Chapter Eighteen
DAMON ENJOYED WATCHING JACK sleep, a little too much. So much fury in such a small bundle, but not when her eyes were closed. But he knew she wouldn’t like his taking advantage of her slumber, even innocently, so he pried himself away from her side before she woke.
The morning sun blinded him for a moment when he left his cabin and locked the door. He took the two guards that he’d stationed outside his quarters with him as a precaution. He wished he could trust his own crew, but he couldn’t yet. These two new crewmen at least appeared to be following his orders, but nothing had yet occurred to test their loyalty. Nor would it, he vowed, until he was ready.
He headed down the stairs to the lower deck. Two of the three cabins located there were occupied, and the new cook had demanded yet another cabin for his personal culinary supplies. Damon grabbed the key from the wall and opened the first door to his left. Mortimer had been too generous. He hadn’t restrained these two, was giving them the freedom of his cabin, if not the ship. Which probably wasn’t a good idea, considering how big one of the men was.
Damon leaned against the doorframe, a pistol in his hand, the two guards behind him, also armed. He should have paid Jack’s hirelings a visit yesterday before he’d been wounded. He wasn’t exactly going to strike fear into either of them today with a bandage wrapped around his torso, not that he cared to go that route.
The younger of the two, the bigger one, was quite injured, his face bruised and swollen. Damon imagined the rest of him hadn’t fared much better. It was too bad it had taken so long to knock him out. Damon should probably send the pirate’s doctor in to check on both of them, if Mortimer hadn’t already seen to that, not that the pirate sawbones was anything close to a real doctor. Actually, the man might make matters worse. Not for the first time, Damon wished that Dr. Caruthers, whom he had obtained for Andrew, hadn’t abandoned them as soon as they’d reached London.
The larger man who had chaperoned Jacqueline was sitting on the edge of the narrow bed, half bent over, an arm protectively about his middle, and he didn’t change his position when the door opened. His friend had pulled a chair over to the bedside next to him. This fellow, who looked older and was rather portly, was a little too well dressed for destitute gentry, but Damon supposed even poor ones would want to keep up appearances.
Both men were staring at Damon, not wary, not bothering to hide their antipathy for him. Damon supposed he wouldn’t either if the situation were reversed. But then the younger man suddenly pushed off the bed and lunged at Damon.
“Where’s Jack? If you’ve hurt her—!”
Damon cocked his pistol, a loud sound between them that stopped the young man’s hand from reaching for his throat. “You’re injured enough,” Damon warned the man coldly. “Do you really want to make it worse?”
“Answer me?! You’ll get off one shot but I’ll still snap your neck before your guards get off theirs.”
“You can try, but there’s no reason for anyone here to die. Sit back down and you’ll have your answer. I’ve already gotten mine. She tried to convince me you’re not her brother, but you have the same temper. You’re obviously a Malory.”
“I’m not,” the younger man denied sharply, but he backed up and sat down again carefully. “How is she?”
“Fine, and the least of your worries.”
Damon’s assurance only relaxed the man a little. His glare and antipathy remained potent. His risking his life merely to find out how Jack was faring convinced Damon that both Malorys were lying to him. This one might not be her brother since there was no remarkable family resemblance, but he did strongly resemble Anthony Malory, so he was sure they were somehow related. But for the moment Damon could play along with their denials to humor his illustrious prisoner.
“You won the toss for the bed?” he said to the younger one, who was sitting on it.
“We’ll be taking turns.”
“I confess I didn’t plan on capturing you, so there are no spare cots aboard, but there might be extra hammocks. I’ll have one brought round if there are, and some books to help you pass the time.”
“We don’t want any favors from you,” the younger man snarled back at him.
“A little too late for that, when I asked my first mate to give up his cabin for you. He wasn’t at all pleased about it, so other accommodations can be arranged if you’d prefer, though I doubt you’ll like sleeping with the livestock, which would of course require some chains, too, since we can’t have you doing damage down there. You might have noticed you aren’t restrained in here?”
“Appreciate it,” the other man said. “ ’Deed I do. But I insist you return us to London.”
“My friend speaks for himself. I’m staying right here as long as Jack is here.”
“You both are, but restrained or unrestrained is the question. Did you miss that it was a question?”
“If you think I’m asking for bloody chains, I’m not.”
“Excellent,” Damon replied. “I agree that wouldn’t be a pleasant way to spend the next month. All that is required to keep these accommodations is that you don’t try to vacate them. If you can restrain yourselves, then you won’t be restrained—no pun intended. Now then, it’s time for you to tell me who you are.”
“Who did Jack say I am?”
Damon laughed at the cautious reply. The man was making it hard for Damon to humor him with answers like that. But he didn’t need confirmation when neither of these two would come to further harm on his ship.
