Chapter 21

It had been three days since they narrowly escaped the Prince George . Three days, which they had spent charting a new course, steering the battered Ranger in the choppy seas, and finding a secluded cove where they could repair the ship.

Out in the shallow bay, with the warm water caressing her ankles, Avaline sensed Adrian's gaze on her. She had cast stolen glances at him during the day as the crew had emptied the holds of the Ranger , admiring how the slabs of muscle bulged and rippled under his taut skin and wanting to trace a finger along the dark fuzz on his sculpted stomach.

Whenever she let her eyes wander, his gaze was waiting for hers, dark, enigmatic, and heated, and each time, the tingling in the pit of her belly spread like the tide through her veins—a powerful, merciless, and unstoppable surge that submerged everything in its path and made her feel hot and feverish.

There was something new in his eyes. A vulnerability, a crack in his armor. He was so strong, confident, and in control, but now, he was exposed, raw, human . Avaline wanted to see more of him, the real him, the man buried under his ruthless exterior, suffocating in his quest for revenge.

She kept her face tilted down, pretending to look for fish in the clear water, but she peeked up through her lashes. Towering over Lieutenant Barley with an air of confidence, he stood with his sturdy legs apart in the soft sand, his knee-length breeches wet and molding to his legs after navigating the water.

Her gaze lowered to the outline between his thighs. A burst of succulent juices filled her mouth as if biting into a ripe peach on a warm summer day.

"Watch your feet, miss." Will winked at her, pulling her back from her distracted thoughts. "Some of these beasts have teeth sharp as sharks."

She giggled at his jest—the colorful fishes they had spotted were tiny and harmless, but the way Will eyed her bare legs was a different kind of tease.

"Scott!" Lieutenant Barley barked. Avaline shielded her eyes from the setting sun with her hand now that she had an excellent reason to squint toward the shore. "Change of plans. You're on careening duty. Make haste."

"Aye, lieutenant," Will confirmed. "What about ensuring Miss Hawthorn's safety?"

"Captain Hainsworth will see to that." Lieutenant Barley turned to Avaline. "Miss Hawthorn, please stay where the captain can keep an eye on you. This island has more hiding places than the ship."

A chill ran down the length of her back when Morris's evil eyes flashed before her, and when Will left, she turned to Elias. "It is getting late. Let us find a bite. It looks like the wild boar is ready. The first watch is already feasting."

Under the canopy, Avaline picked up a platter from Freddie for herself and Elias, and they sat down on a pair of crates by the fire, mingling with the sailors who were not on duty. The heat from the sun still lingered in the sand, caressing her feet, and the fire crackled in the twilight, casting dancing shadows on their faces. The aroma of the wild boar searing over the flames infused with the salty breeze and the charred smell of the smoke, teasing her senses and making her mouth water.

Freddie sliced succulent chunks from the unfortunate pig, his wide grin radiating delight. "Pork loin, as fresh as it gets."

"Mmm," Avaline moaned as she sank her teeth into the tender meat. The rich flavor burst on her tongue, and she savored every morsel. "Heavenly."

Elias dug into the meal like a wild animal, barely chewing before swallowing, wiping his fingers on his lips. Then he belched twice, the latter so raucous it provoked a boisterous laughter from him.

"Elias," Avaline scolded mildly. "Manners, please."

"Sorry. My mum used to say the same thing," Elias said, but then he dropped his gaze to the ground as if he regretted letting the words slip from his lips.

"I'm sure she did," Avaline said as if that was the most natural thing to have mentioned. "She must have been a wonderful person. Do you want to tell me about her?"

He froze, eyes staring at the sandy ground before him.

What memories did he see? What sorrows did he hide?

He chewed at his lips, then shrugged. "She always sang when she cooked. She made heavenly stews, the absolute best."

Avaline offered him a gentle smile, encouraging him to continue but being careful not to push him too hard.

"She had damn beautiful hair, like yours, but fairer. And she always smiled and laughed. Except…" He trailed off, his voice fading into silence.

Avaline stretched out her hand, squeezing his slumped shoulder. "You don't have to tell me if it makes you uncomfortable, Elias."

