The Infamous Rogue Part 39

Slowly James lifted his burning eyes and trained his weary gaze on William. The lieutenant was positioned beside the door, arms folded across his chest.

James slumped against the wall and gnashed his teeth. The darkness in his soul crippled him. Everything was gone. His brothers...Sophia.

"We're not taking anything away from you, James."

The sage lieutenant had guessed the captain's gloomy thoughts. The man sounded so b.l.o.o.d.y calm, even blase, and that infuriated James even more. He looked daggers at his brother.

"Stop thinking with your heart, James. If Father wasn't pressed into service, would you stil think joining the Royal Navy a poor idea?"

"It's called loyalty," he growled.

"To whom?"

"To Father."

"Father's dead."

James scoffed. "Yes, he is. And his memory is worth s.h.i.+t, I see."

"You son of a b.i.t.c.h." William stepped deeper inside the bedroom. "Do you think you're the only one who loved him? He was my father, too. But Quincy and Edmund are stil fledglings, and I'm not going to see them swing from a noose. Not when I can save them." He gritted, "Father wouldn't want it to end that way."

James turned away from his brother, listless. "I'm going to find the impostors."

"Fine. We'll search for Hagley and his crew first, but then-"

"No." James looked back at his kin, glowering. "After I find the impostors, I'm going to keep the Bonny Meg. You and Eddie and Quincy can rot alongside the Royal Navy."

William rubbed his lips, his chin. "You can't do this, James."

"I can. And I will." He rasped, "The tars are loyal to me. You'll never get your hands on the s.h.i.+p so long as I live."

William crossed the room and slammed his fist into James's cheek. "I don't want to take the s.h.i.+p from you!"

James didn't budge. Blood filled his mouth. He tasted the thick, warm fluid. It filled him, soothed him. At last the stoic lieutenant showed real feeling. And that was enough to pacify the demons raging inside James's skul .

"I want us al to be privateers," he blasted. "I want us all to sail aboard the Bonny Meg!"

James wiped the blood from his swollen lips. "Get your own d.a.m.n s.h.i.+p."

William stepped away from the captain, combing his shaky fingers through his wel - groomed hair. "You would cut us off?"

"I'm not the one cutting you off."

It was like a cutla.s.s carving his innards, the betrayal. He was not the one who had walked away from the brotherhood and the Bonny Meg...and the plantation house.

"You're the one who's walking away," said James darkly. "You and Eddie and Quincy and Sophia."

William frowned. "Are you stil pining after Dawson's daughter?"

He fingered his sore lips. "I'm not pining after her."

"You're still in love with Sophia, admit it."

James slammed his fists against the wall behind him. "I'm not in love with that witch!"

"Then what do you want from her?"

"Revenge."

William regarded him, confused. "What do you mean?"

"I want her to know pain." James gasped for breath. "I want her to feel the same f.u.c.king despair that I had to feel when she walked away from me."

But she would never know such bereavement. She would marry the earl, he thought bitterly. She would be a countess. And he would rot in everlasting h.e.l.l.

"I didn't think you so small, James."

There it was again, that cold and pa.s.sionless point of view. William might be levelheaded, but he was also aloof and indifferent. He suffered nothing, for he felt nothing. It was easy for him to walk away from the Bonny Meg. But it was not so easy for James to forget about the past.

"You have no soul, Will. You can't bleed. You don't even know love."

"Nor do you, it seems," he said quietly, glowering, before he walked out of the room.

James grabbed his head, still woozy with drink. He dismissed his brother's cavil as tedious gibberish and thought about Sophia instead. The witch was victorious. She had won their battle of wil s. He appreciated her ruthlessness; it deserved applause. And so he would offer it. He wasn't small, as William had suggested. He would congratulate her on the triumph.

James vacated the bedchamber. He moved blindly through the pa.s.sageways. He suspected she was in her room, crowing over her achievement, and so he instinctively traveled toward her quarters.

He opened the door without rapping on the wood first.

The blade sliced through the air and pierced the wall beside his head.

Slowly James looked at the hard steel. His bloodred eyes reflected in the luminous metal. He then glared at Sophia. "You missed, sweetheart."

She was wearing a simple white day dress. It was clean and crisp. No hideous jewelry marred her bust or ears. Even her hair was free of restraint and ornamentation, the long, thick locks flowing across her back in luxurious, cocoa brown waves.

The muscles in his midriff stiffened. She looked so d.a.m.n lovely, yet she was so cold and unsightly inside.

"d.a.m.n you to h.e.l.l, Black Hawk."

He smirked at her incisive insult. He entered the bedroom and closed the door. "I'll knock next time."

She was glowering, flushed. Had he ruined her private celebration by being there? He remained rooted to the spot. He wouldn't depart from the bedchamber. He wasn't feeling so magnanimous.

"Congratulations...Countess."

Her lips firmed. She skirted across the room and rummaged through the box of precious stones sitting on the vanity.

"What are you looking for?" he wondered sluggishly.

"Another knife," she said, words clipped.

He chuckled and rubbed his burning eyes. "You give no mercy, woman."

She sobbed in frustration before she scooped up the smal chest and hurled it across the room.