“I’d still like an actual name, but Jeremy will do if you’re hesitant to give one. She says you look like her older brother. Do you?”
“From a distance, I suppose I do. That name is fine, if you have to call me anything.”
“And you?” Damon asked the other.
“Lord Percival—”
“Percy talks too much,” Jeremy interrupted in a warning tone.
“So a couple of destitute lords, after all?”
“Eh?” Percival said quite indignantly.
“We’re not all rich like the Malorys,” Jeremy said quickly.
Before Damon could reply, the man elbowing his way past the guards poked his head in the cabin, then complained bitterly, “That’s the toff who nearly broke me jaw. Why’s ’e being treated so royally when ’e ought to be in chains down in the ’old, eh?”
Damon walked the intruder backward by not giving him any choice but to move or get knocked over. “Did I ask for your opinion?”
“No, but—”
“Tolerated but silent, that was the deal. Stay out of my way or you will find out just how unnecessary you are to the completion of this mission.”
“That goes both ways—Captain,” the man sneered before he scurried up the stairs.
Damon closed his eyes for a moment. It was telling by the pirate’s answer that he was confident he and his cutthroat friends still held the upper hand. Damon couldn’t protect Jack if he gave in to his rage and failed to rid his ship of its infestation. He turned back to the open door, but his eyes passed over the two guards. One looked indignant on his behalf, the other looked uneasy. It was still too soon to try. And considering what had just happened, the key to this room probably shouldn’t be left where anyone could grab it.
“Trouble with your pirates, Captain?” Jeremy asked, nodding toward the bandage on Damon’s side.
A logical assumption after what the hostages had just overheard. “No, that’s Jack’s handiwork. Quite the hellcat she is.”
“Did you hurt her?” Jeremy tried to get up again.
“Be easy, man, I told you she’s fine. And you mistake the situation. She’s very precious cargo. She won’t be hurt no matter how many times she tries to kill me.”
“Then we’ll hope she has better luck next time,” Jeremy sneered.
“I’m sure you will.”
“You mentioned a month,” Jeremy said next. “Where are you sailing to?”
“Warmer waters.”
“A whole month at sea?” Percival said, looking appalled.
“You could work your way across, if you want exercise to alleviate the boredom. Although you”—Damon paused to stare at Jeremy for a moment—“maybe not. It took quite a few men to take you down. Reminds me of Jack’s father.”
“You still think I’m somehow related?”
“You could be, even though you don’t look like her or her father.”
“There’s a reason—” Percy stopped talking before Jeremy could kick his chair over.
Damon raised a black brow. “Maybe you and I should have a talk?” he suggested to Percival. “Would you like a spot of fresh air?”
“Leave him be!” Jeremy snarled. “He’s not used to pirates.”
“But you are?”
“I want to see Jack. I need assurances that she’s all right.”
“Perhaps another time. For now, you’ll have to take my word for it.”
“I will need the exercise. You can’t keep me locked in here for a whole bloody month.”
“Of course I can. However, I’ll consider the request after you’ve recovered sufficiently. But you’ll need to bargain for it.”
“With?”
“With a promise of no trouble, and no attempt to rescue your employer, relative, or whoever she is to you. And you won’t be let out together. One at a time or neither of you. By the way, I’m not a pirate.”
Jeremy snorted. “If you look like one and act like one, then you are one.”
“Really? Then that would make you Jack’s brother, wouldn’t it, considering you look like him and are certainly acting like him?”
“Point taken. So not all spades are spades.” Jeremy then guessed, “But I’ll wager you’re Bastard. Warmer waters as in the Caribbean? You might as well fess up to it.”
“That I’m a bastard or that it’s the name Jack picked for me from our previous voyage together? I put up with it from her . . . well, I put up with most things from her.” But then in a darker tone Damon added, “I won’t put up with it from you. You can call me Reeves or Captain Reeves, take your pick.”
“Cap’n!” someone yelled from the top of the stairs. “You’re needed topside before this argument comes to blows!”
Damon quickly closed and locked the door on the hostages. His nervous guard drew his pistol and headed up the stairs cautiously.
The other man, Paul Jensen, put a hand on Damon’s arm. “You have an unusual crew, Captain. I’ve noticed they seem to only behave while you’re on deck. They’re a rowdy bunch, otherwise.”
“When I hired you, Mr. Jensen, I warned there might be problems and asked if you were prepared to deal with them.”
“And I am, sir. But are they your men or not? I’ve got your back, but I need to know who I’m guarding it from.”
Damon smiled. “Thank you, and no, half of them are not mine. You’ve probably already guessed which half. We’ll discuss this further, but in the meantime, I need to make sure none of the real sailors aboard get hurt.”