Page 72 of The Heart of an Earl

It took long moments for his gaze to rise to Roe, his voice gravel in his throat. “If I toss it, I lose her. I lose the last bit of her.”

“Maybe that’s the curse of it.”

“No. Not a curse. My only salvation.” He heaved in a breath, looking out to the sea. “The box…as long as I know where it exists, I still have her.”

Roe’s head tilted to the side and he scratched the back of his neck. “I say this as the new captain—I don’t think theFirehawkcan hold it anymore. I think the box has to get off this ship—off to a place where men don’t speak of it—covet it. It will fall into the wrong hands eventually if it stays on theFirehawk.And I don’t want it to be the cause of my first mate’s death. My death.”

A raw chuckle escaped Des’s throat. “You? You can’t be killed, Cap.”

“One never knows.” Roe shrugged. “And I’d rather not chance it where I can.”

{ Chapter 21 }

Port of Bilbao, Spain

Fall 1825

Love. Another blasted battle for love.

Only this time it was for Captain Roe’s love. Lady Apton.

The curse hadn’t left theFirehawkwhen the box did. Roe became cursed in love just the same as everyone else had.

Maybe it was the ship that was cursed. Maybe it had been all along.

Maybe it was his own curse that followed him from years ago, infecting those around him.

Not that it mattered, for Des was no longer made for love. Never again.

Des blocked a sword at his face.

They were losing this ill-advised battle outside of a smuggling warehouse in the Port of Bilbao.

For love. For revenge.

Captain Roe was determined to eliminate Lord Bockton once and for all for all his sins—for killing Captain Folback and his wife, for threatening Lady Apton—and Des was determined not to let his friend die under his watch.

A prospect that was looking less and less likely as this battle wore on. Bockton’s men had theFirehawk’screw outnumbered three to one, and Des’s crewmates were dropping around him one by one.

A clash of steel inches from his ear rattled his head and Wes backed into his shoulder.

“Don’t take another blasted blade for me, Wes.” Des hissed through the air of shouts, screams and blades clanging. “The last time nearly killed you.”

“And let you faint away at the sight of your own blood? Not likely.” With a raucous laugh, the huge mass of Weston moved away from Des’s side, drawing blades from all sides. Repelling blades from all sides.

Des had never figured Weston out. The man was angry in peace. Laughing in battle. Happiest when he was one strike of a blade away from death.

And it had only gotten worse through the years.

With one eye on Weston’s back, Des swung his cutlass at the man in front of him as he ducked a sword swinging at his neck from the left. He spun and yanked a dagger from his left boot, only to see Murray take a blade deep in his shoulder that sent him to his knees.

Des dove away from the two men he was battling and sent his dagger into the side of the cutthroat about to end Murray.

The two brutes followed him, attacking him before he could even swing back around. He blocked a sword from severing him at the belly just as Captain Roe appeared at his side.

“Hey, Cap.” Des blocked another blow of steel with his cutlass.

“Des.” Roe spun around him and swung at the man charging at Des from the side.

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