen on their faces. Limbs stuck out of the sand. Arms reaching for help, which didn't come in time.
"There's no use trying to get closer. Where we sit now is a good two lanes inland from where the docks stood." White shook his head. "Any poor bastard closer to the shore is lost."
Ric lowered the glass and rubbed at his eyes. "I can't believe what I'm seeing."
Summer took off his headcloth and held it over his heart. "Capt'n's gone. They've all been swallowed up."
"Bloody hell." MacTavish scrubbed at his beard.
"I ain't never gonna forget this as long as I live," declared Summer.
What Ric would never forget was the look on Bump's face. After Tupper had threatened to kill him on the spot if they didn't turn around, Ric had seen him. The boy stood looking back toward shore. Not moving, not making even the smallest of sounds. His face a mask of pure grief. Tearless eyes stared in wide shock. His chin trembled with the effort of holding his emotions in check. He'd been the only one in the tail of the ship when the earthquake began. Had he seen what happened? Been witness to it all?
Unlike Tupper, Bump was not demanding they return. It was as if he knew. He knew he'd lost the man he loved like a father. The man who'd saved him from the very streets that now sat at the bottom of the sea.
Ric didn't know what to do. He'd wanted to reach out to touch the boy but feared if he did, the lad would shatter like glass to the decking. So he stood with him in his silence. Looking out at a world forever changed until he was called to help the others lower the skiff.
"White, what the fuck ye think yer doin'?" MacTavish swore.
Ric lowered the glass as the skiff tipped to one side. White was leaning out trying to pull a sword from a scabbard. The last owner of said sword still wore the weapon, however.