"He killed her," he blurted, his lips quivering and eyes filling with tears. "He had lost his job, and he was drunk. He said it was my fault, that I was a useless barnacle. She tried to protect me, but he pushed her out of the way, and she fell and hit her head on the stove."

Avaline's chest tightened. "Oh, Elias, I'm so sorry! That must have been absolutely dreadful." She fought back the tears gathering behind her eyelids. Not only had he seen his stepfather kill his mother in front of him, but he also blamed himself for it. A fierce shiver drew down her back. "It wasn't your fault. You are a child, and he is an adult."

Elias nodded but said nothing. She wrapped her hands around him as tight as an eleven-year-old with a sling would let her.

"You can call me Avaline," she said softly after a long while.

Elias's head jerked up. "Avaline? That name is new to me, but I find it bloody lovely!"

She bestowed him a warm smile. "Lovely will suffice. It is my great-grandmother's name. She was French. What was your mother's name?"

"Mary-Alice."

"That is such a beautiful name," Avaline said.

Avaline stroked her hand along Elias's unharmed arm, struggling not to let her anger shine through her voice when she responded to his stories about his mother. This poor, poor boy and what he had suffered! At least Adrian had lifted him out of his rut and given him another chance.

She recalled her furious accusation against Adrian for bringing the boy on board what she had scorned as a pirate ship. She closed her eyes, berating herself for her harsh judgment.

They sat for a long while, watching the fiery tongues lick toward the dark sky, listening to the crackling and hiss of the flames. Avaline shared small stories from Hawthorn Manor until Elias slumped in her embrace, and his platter tumbled into the sand.

"Elias?"

His eyes were closed, and his mouth hung slack. Avaline set aside her platter and lifted Elias onto her lap. He was even more featherlike than she had expected, but her thighs still strained to the limit when she pushed to her feet with the boy in her arms.

She carried him past the blaze toward the cooler thicket and the chirping crickets where the crew had strung hammocks between the palm trees. Stumbling in the dim light, she hit her toe on a root. "Damn!"

"Careful there."

Adrian's husky voice wafted around her, its tendrils sweeping her skin with an intangible caress. He had been scarce since he sent Will away on duty, and he hadn't yet been by the fire to eat.

He stepped out from the shadows, clad only in breeches. His tawny skin glowed, reflecting the hue from the blaze like burnished metal. A thin wisp of fur covered his calves, forearms, and chest, adding to his masculine air. His damp hair framed his face in tousled layers, accentuating his rough-hewn features, and she felt a surge of desire to brush the hair aside so she could behold his full countenance.

"Here, let me take him."

He lifted Elias from her arms, enveloping her in the invigorating scent of sun-kissed skin and salty waters. His fingers brushed against hers, and a sharp spark chased up her arms, pooling like warm liquid in her core and making her shiver. His fingers lingered for a moment, and when she met his eyes, something flashed in the dark depths, and it wasn't the reflection of the flames behind her.

She parted one of the hammocks, and Adrian lowered Elias into it, for a moment exposing his shredded back to the glow from the fire.

Courtesy of your betrothed.

What if Adrian was innocent? What if Lord Francis was the reason for Adrian's suffering, for his family's suffering?

"Avaline," Elias mumbled, tearing her out of the depressing train of thought.

"I'm right here, Elias."

Adrian's eyes lifted to hers, holding a new glow, something more intimate.

"How is he faring?" he asked, his voice rasping in his throat.

"His shoulder will be fine." She paused, sensing his gaze, and cleared her throat. "He told me about his mother. I'm sorry, Adrian. I know you're doing your best. It wasn't right of me to judge you. You saved him."

"You didn't know."

She scoffed. "All the more reason not to judge."

He reached for the shirt he had tossed on a crate, revealing the label in the dancing flames.

HMS Essex.

His gaze was waiting for hers when her eyes flew to his.

"It's not what it looks like."

He pulled his shirt over his head, and she cursed under her breath when she checked out his bulging muscles. When he stuffed his shirt beneath his waistband, her core clenched. "Then what is it?"

"I never attacked the Essex ," he said, holding her gaze as he fastened the rope on his breeches. "I seized an English pirate who had stolen them from the Essex ."

"An English pirate stealing from his own navy? Who does such a wicked thing?"

