My Fallen Angel by Pamela Britton

Author:Pamela Britton
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9780062034670
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2000-11-20T23:00:00+00:00

Smoke, its rank sulfuric smell emanating from the deck below, hung over the Swan like the lid of a coffin. The battle-scarred ship fluttered upon the water, a wounded bird struggling to stay afloat. The Revenger was so close now Garrick could see men scurrying about its deck like ants spilled from a bottle, many of them clasping weapons. He clenched his own cutlass and glanced at his men.

Calico stood alongside him, rivulets of sweat born of fear and anxiety making their way down his face. His eyes moved beyond him to the tense faces of his men. All were staring at the approaching ship, the deck unnaturally quiet; only the sighs of the ship and the rhythmic slap of the ocean could be heard over the rustle of the giant sails hanging in tatters above their heads.

Soon now, Garrick thought. Soon, they would be boarded. He looked back at the Revenger, then glanced up to the black and white skull and crossbones waving from its mainmast, a vivid reminder of the skill and cunning of his enemy.

They had tried to outrun the pirate ship for over two hours, but the Swan had been like a minnow with a shark chasing at its fins. Every move Garrick tried had been instantly countered with a skill Garrick had rarely witnessed. Lucien St. Aubyn. Obviously the duke knew how to sail a ship as well as he wielded a gun.

Garrick slapped his hand on the rail in frustration, furious at the fates which would test him in such a way, thus putting in danger a woman with more courage than a good portion of his crew. He was an angel, for God’s sake, surely there must be something he could do! Unfortunately, his only option was to hope like hell he could survive the coming battle.

“Won’t be long now,” Calico grumbled.

Garrick nodded.

“John’s hoistin’ the white flag as we speak.” Calico continued, brow furrowed. “Do ya think they’ll fall for it, Cap’n?”

“It’s worked before,” Garrick grunted. “And the Swan looks battered enough they might believe we’ll surrender. ‘Tis worth a try.”

“At least the women and the boy are hidden,” Calico mumbled.

The corner of Garrick’s mouth tilted, not into a smile. He was too tired, too frustrated to attempt that. It was more of a smirk as he remembered Lucy’s cursing when he firmly, yet gently shoved her beneath his bed, Beth and Tom piled in next to her. She had ranted and raved when he’d nailed the boards into place, her fury with him clear in the banging of her fists against the thick wood. Livid was a more apt description. She hadn’t wanted to hide. She had wanted to help, and God help him, he had wanted to let her, but he needed Lucy to protect the boy. He only hoped it never came to that.

“She’s a bonnie one, Cap’n,” Calico said, seeming to read his mind.

“Aye, Calico, she is.” Garrick’s hand clenched around his cutlass so tightly he felt the leather hilt bite into his flesh.

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