Page 59 of Scourge of the Shores
Lucas placed a steady hand on her shoulder and gave it a loving squeeze. The warmth and weight of his touch should have been comforting, but they only made the pain inside her bite back.
“Get some rest,” Lucas said. “Tomorrow’ll come whether ye want it to or not.”
And with that, he left her to the fire—and to the memory of Robert’s touch, which lingered like a phantom she couldn’t shake.
Danna wound the loose end of her bandage tighter around her finger, pulling until the sting cut through the numbness. The hall felt colder than usual, the weight of the coming meeting pressing against her ribs. She sat stiff-backed at the long table, Lucas steady at her side. He patted her shoulder, but she shook her head.
“I hope it ain’t him,” she whispered, pulling a stray piece of gauze.
“And if it is,” Lucas said. “Ye’ll be Danna Chadwick, leader of our island, descendant of the first Pirate King of the North Sea.”
“I’m glad one of us ain’t doubtin’ me.” She wrapped the stray string around her index finger and pulled it tight to keep it from fraying.
Lucas leaned in and brushed the stray edge down with his finger. “Ye’ve got one little piece astray right now.” He kissed her temple. “But see how you pushed it down and smoothed it back? The wound will heal.”
Danna picked at the end with her nail. “If left to stray, though, it could unwind the whole piece.”
Lucas nodded. “That’s why ye cut it off before it unravels.”
She pressed the end down with the fat flesh of her thumb, not ready to cut anything off yet, though she knew she would have to soon.
Boots echoed outside the door. Voices, laughter—pirates. She swallowed hard, forcing her shoulders to stay straight. Maybe it wouldn’t be him.
Lucas sat up straight while she forced herself to look at the doors. As the island’s leader, she had to present a strong front.
The door creaked open, and the laughter died on pirate tongues.
Robert walked in, four men flanking him.
His gaze snapped to hers. Just for a moment, sorrow flickered—brief, unguarded. His grin faltered, lips pressing thin. But just as quickly, the mask slipped back into place. The easy smirk returned, smoothing over the cracks like it had never fallen.
Lucas shifted beside her, waiting for her to react. She didn’t.
“Captain Chadwick, Captain Ervin,” Robert said, dipping his chin to her. “Meet me crew: Frank, Quartermaster, and Larc, Bosun.” He pointed to each man and then to the two on his other side, “Captain Hagen, if ye remember, and his Navigator, William.”
“Ahoy,” Danna said and leaned back as the pirates approached the table to sit. The island guards stood by the doors.
Robert sat across from Danna, slipping into the seat with a careful gaze on her bandaged hands.
“How many trees ye’ve fell?” she asked, getting straight to the point.
Robert’s gaze slowly lifted from her hands to her eyes before he gestured to Frank to speak.
“Seventy-eight. How many gallons of tar and pitch?” Frank asked.
“Enough for forty ships,” she said, crossing her arms.
“Working day and night in shifts,” Lucas added. “Ye?”
“Aye, same here,” Robert said with a nod. He leaned back too and locked eyes with Danna.
Hagen glanced at Robert before speaking. “I’d wanna see those gallons, lass.”
“Captain,” Robert corrected his fellow Pirate King, still holding Danna’s gaze. “Her name’s Captain Chadwick.”
Hagen narrowed his eyes but restated his request. “I’d wanna see those gallons, Captain Chadwick.”
Danna couldn’t pull her gaze away from Robert. “Very well, Captain Hagen. After that, we’ll inspect yer lumber.”