The wood cracked against the wal ; the s.h.i.+mmering jewels rained like falling stars.

He stared at the garish baubles. "Are you mad?"

"I'm not going to be a countess."

James looked at her, bewildered. He eyed her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, heaving. She bunched her fingers into fists and licked her lips in an almost frantic gesture.

"Don't lie," he said curtly. "The earl proposed, admit it."

"Yes, he did." Dark brown eyes filled with tears; the glossy pools reflected the firelight in the hearth and the bright suns.h.i.+ne coming in through the unmasked windows. "But I refused him."

He frowned. "Why?"

"Because I'm a fool."

He listened to the quick and shaky timbre in her voice. He listened to the woman's words, so perplexing. She had desired the earl's t.i.tle, coveted the worthless name for months. Hel , years! She had deserted him for the blasted opportunity to gain a footing in posh society. And now that she had a chance to step into the aristocratic s.h.i.+thole she'd so earnestly longed for, she rebuffed it?

"I am such an idiot!" she shrieked, eyes wild. "Have you come to gloat?"

Was she daft? He had lost everything dear to him. What was there to gloat about? He said through gritted teeth, mouth bruised and tender, "I'm not here to gloat."

Fat tears soaked her cheeks. "No?"

James studied the woman's erratic mannerisms. He watched her as she scrubbed the briny moisture from her skin. She looked more and more savage as blood filled her features, so inflamed and irritated.

"What the devil is wrong with you?" he wondered gruffly, each pearled tear piercing his gut and making him feel uncomfortable. The woman was strong, unbreakable. Or so he had thought. He wasn't used to seeing her in such distress.

"Isn't this what you wanted? Well, here it is. Take it!"

"Take what?" he barked. "What are you talking about?"

"Despair!"

James took in a sharp breath. "You were eavesdropping?"

She had a nasty tendency to do that. She had listened to his conversation with William aboard the Bonny Meg before she had stowed away. And she had listened to it again at the castle...

James bristled. So she was privy to his desire for revenge? He had already cut out his heart for her once before. There was nothing left for her to maim.

"I heard every word." She trembled. She said weakly, "Was it all a lie?"

He looked at the bed, the sheets neat. He remembered the mussed bedding, stained with sweat. He remembered every sweet kiss and intimate embrace.

James stalked across the room, more memories filling his skull. He remembered every spirited laugh on the island. Every soft smile and wicked wink.

"Yes," he hissed. He looked deep into her watery eyes. "It was all a lie."

Every playful flirtation and beloved caress and cherished whisper. A lie! A sinful, ugly lie!

"Ugh!" she cried. "I said no. No! He asked me to be his wife and I said no. I waited for him to leave before I rushed upstairs to tell you. I am such a fool! You want pain?" She knocked him in the cheek with her knuckles. "Here's your despair!"

James was numb, stoic. He didn't feel the woman's a.s.sault at all. One pressing thought gripped him. "Why did you refuse him?"

"Because I wanted you!"

The cold and listless ice that had caged him slowly chipped away. A fire burned deep in his belly. A light. She had wanted him. Him! She had forsaken her desires and lofty ambitions to be with him. It was what he had struggled for: revenge. It was the perfect moment to walk away from her, to leave her in despair the way she had abandoned him.

And yet every dark and twisted desire to crush her had flitted away from his blood and bones. He stared at her swollen lips and puffy eyes. He listened to the aching sobs buried deep within her bosom. Perhaps he had never truly believed he would have his revenge.

Perhaps he had always believed her too cold to feel angst. But confronted with her shattered dreams, he had no desire to devastate her even more.

She had a heart.

The truth stirred the hurt in his breast, making him gasp for breath. "Why? Why did you leave me all those years ago?"

He had believed her cruel, a witch. But she possessed feeling...so why had she deserted him?

"You refused to marry me," she said with scorn.

James sensed the blood in his brain humming. "You deserted me over a game?"

"Not the game. I only challenged you to the game to win the forfeit. I wanted to marry you!"

James rubbed the back of his throbbing head in slow and methodic strokes. "Why?"

"Because I was a stupid chit." She rucked her brow, lips quivering. "I wanted to be a proper wife."

"But you loathed convention." Free. Wild. Unabashed. That was Sophia. It was one of the reasons he had desired her so greatly. "You snubbed social mores."

"And so you a.s.sumed I'd never want to wed?"

"Yes!" He flared his nostrils. "I would've stayed with you-forever. There was no reason to get married. I would not have abandoned you."

She scoffed. "Yes, I know. I'd be your everlasting island wh.o.r.e."

James cringed. "What?"

"I was your island wh.o.r.e! I endured the ridicule and the cold snubs from the rest of the islanders. I was Black Hawk's mistress. And I was treated like it."

"Why didn't you tell me?" he demanded, pulse thumping loud and strong in his head.

"I asked you to marry me," she returned fiercely. "That would have silenced the islanders. But you refused; you reneged on the forfeit." She fisted her fingers. "I was nothing but a warm wench to you. I was the daughter of a pirate, a prost.i.tute. I wasn't good enough to be your wife."