Page 10 of The Heart of an Earl

Why did he look so familiar? He couldn’t possibly have been part of theRed Dragoncrew at some point—could he?

“Are you injured from the battle?” he asked the question, his stare unflinching.

Eyes she knew. Hazel eyes she’d seen before.

His mouth pulled to a tight line. “You need to answer me. Know that I’m not going to hurt you, but I do need to know if you are injured.”

“I know ye.”

Des’s eyes narrowed at her. “You don’t know me.”

“I do.” She leaned forward, her eyes squinting as she studied his face. “Ye—you were him. The one. I only saw ye for a moment—a second—and ye dropped in front of me.”

“I did what?”

She looked up at him, her eyes wide and clouded with ghosts, her voice a whisper as the possibility became a certainty in her mind. “ThePrimrose.”

“ThePrimrose?” He shook his head, his voice dipping as his words slowed. “ThePrimrose?”

She nodded.

His gaze dipped to the tips of her boots just barely brushing the floorboards, the name of thePrimroseon his lips again, even though he made no noise.

His look whipped up to her face. “The ship I was on—you were on. It was thePrimroseand it was Redthorn’s ship that attacked it? I never saw their ship—didn’t know who it was.” His hand went to his face, rubbing his eyes. “No. Impossible.”

His fingers dropped away and his gaze pierced her. “Your eyes. That was…” He shook his head, then his hand whipped out, snatching the blue kerchief that wrapped the top of her head and he ripped it off.

Her braids fell free from the tight coil she’d had them wrapped in. Braids, for she’d long ago given up trying to keep her hair combed.

He stared at her hair, his mouth the only thing moving on his body. “Auburn hair. That was you? You were the one he took. The girl.”

It washed over her in that moment. Brutal and ferocious and without warning.

She wasn’t on theRed Dragon. Wasn’t part of a band of pirates. Was no longer a pirate bride.

She’d had a life once.

A real life she barely remembered. A life of silk and fine wine and bonnets and a mother that adored her. A dream of a life she’d lost long ago, until she’d begun to wonder if it had ever truly existed.

Her mind had played tricks with her on the long days at sea—days where she couldn’t remember who she was, where she’d come from. The sea undulating in front of her and it was the only thing she knew—the only thing she was. The sea.

But no, she’d once had something else. A life. A real life.

Until she’d had none.

Her look dropped to the floorboards and the room started spinning—a waterspout engulfing her—and she had to fight for balance on the bed.

Her gaze lifted to Des and she stared at him, searching his face. Solid. He was solid. Centering her. He remembered her—who she was before. A direct link to the past. To the reality that once existed.

The room stilled.

It took several breaths before she could make her tongue move. “You survived?”

“I did.” He sank downward, balancing on his heels in front of her. Eye level with her, his right hand lifted, going to her knee, clutching it. “You survived.”

She nodded, tears welling in her eyes. Tears she’d banished to the depths of hell six years ago.

No tears. No fear. No feeling.

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