Chapter Nineteen

Eagan came up behind Hubert, his blade at his throat. The wiry man seemed to go limp, barely standing with fear buckling his legs. "Yer name is Hubert," Eagan said.

"Aye." The man squeezed his eyes shut.

"How did ye find yerself on the Bourreau ?"

"I…I followed a line of men signing up at a dock in Dublin. Had no money or food, and both were promised."

Eagan heard the slight lilt of the Irish accent. "Ye've lived elsewhere."

"France, England, Ireland, the northern isle of Scotland, too, wherever I could find work."

Eagan met Tessa's gaze over the man's head. To trust or not to trust. "What say ye, Tessa?"

Tessa scrutinized the frightened man. "I don't think Hubert has any loyalty to Jandeau," she said.

"I don't," Hubert blurted out. "I can be loyal to the lady, though, and to you, milord."

Eagan rolled his eyes. The man would pledge his soul to keep his life. Eagan lowered his mouth to the man's ear. "See that ye do, or I'll be doing more to ye than cutting off yer wee jack."

He waited for Hubert to nod and lowered his mattucashlass, resheathing it along his ribs. "Go stand over there and stay quiet," Eagan said, pointing to the corner where he'd hidden in the shadows. When Hubert scurried off, Eagan met Tessa at the bars. Her breathing seemed ragged like she was enforcing even inhales and exhales.

"I found some more bread above, left in the sleeping quarters," Eagan said. "Brought it down with pouches of weak ale for them."

"We were so relieved when we saw him," Charlotte whispered, her gaze continually going to the hatch entrance as if she imagined a horde of raping pirates barreling down. She returned to Bann, mopping his face with a damp rag to wash some of the vomit off.

"Other than the nausea, they seem to be well enough physically," Eagan said, coming closer to Tessa so he could whisper. "Not sure how long they'll have nightmares, though."

"I thought the worst things that could befall children were in cities. They aren't safe even on a remote isle." Tessa shuddered, his hands on her shoulders. "Because of men like…my father."

"There are people everywhere who take advantage of the weak and young." Eagan pulled her against him and felt her arms wrap under his, holding him to her.

"I should have stopped him somehow," Tessa said, her voice muffled. "I went along with him because he said he'd order his men to leave them alone."

"Ye had no choice." Eagan rested his chin on the top of her soft hair. He could imagine holding her to him in the clearing on Wolf Isle, surrounded by nature and peace. He could imagine staying there with her forever.

"When can we get off?" Bann asked, his little voice weak.

Tessa pulled back, and Eagan turned to make sure Hubert's little mouse eyes were still in the dark corner. The man crouched, his arms wrapped around his knees. "Hubert, come here."

The man stood, coming timidly. "Sneak some more food for the children," Eagan said, "and be prepared to help us leave the ship. I'll leave it up to ye to make it to our rowboat."

"Aye, thank ye, sir. I'll swim to it if I have to." He rubbed his nose aggressively like it itched.

"Don't eat the stew," Tessa said. "'Tis been…adjusted."

Hubert was staring wide-eyed at Bann. "He's sick again."

Charlotte slid her hand up the boy's forehead, her worried glance turning toward Tessa. "He feels hot."

"Oh, mon Dieu," Tessa murmured, rushing to the bars. "A fever."

…

"The storm is calming," Tessa said across the table from her father. After Eagan had thoroughly explained to Hubert what would happen to him if he betrayed them, she'd gone back to her cabin and the crewman went foraging for more bread for the children. Eagan stayed below to guard them. They'd all spent the day waiting for the storm to move on.

Jandeau was more interested in the charts spread across the table than her even though he'd called her to his cabin. Exotic treasures surrounded them in the room twice the size of hers. Carved masks out of wood, golden figures, silken curtains, and velvet throws.

Her gaze fell on the dark portholes. "Will we sail soon?"

"I'm sending some men to the isle to gather more fresh water and game just before dawn," he said. He placed a mark down south on the map. "Then we will sail."

"To Portugal," she said. To sell Charlotte, Bann, and Grace. It took Tessa's training of hiding her true emotions at court to keep her pleasant mask in place. Under it, her stomach roiled in disgust and horror. He nodded, using a straight edge to mark a path through the sea.

