Page 79 of Kidnapped by the Pirate
Susanna brushed back his damp hair. “I told you, that monster will never trouble you again. You needn’t be frightened. Oh, Nathaniel. Was it awful? Of course it was, why am I asking that? Forgive me.” She took a shuddery breath. “I can’t tell you how relieved I am to have you home. I thought I’d never see you again.”
“I’m fine, Susie.” He rubbed his face, which had been shaved smooth. Probably at his father’s order, since a gentlemen must always be respectable even when at death’s door gripped in a fever.
A dark-skinned woman with graying hair knocked at the open door and entered with a steaming bowl of broth. Too weak to feed himself, Nathaniel had no choice but to submit as Susanna lifted the spoon to his lips.
After they coddled him like he was the infant—and despite his resentment, he couldn’t deny his helplessness—his eyes grew heavy again, but his heart raced, the ache in his wounded belly throbbing.
“Susie. What happened to the pirate?”
“Father had hired a privateer ship to battle the pirates, since we have no redcoats here. He’d hoped to sink them right there in the harbor, but they led the privateers on a merry chase. All for naught—Captain Hawk is soon to face the gallows. So, you see? Nothing to worry about. You needn’t ever think on that abominable creature again.”
He was certain the dagger had returned, twisting into him, stealing his breath. Susanna sat straighter, her eyes widening. “Nathaniel? No, lie back. Don’t thrash, or you’ll reopen the wound.” She turned her head, calling, “Judith!”
The older woman returned, and Nathaniel’s mind was buzzing too much to make out what she and Susanna were saying as they held him down. Soon they were administering bitter drops of medicine, and he gagged, gasping.
“There, there.” Susanna pressed another cold cloth to his head. “Sleep again, darling. You need your rest.”
What he needed was to save Hawk, to see him safe and happy and whole, but the black claimed him once more.
Chapter Twenty-One
Thunder rumbled, and Nathaniel wasn’t sure of the hour. The light beyond the windows was muted. He focused on the young woman sitting beside his bed, running a needle and colorful thread through material with nimble fingers, a candle beside her in the dimness, her ruffled silk dress a dusky rose.
She had fair hair but wasn’t the wet nurse, whose name he couldn’t recall. She certainly wasn’t Susanna. He stared at the needlepoint, the design some kind of flower.
“Elizabeth?”
Her head shot up, and a wide, slightly horsey smile broke out over her face. “Nathaniel! How do you feel? Let me fetch Susanna and send a messenger for the surgeon. He was here earlier, but you were sleeping very soundly. We must call him back before the storm hits. Are you thirsty?” At his nod, she helped him drink. Her forehead was high, hair on the ashy side, brown eyes bright and kind.
He felt as though he’d been sleeping for weeks, which he supposed he had. At least his head was clearer, and when he tried to lift his hands, they cooperated. Although the stab wound ached like it was open and bleeding, his boost in energy was an encouraging sign.
Before she could call anyone, he asked, “When is the trial? For Captain Hawk?”
Elizabeth opened her mouth but then closed it again, glancing to the door, which stood open. She whispered, “I don’t think they want you troubled with it. At least not until you give your testimony.”
“Testimony?”
“At the upcoming trial, such as it will be with our…limited resources. The pirate is being transported back here.”
His heart hammered dully. “From where?”
“I’m not sure. But apparently he and his men led the privateers on a chase all the way to Hispaniola. The pirate ship was damaged and listing badly, but some of the crew escaped ashore, to a peninsula. Apparently the captain created a diversion, allowing his men to flee. I suppose there is some honor amongst thieves after all.”
Nathaniel could only nod, the faces of the crew running through his mind. Who had survived? Dour Mr. Snell? Alan O’Connell? “When is he arriving?
“I don’t know. A hurricane might be brewing.”
He registered that she’d mentioned a storm earlier. Indeed, a gust rattled the windowpanes. “Is he injured?”
Elizabeth had glanced at the windows, her lip between her teeth. “The pirate?” She shrugged. “He’ll be dead soon anyway.”
The words were a punch to his wounded stomach. He wanted to lash out but restrained himself. It certainly wasn’t this girl’s fault. None of it. “Is the courthouse nearby?”
She grimaced. “They will merely build a platform in the town square. An actual courthouse is still to be constructed and now never will be, like most things on this wretched island.” Elizabeth seemed to catch herself, and she painted on a smile. “Don’t trouble yourself with any of it, my dear.” Tentatively, she took his hand, and he stared down at their linked fingers with puzzlement.
