The Devil's Necklace. Kat Martin

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СКАЧАТЬ one. Sea Witch. We were on a mission for the War Office. Jeffries had access to information that revealed exactly where the ship was headed. He sold that information to the French.”

      “You don’t know that for certain!” She was shocked at the accusation.

      “He was the only man who knew, the only one who could have betrayed us. Sea Witch was captured and sunk, my men killed or died in prison. Only one of them escaped.”

      “Long-boned Ned—and you.”

      “That’s right. The French kept me alive. They thought prison would be worse than dying and they were right. Fortunately, I had friends, people who refused to give up until I was free and they could bring me home. The rest of my men weren’t so lucky.”

      She didn’t say more. She could see the anger seething beneath his surface calm, read the fury in the ice-blue of his eyes. “You must be mistaken about the viscount. I’m sorry about your crew but—”

      He turned on her, halting her words with a frozen glare. “Are you? If you are truly sorry, you will tell me how to find Harmon Jeffries.”

      “I told you, I have no idea where he is.”

      He took her arm, none too gently. “Come, it’s time to go in. Believe it or not, I have work to do, matters more important than entertaining my guest.”

      She ignored the sarcasm dripping from his voice. He was angry that she wouldn’t help him. What little she knew of the viscount would probably be useless, even if she told him. Which she would not. Harmon Jeffries was her father. She had decided to aid him and she wouldn’t alter that decision.

      Nothing could change what she had done or the captain’s contempt for her.

      In a way she couldn’t blame him.

      Six

      A storm blew in. Great waves washed over the bow. The ship pitched and rolled, dropped into huge troughs and climbed up the opposite side. Sheets of water pummeled the decks and washed into the scuppers. The sky was so dark, day and night seemed to meld into one.

      For three long days, the storm raged, tossing the schooner about like a bit of flotsam and forcing Grace to remain in the cabin. Mal de mer had threatened several times, but so far the crackers and beef broth Freddie brought her had kept the illness at bay.

      Dear God, she needed to exercise her limbs and breathe in some clean sea air!

      When a slight break came in the weather, Grace paced the room impatiently, waiting for Captain Sharpe or Angus McShane to come for her, but the hours slipped past and no one appeared. Disgruntled and sick unto death of being confined, she lifted her cloak off the brass hook next to the door and swept it round her shoulders. Surely she could find one of the two men and ask for his escort.

      Though the wind had lessened, Grace discovered an icy breeze still blew across the deck as she climbed the ladder leading up from below and poked her head through the hatch into the open air. The decks themselves were slippery and wet. She had tied her hair back with the scrap of lace, but the stiff breeze whipped long tendrils around her face.

      She stopped the brawny second mate, a man named Willard Cox. “I’m sorry to bother you, Mr. Cox. Have you seen Mr. McShane?”

      “Aye, miss. He’s workin’ below.” His gaze skimmed over her in a way that was slightly too familiar. Except for the scar on his cheek, he wasn’t bad-looking. She thought that he saw himself as a bit of a lady’s man, which she found faintly amusing. “You shouldn’t be up here, miss. You’d best go back to your cabin.”

      Her chin edged up. Who was he to be giving her orders? “Perhaps you have seen Captain Sharpe.”

      “He’s just there, miss, comin’ up the ladder from the hold.”

      She spotted him walking toward her, bearing down on her with a scowl on his face and his jaw clamped tight. At his angry expression, she took an unconscious step backward.

      “Damnation!” he shouted as he approached, and she stepped back again. At the same instant, the ship dipped into a trough, and Grace struggled for balance. Her slipper caught on a coil of rope, and her foot went out from beneath her. She flailed her arms and tipped sideways as a great wave washed over the deck, the water scooping her up and sweeping her away.

      “Grace!” she heard the captain shout. Then the massive wave carried her over the side of the ship into the sea.

      Grace screamed as she hit the freezing water and plunged beneath the surface. Her nose filled with brine, which started to burn her lungs, and it was all she could do not to open her mouth and gasp in a lungful of air. Instead, she held her breath and fought for the surface, but her hair had come unbound and long strands wrapped around her face. The gray skirt seemed to weigh a thousand pounds, and no matter how hard she swam, the surface grew farther away.

      She was going to drown, she realized, and began to kick with all her strength. Unlike most women, she was a very good swimmer, having learned in secret along with her friend, Victoria, when they were away at boarding school. She could see faint light near the top of the water. If only she could reach it.

      But the dress pulled her down, seemed to undo each small gain she made. The air in her lungs began to burn. She couldn’t hold her breath much longer. Dear God, she didn’t want to die! She gave another frantic set of kicks and for an instant her head broke the surface. She caught a breath of air before beginning to sink again. She thought she heard something swimming around in the water beside her, but her air supply was diminishing and she was growing dizzy.

      She fought madly for the surface one final time, but couldn’t quite get her head above the water and the last of her strength began to wane. Something brushed against her. She felt the strength of a man’s hand at her waist, shoving her upward. Grace kicked with all of her strength and together their heads popped out of the sea.

      One of the ship’s cork life rings floated nearby and the captain grabbed it and wrapped her arm around it.

      “Hold on!” he shouted. “We’ve got to hang on until they can reach us!”

      She gasped and sputtered, managed a nod, and hung on with all of her strength. She could see the ship in the distance, one of the wooden dinghies being lowered over the side as the ship came about, trying to stop its forward momentum through the turbulent seas.

      She could see the small boat pulling away from the hull, beginning to head their way, the men rowing with all of their might. It took a while for the dinghy to reach them, plowing through the whitecaps, disappearing into a trough, then reappearing again. The big second mate, Willard Cox, a sailor named Red Tinsley, and the thin sailor, Long-boned Ned, manned the oars.

      They spotted her and the captain clinging to the life ring, and drew the boat up alongside. Working together, the three men hauled Grace into the boat, then reached down for the captain. He sprawled next to her in the bottom of the dinghy, both of them shivering uncontrollably.

      Ned tossed a blanket over them. “We’ll ’ave ye back aboard the ship quick as we can,” he said to her. “Ol’ Angus backed the sails and hove to. He’ll slow ’er down and be waitin’ fer us to catch up ta him.”

      She swallowed and nodded, the fear she had held back beginning to creep over her, clogging her throat with tears. But СКАЧАТЬ