Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

Jack

Jack walked back down the hall to his room to find Kate curled on his bed, already asleep.

He stopped in the doorway, marveling at the way her hair spilled over the side of the mattress, her arms tucked against her chest.

She looked soft and peaceful, and he found himself walking to the edge of the bed and gently brushing her hair away from her face.

He knew that James was going to marry Anna. The man had barely let her go since they'd rescued the two women.

But he also knew that he was marrying Kate.

If she'd have him…

That made him smile as he grabbed a blanket and pulled it up her body.

Lord, the woman knew how to argue. She'd unarmed two grown men, men used to fighting, in less than a half hour.

He was in a very large amount of trouble.

But long after he would have grown bored with the domestic life of a lord, Kate was going to keep it interesting.

And both her comments, the first about pissing off his father by creating an heir, and the other, living his own life independent of his father, they both touched something deep. The first was satisfying but the second, it was freeing.

He ought to have thought of it sooner.

"Kate," he whispered giving her shoulder a small shake.

Her eyes opened into slits. "What?"

"Push over."

She scooted into the bunk and lifted the corner of the blanket he'd just used to cover her, inviting him in.

He kicked off his boots and did just that. Snuggling her against his body, she covered him with the blanket, her arm staying across his chest.

She rested her head on his chest as she sighed out her contentment, relaxing back into sleep.

But he lay there for some time, enjoying the feel of her. Enjoying the satisfaction of choosing his own path, rather than worrying about how he might thwart his father, a man already in the grave.

Why had he not realized that sooner? That in being free from his father, he had a chance to be happy, or at the very least, content.

He grazed a kiss onto her forehead as he closed his eyes.

It had been a long day, and now, with both Kate and Anna tucked safely on Fulton's boat, now was the time for a bit of sleep.

Jack remembered little else until the sound of feet above woke him.

People were running.

Not just one man, several, the thuds of their boots echoing in his quarters.

And then he heard the yelling.

Orders being barked, other men screaming.

From somewhere in the distance, he caught the cry for help, echoing through the early dawn.

He could hear the pitch of fear in the male voice.

He thrust off the blanket, untangling himself from Kate. She woke as well, her head lifting with a sleepy stare.

The sight of her stopped him for a moment.

If she looked beautiful last night bathed in candlelight, now, with the first rays of dawn, she was stunning, her grey eyes bluer, her skin soft and pink and so damn touchable.

He leaned over and kissed her cheek. "There's trouble. I need to go."

"Trouble?" she asked, her confusion evident. He filed "not a morning person" into his list of things he knew of Kate even as he pulled on his boots.

"Yelling. Running. I've got to go check. You stay here." He pushed off the bed and started for the door. "If there's trouble, get yourself and your sister to a dinghy. Take water for drinking and hardtack to eat."

She pushed up to half sitting, her confusion evident but he didn't have time to explain or much explanation to give.

Instead, he gave her one last look before he raced up the ladder to the deck above.

What was wrong became immediately apparent.

They'd rendezvoused with James's ship and the vessel…it was on fire.

Men were in dinghies, others in the water, all abandoning the sinking ship.

For a moment, he just stared.

"Jack!" Fulton called. "Can you lead a party to rescue men from the water?"

"On it!" he yelled back. "What the fuck happened?"

"Attacked," he answered back as he strode off the give more orders. "Where is Bancroft?"

"Anna is struggling," he answered with a grimace.

Fulton nodded. He had a wife and family and well knew that a woman's care came first in a time like this. "Take over his captain duties."

Jack grabbed another sailor and set off in a dinghy. There was no saving the boat, only cargo and crew, and most of Fulton's crew set themselves to doing just that.

The few that remained on deck and didn't aid the rescue, prepared for attack. They all knew who had fired on James's ship. Guilt pierced through him. It was the king he'd been chasing.

And he'd circle back at any moment.

They were vulnerable sitting like this. Every man worked tirelessly for the next two hours.

No one more than Jack. This had been his plan, his attempt to settle this before retirement, and his rushed choices had caused so much damage…

When Jack finally returned to the deck, he found Kate working alongside the rest of the men, racking cannonballs.

He stopped for a moment, remembering her words about wishing to stay and wanting to fight. She'd meant them…

And somehow that calmed him. She was a woman who said what she meant and that mattered.

It added weight to her words.

He wondered, what she would think of his responsibility in this situation.

Crossing over the deck, he stopped in front of her.

She placed her last ball in the rack and straightened. "Are you going to lecture me?"

"About?"

"I don't know. Being on deck. Helping the men."

"Nope. Every person counts right now, and besides, you're an independent woman."

Her brows lifted as a ghost of a smile touched her lips. "What is it then?"

"I wanted to ask your opinion."

"About?"

"I set up that wine deal to try and catch the king. I've been trying for actual years to locate this man and I could never get close enough to even know what he looked like, who he was."

"Have you made progress?"

"Yes. I know what he looks like, at least."

"Good. But why do you need my opinion?"

"I…" He swallowed. "My choices in my haste to find him have led to all this," he swept his hand wide.

She looked out over the sinking boat, the wounded men leaning up against the rail. "You think you're responsible."

It wasn't a question, but he answered it anyway. "Yes."

"Villains did this."

He couldn't argue with that, and his heart soared with a bit of hope. "But surely I bear some culpability?"

She cocked her head, giving him a long look. "Was he the man you tried to shoot first?"

"Yes. I believe he was."

"Then your actions also brought you far closer to ridding the world of him?"

"Maybe."

She shrugged, dusting off her hands. "Bad men are going to do bad things. You were simply trying to create opportunities out of that truth. Speaking as one of the kidnap victims, I don't blame you. I blame them. It was a move they likely would have made either way, no matter your choices."

Then she turned and started for the hatch. Like she was just part of the crew and she had duties to attend.

Like she hadn't just dropped more truth on him that soothed his very soul.

"She all right?" Fulton asked, stepping up next to him.

"All right?" he shook his head. "She is the earth and I am the moon. Just spinning about her…" He stopped, not sure what he was even saying.

"Christ, you're spouting poetry," Fulton said with a booming laugh. "She's fine. You're in very deep trouble though, my friend."

"Don't I know it."

"Ship!" came a cry from the watchman up the mast.

All eyes began scanning the horizon. "Unfurl the sails!" Fulton boomed. "We move now!"

They were all in trouble. And it was about to get deeper.