“What exactly will you explain to them?” Cooper said. “That you’ve captured one infamous pirate captain—or two?”
The rowboat was ready. Overhead, sails were rippling, tugging at masts, and the Diana lurched like a dog at a leash.
“It’s time,” Cooper said. “Put Blane over and we’ll leave him for His Majesty’s friends.”
“What about the reward money?” Emory said. “You could—”
“We’ve got Blane’s ship, and that’s reward enough for us.”
Blane, secured by ropes and burdened by chains—Abe had found the chains they’d broken off the Africans and used them to make him doubly secured—was dragged to the side and lowered over, like so much cargo. At the bottom of the boat he thrashed against his bindings, which caused the little boat to rock until ocean water sloshed over the sides.
“I curse you, Marjory Cooper!” he shouted at her. “With all my blood and spit I curse you!”
“No less than I expected, love!” she hollered back at him. Then she turned to the surgeon one more time. “Mr. Emory, your turn. You can explain to the navy all you want.”
“Pardon me?”
“I’m sick of you. You want to talk to the navy so badly, you go with Blane and talk to them. Collect the reward money yourself if you want it. Unless you’d rather stay here?”
The surgeon smiled wryly. “Aye, sir. I mean, no. That is—as you wish, as always.”
Without further argument, he took hold of the line that had been used to lower Blane. Then he turned to Jill, who was leaning on the nearby shrouds, watching the proceedings like a regular sailor.
“Miss Jill? How’s your arm? Is it hot to the touch?”
Jill checked the stitched-up wound on her left arm. It was healing, pink flesh bound up with dark threads. It itched and was tender when she touched it, but it wasn’t hot, it didn’t hurt.
“No,” she said. “It’s all right, I think. Thank you.”
“Good. And—I meant what I said. If you want to come with me, I can get you a pardon and take you away from here. Take you back to wherever you came from.”
But he couldn’t. He wouldn’t understand the explanation. More so, because there was more than that reason not to go with him. He couldn’t take her home. And she didn’t want to leave Captain Cooper and Henry and the rest to go with him.
“Thank you, but no,” she said. “I’ll be all right here.”
Emory nodded to her, then went over the side. When he reached the rowboat, Tennant cut it loose from the Diana. By then, the schooner was already under sail. Canvas filled with wind on both ships. Within moments, sailing side by side, a tiny fleet of their own, they left the rowboat behind.
More explosions boomed; more cannon fire from the Ivy. This time, water splashed nearby—they were finding the range.
Cooper and her crew, and Abe and his, watched as the navy ship sent out launches of its own after the rowboat that had been set adrift, until they were too far away and the boats were no more than specks. The Ivy stopped firing, and seemed more interested in what had been left behind.
“Best of luck to them,” Cooper said lightly. The air seemed brighter now that Blane was gone.
Jill sat down on the deck, back to the gunwale on the port side, watching it all with a sense of calm, of satisfaction that was strange to her. She was exhausted. She’d won, she supposed. She may not have struck down Blane, she may not have fenced brilliantly with dazzling skill. Nevertheless, she felt like she’d won. She should be happy. All was right with the world, which at the moment was entirely encompassed by this little ship, her crew, and her captain.
But she still didn’t know how to get home.
A shadow fell across her; Henry stood over her, scowling, arms crossed.
“That was bloody stupid,” he said. “Bloodiest stupid thing I ever saw. You should have run him through. Killed him dead. It’s what he deserved, an’ he’d a done the same to you without thinking.”
Maybe that was the sense of calm that had settled heavily into her limbs, making her blood flow thickly, warmly: relief that she was alive. She’d survived. She’d never felt so relieved after a fencing bout—those were just for points, after all. This was brilliant.
Not that she ever wanted to fight for her life again. She’d be happy enough to go back to the strip and just have fun. After today, competitive fencing couldn’t be anything but fun.
She smiled up at Henry, which must have infuriated him. “It’s okay. It’s all okay. I did exactly the right thing.”
“You’re loony is what. Heat’s got to you.” He slumped to the deck beside her and studied her. “You could have been killed, Jill. Then what would I have done?”