"Somebody desperate for money."

"A traitor."

He didn't answer, but his tense face and hard eyes betrayed a hint of challenge as if he was waiting for her to put the pieces together. A cold shiver coiled around her shoulders. His silence was deafening, and the air between them filled with tension.

"Did you know about it?" she asked, her words coming out slowly as if she could postpone his answer by taking her time.

"Yes."

The cold shiver spread to clamp an icy claw around her heart. "Like you knew I was on board the Chirton ?"

"Yes."

He had known about her journey, and he had known about the pirate stealing from the navy. He targeted Francis Ashcroft and wanted to ruin him. His revenge was the only thing driving him.

Queasiness twisted in the pit of her belly. "Lord have mercy," she whispered, pinching her forehead with trembling fingers. She dragged in a couple of deep breaths. "It's Lord Francis. Francis is the traitor."

Deep inside, she had already realized, though she clung to shreds of hope for another explanation for the logic, but his quiet confirmation stabbed her heart and shattered all her dreams of a family, children, and a happy future.

She stumbled back, but he caught her arm and led her to a crate deeper into the darkness.

Three days ago, when she had resolved to defy the Prince George , her courage had sprung from the possibility—however uncertain—that Adrian spoke truly and that he had suffered a terrible wrong at Lord Francis's hands.

Now she knew.

The bottomless pain in Adrian's eyes had won her faith. What other force but his need for justice could drive him to forsake everything else in life for so many years?

Crouching before her, he rested his hands on her knees. "I'm sorry you had to find out like this."

"I don't understand. Is Lord Francis a pirate?" Her voice trembled, as did her legs. His warm hands squeezed her gently to reassure her everything was all right.

But it wasn't.

He hadn't just ruined her reputation and prospects of a decent marriage by capturing her; he had also crushed her hopes of a future with her betrothed once he let her go.

"Not directly," he said softly. "Ashcroft orchestrates a plunderous scheme of piracy and profiteering. As governor, he is privy to information about British Navy supplies to the colonies. He employs pirates to raid them and peddles the loot to the French. He is the mastermind behind it. He merely pulls the strings. That's why he has never been caught."

She sucked in a sharp breath, her head spinning. "How do you know all this?"

"I was Ashcroft's captain when he was still in the navy. Already back then, he traded weapons and ammunition from my ship to the French. There were rumors among the officers, but I didn't have enough evidence to confront him. He framed me to divert attention from himself."

"Why?"

"A few months earlier, we were attacked by the French Navy because Ashcroft was drunk on duty and neglected to recognize the warning signs." Adrian filled his lungs, a subtle tremor coursing through his breath. "We lost good men that night and barely made it away. I punished Ashcroft for insubordination, and he retaliated when he got the chance."

"What happened?"

"I was arrested for treason and sent to Newgate. They sentenced me to hang like a traitor, but thanks to Lieutenant Barley, I escaped."

"Good grief!" A storm of thoughts and questions swept through her, but her mind was so numb she struggled to sort them out.

Lord Francis was a traitor, selling English weapons to their enemy.

Why?

Somebody desperate for money.

He was a governor and came from an affluent family. Why would he be desperate for money? Because he was indebted or because of greed? Surely her father would have known if Lord Francis had been obligated?

The idea that greed had driven Lord Francis to ruin Adrian and his family was unbearable.

Greed and cowardice.

"How can I trust you?"

"You can't," he admitted. "But I don't need you to believe me, nor do I have any reason to lie to you."

"You also have no reason to tell me this or to care for me. I'm English. I'm your enemy."

"I haven't cared for you–"

"You saved my life."

A shiver tore through him, quivered into his hands, and reverberated to her. "You may be English, but you're not my enemy. My enemies don't do what you have done for me, Elias, and the rest of the crew. You could have chosen to do nothing when the Prince George attacked us. They would have rescued you and brought you to Barbados and your betrothed, but you decided to take a risk and saved everyone."

He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and she savored the heat of his touch, suddenly feeling cold in the warm evening air. His hand lingered at her ear, his thumb grazing her temple, but when she didn't meet his gaze, he diverted a finger beneath her chin and tilted her head.

"And I don't think you did that only because of Elias."