How could she have longed for her father's return? Eagan and his brothers, even Grissell, had warned her that the man they called Jandeau was the devil. She hadn't wanted to believe it. Would her mother have confessed his vileness to her eventually or had she not known? Tessa felt the rough edge of the crushed locket scratch against her skin, but refused to take it off.

How will you bring him profit? Grissell's question sent a chill crackling up Tessa's back and over her shoulders until she couldn't push back the shiver.

"You won't feel the cold in the Caribbean," the captain said, the captain named Jandeau. She couldn't think of him as her father without ripples of nausea. He raised his gaze to Tessa, studying her as if he were trying to slice her open to reveal her thoughts and secrets.

"Pardon, Father," she said, realizing she hadn't kept her mask of comfort and hope in place. "The storm has chilled me."

His black eyes narrowed. "Pierre said you were down in the galley this morn."

Merde . Had the cook told Jandeau she'd asked about children on board? If she lied now, the captain would see straight through it into her tormented heart.

Tessa set her napkin on top of her knife beside her plate and sat up even straighter. Meeting her father's gaze, she took a full breath. "I overheard two men outside the hatch in my ceiling talking of children on board the ship. It concerned me. Hubert refused to say anything except that I had heard wrong. I thought I'd trick the cook into speaking about children since he looked as unwell as I felt. He did not, and I left. Hubert took me back to my cabin." Was the explanation too long? Too many details could come across as a lie.

Jandeau's gaze never wavered, his black eyes like bottomless holes. After a long moment, his mouth twitched, and he took a drink of his wine. "Claudette, there are all levels of people. Some aristocrats with fine breeding and gold, and others are boorish and crude. Some are created to be waited upon and others are created to labor." He set his goblet back on the white tablecloth. "You, daughter, were created to survive and deserve to be obeyed by those less able to lead."

She tried to follow his philosophy about a natural hierarchy, but images of people at court kept flashing through her mind. How she and her mother had been treated somewhere between aristocracy and common servants. How undeserving courtiers lounged while others suffered right under their noses.

"I found you," he continued, "in a pest-infested hole, but you deserve to live in finery and comfort." His arm went out to the riches in the room.

He seemed to wait for her to say something, so her mouth opened. "This is a well-appointed room."

"Oui. I thought so when I took it from the Spanish captain. I took possession of everything onboard with it, including his cargo headed for a new life in service. They are no longer aboard."

"Were there children?"

His lips cut into a frown. "Some people are made to labor. I kept them alive and took them to a port to help them find positions."

Was he truly mad or merely trying to convince her that his actions were honorable? Tessa wasn't sure which she preferred. A skewed philosophy or madness? Madness could pass to the child, so she deeply hoped he'd just been tainted by his rearing and life.

She wet her dry lips and tried to keep the horror off her face. Drawing on what she'd learned from her mother while they dodged obstacles and personalities at court, Tessa gave a small nod.

His mouth relaxed. "In the future, remind yourself of this discussion so you don't bother my crew with tiresome questions." His voice had hardened, making Tessa's muscles tighten as if they anticipated an attack. He leaned slightly forward over the table. "Is that clear, Claudette?"

She nodded, but her gaze froze on one of the small portholes opposite her. Eagan's face peered inside, his gaze focusing on her and then on her viperous father. Which did he desire more? Saving her or killing Jandeau?

"I would hear you say it, daughter."

"Pardon?" She blinked, dragging her gaze back to his black eyes shadowed even more by the heavy pinch of his brows.

Jandeau spun in his chair to look at the windows filled only with the vacant dark of night and thick dots of rain.

"Do not talk to any of my crew unless they ask you a question. I would not have them grow fond of you and try to get under your skirts. I'd cut them to pieces, but I don't have time to find new crew. Again."

She could only manage shallow breaths. "I understand not to…bother your crew about any of your passengers in the future."

He picked his quill back up. "Good, because while on board my ship, you're one of my crew, Claudette. If you disobey me…" His gaze grabbed hold of hers until she felt strangled by it. "…I will tie you naked to a mast for a day and night."

Her breath caught. She couldn't move.

