for her to follow.
Daltry surprised her with his acute hearing. Several times as they made their way topside he shoved her into the shadows long before men approached.
When they finally made it to the open air, he pushed Saint-Sauveur’s tricorne over her head. It was too big and it flopped from side to side. She steadied it on her head, knowing she needed it only long enough to hide her silhouette in the falling shadow of twilight.
The night air cast a shroud in gray velvet, but the Vengeance cut through it like a hand in a glove. The order was given to weigh anchor. It was impossible to see how close they were to land, but it couldn’t be far. She smelled land, a whiff of moist earth and greenery that carried on the breeze.
Daltry rushed Luísa to the railing. He looked in either direction and helped her over the side. “Work your way down. Smartly now.”
She clamored down the side, the tricorne falling into the drink as soon as she climbed over the railing. No matter. It had served its purpose.
Her fingertips wedged themselves on every nub and pocket of the ship’s ribs. The air was cool and salty and she heard the waves lap gently against the hull. At least the sea was calm. They wouldn’t have to fight the tide swimming to the bay.
Daltry was above and gaining on her position. He moved like a panther, silent and sure. He edged his way toward her side and offered a reassuring smile. It wasn’t far to the water. The breeze freshened and the fog began to wither, but they were sure to slip away unnoticed at least until they checked her quarters.
They hadn’t even made it to the water’s edge when drums beat to stations and the ship stirred to attention. “Find her!” It was Saint-Sauveur, his bark stabbing fear straight into her bones.
The crew scrambled across the ship like rats on fire and Luísa’s hands and feet froze to the side of the ship. She couldn’t move.
Daltry tried to tug her hands off the seam between boards, but she refused to budge.
“We have to go,” he urged.
“They’ll find us.”
He snarled at her. “Bloody hell, woman. Maybe you like the idea of Saint-Sauveur’s bollocks in your face, but I’m not going to let him catch me—or you.” With that, he straddled her and grabbed her by the waist. “Take a deep breath,” he ordered.
She hardly had time to obey before he yanked her off the hull.
They crashed into the sea, their splash shrouded by the growing mayhem on board ship. Daltry clung to her, despite her panicked flails to reach the surface again.
Down they went until she thought her lungs would burst. Blackness surged all about her and she prayed that God would take her quickly. She looked up and saw a dim glow of light. Lanterns? Was someone looking for them over the rail?
Daltry halted their descent and now pushed her toward the surface at an angle. He seemed to realize her distress and swam harder, grabbing her by the top of her breeches while his other limbs chopped the water and drove them up.
They popped up only a few yards from the Vengeance and Luísa gasped for air. For several seconds she gulped air, while Daltry held her afloat. She didn’t hear anything at first, her ears clogged with water. As she caught her breath, her hearing returned announcing the raucous furor on board ship. The ship was in chaos as men scoured every rat hole for signs of their prisoner.
They had to get away while there was still time. Without any words between them, Daltry unfastened the belt at his waist and lashed it to each one of their wrists. “I’ll swim for both of us. You stay afloat. Agreed?”
She nodded, bobbing in the water like a piece of driftwood.
The tide was out, but the chop of the surf had grown. It was a terrible place to dock a cutter. She couldn’t imagine why Saint-Sauveur would make port here.
The swim had sapped Luísa’s energy and she was exhausted by the time they reached the beach. Her clothes were heavy with saltwater and her feet
Daltry surprised her with his acute hearing. Several times as they made their way topside he shoved her into the shadows long before men approached.
When they finally made it to the open air, he pushed Saint-Sauveur’s tricorne over her head. It was too big and it flopped from side to side. She steadied it on her head, knowing she needed it only long enough to hide her silhouette in the falling shadow of twilight.
The night air cast a shroud in gray velvet, but the Vengeance cut through it like a hand in a glove. The order was given to weigh anchor. It was impossible to see how close they were to land, but it couldn’t be far. She smelled land, a whiff of moist earth and greenery that carried on the breeze.
Daltry rushed Luísa to the railing. He looked in either direction and helped her over the side. “Work your way down. Smartly now.”
She clamored down the side, the tricorne falling into the drink as soon as she climbed over the railing. No matter. It had served its purpose.
Her fingertips wedged themselves on every nub and pocket of the ship’s ribs. The air was cool and salty and she heard the waves lap gently against the hull. At least the sea was calm. They wouldn’t have to fight the tide swimming to the bay.
Daltry was above and gaining on her position. He moved like a panther, silent and sure. He edged his way toward her side and offered a reassuring smile. It wasn’t far to the water. The breeze freshened and the fog began to wither, but they were sure to slip away unnoticed at least until they checked her quarters.
They hadn’t even made it to the water’s edge when drums beat to stations and the ship stirred to attention. “Find her!” It was Saint-Sauveur, his bark stabbing fear straight into her bones.
The crew scrambled across the ship like rats on fire and Luísa’s hands and feet froze to the side of the ship. She couldn’t move.
Daltry tried to tug her hands off the seam between boards, but she refused to budge.
“We have to go,” he urged.
“They’ll find us.”
He snarled at her. “Bloody hell, woman. Maybe you like the idea of Saint-Sauveur’s bollocks in your face, but I’m not going to let him catch me—or you.” With that, he straddled her and grabbed her by the waist. “Take a deep breath,” he ordered.
She hardly had time to obey before he yanked her off the hull.
They crashed into the sea, their splash shrouded by the growing mayhem on board ship. Daltry clung to her, despite her panicked flails to reach the surface again.
Down they went until she thought her lungs would burst. Blackness surged all about her and she prayed that God would take her quickly. She looked up and saw a dim glow of light. Lanterns? Was someone looking for them over the rail?
Daltry halted their descent and now pushed her toward the surface at an angle. He seemed to realize her distress and swam harder, grabbing her by the top of her breeches while his other limbs chopped the water and drove them up.
They popped up only a few yards from the Vengeance and Luísa gasped for air. For several seconds she gulped air, while Daltry held her afloat. She didn’t hear anything at first, her ears clogged with water. As she caught her breath, her hearing returned announcing the raucous furor on board ship. The ship was in chaos as men scoured every rat hole for signs of their prisoner.
They had to get away while there was still time. Without any words between them, Daltry unfastened the belt at his waist and lashed it to each one of their wrists. “I’ll swim for both of us. You stay afloat. Agreed?”
She nodded, bobbing in the water like a piece of driftwood.
The tide was out, but the chop of the surf had grown. It was a terrible place to dock a cutter. She couldn’t imagine why Saint-Sauveur would make port here.
The swim had sapped Luísa’s energy and she was exhausted by the time they reached the beach. Her clothes were heavy with saltwater and her feet
Similar Books