"My men know better than to fok you, but they will surely touch and watch and likely pleasure themselves before you, maybe even with one of our impure passengers if we pick one up."

Everything inside Tessa squeezed in terror, her nails digging into the padded arms of the chair.

"You might be my daughter," Jandeau said, "but you are not above my law."

…

The storm had abated enough that Tessa could hear the crew clomping around on the deck above. She hadn't heard nor seen Eagan since he'd spied on her with Jandeau. She'd once again opened the small, barred hatch in the center of the room that let in air. She heard a man shouting orders in English, his accent thick.

He must be her father's second in command. Tessa strained her ears for Hubert's voice but hadn't heard nor seen him after he brought her back to her cabin.

Had Hubert gone to her father, betraying them all? Tessa's stomach clenched at the thought of armed men climbing down into the prisoner's hold to slaughter Eagan in that dank, dark hole, the children screaming. Everything inside her constricted, and she clutched the locket.

"Breathe, Tess," she said aloud, and felt Sia push her head against her leg. She bent to pick up the cat, cuddling her and letting her small warm body dissolve the horrid thought. She'd been so relieved, like Charlotte, when she'd realized the man in her room was Eagan. But now it was as if part of her were wandering the ship without protection. Tessa was certain her mind would break if she were forced to watch Eagan's torture.

Tap. Tap.

Tessa jumped, pivoting toward the door while clutching Sia.

Tap. Tap.

Sia wiggled out of her arms, and Tessa went to the door, flattening her palm there. "Yes?"

A key turned in the iron lock, and she stepped to the side as the door swung inward. Hubert hurried inside, closing the door behind him. Dieu merci.

He leaned toward her ear, slipping the key he'd just used into her hand. "The dinghy your man brought hasn't been noticed on the port side. 'Tis still there." His brow furrowed. "It doesn't look like 'tis made to hold six people."

"Two are small children," she said. "If you can lower another dinghy or a larger one without getting—"

"Jandeau will notice that for sure. And I'll lose my hands, my tongue, my eyes, my—"

"Then don't." She exhaled a full breath. "We will make do with Eagan's rowboat." She checked the porthole again, and it was still dark. "We must escape when they can't see us."

"Aye." He nodded vigorously.

She pocketed the key. "Did you take bread below?"

Gong!

The bell made Hubert jump, his face losing its color. He closed his eyes for a second. "The men will be eating, so we should go soon while they're busy."

"Busy falling asleep or getting sick."

Hubert blinked, his brow furrowing. "Asleep or sick?"

The clomping of many boots pounded overhead, and the men descended toward the galley at the end of her corridor. Tessa jammed the key in the lock and sent up a prayer of gratitude that the tumblers turned, locking her in. A cacophony of curses and low jests penetrated her door as a line queued up right outside her cabin.

The latch of her door was tried several times as if to see if she were locked up tight. Were they the ones who would touch her if she were tied naked to the mast? A shiver racked her body, and she backed all the way up to the far wall. She had no doubt her father would follow through on his threat if he discovered her disloyalty.

"How will they fall asleep or get sick?" Hubert asked again.

"The stew. If the men eat the stew down quickly and combine it in their guts with spirits, the effects should come on them within the half hour."

Hubert rubbed his chin, a frown taking over his whole face. "The stew."

"Mon Dieu. Hubert." She inhaled, her eyes widening. "Did you eat the stew after I said not to?"

He shook his head as if trying to rid water from his ears. "It tasted fine."

"Merde. I put herbs in Pierre's stew when we visited yesterday."

"I didn't see you do it." His words were slurry. Of course they were. Tessa had added enough sleeping herbs for three caldrons of stew. He stuck a finger in his ear and wiggled it as if he couldn't hear well. "I thought Pierre was too close."

Thump ! She jumped at the thud overhead. One of the crewmen falling into a stupor?

"I think…I better lay meself down," Hubert said.

Meow. Hiss! Sia leapt from the bed to the bookshelves as Hubert dropped forward, face down onto her bed.

"Non, non, non, non, nonnnn," Tessa dragged out, hands to her cheeks. She poured water on a rag and tried to wake Hubert by rubbing his face. "Wake up," she whispered. "You'll be found in my bed and then Jandeau will hack you to pieces."

Hubert did not move.