The Infamous Rogue Part 43

James clasped her by the wrist again, but she wriggled loose, taking his meaty hand instead. "Follow me. Your brothers are waiting."

He didn't protest. He followed her, let her guide him to safety.

"Why did you come, Sophia?"

She steered him through the pa.s.sageways, careful to keep to the shadows and avoid the other gaolers roaming the causeways.

"I told you, your brothers asked me for my help."

"You could have told them to b.u.g.g.e.r off." He demanded fiercely, "Why did you come?"

She huffed. "I didn't want your hanging to upset your sister."

The man's black mood blackened even more, for he stiffened his fingers and clenched her palm.

Sophia disregarded the pressure on her hand. She also overlooked the growing pressure in her heart as she tried to convince herself she didn't give a d.a.m.n about the pirate captain, that she was just saving his a.r.s.e for Belle's sake. But the more she repeated that mantra in her head, the hollower it sounded.

She maneuvered James along the stone wall and toward the southernmost entrance, where she and the brothers had previously agreed to meet.

The couple slipped through the vacant turnkey's quarters. The ground floor door was farthest from the gallows, which was located at the northeast corner of the street. Even so, as soon as she unfastened the bolt and slipped through the door with James in tow, she was swarmed by myriad spectators.

Sophia gasped. The wall of energy, the dense thickness of limbs was suffocating. James shielded her from the crushing crowd with his weight. The mob hollered, anxious to witness the day's hangings. Ten wretches were already lined along the platform, awaiting death. Even the gaolers were too preoccupied with the frantic throng to detect their stealthy escape.

Swiftly a mantle smothered James. Edmund and Quincy had circled the captain, concealing him from public view. The rabble was too thick, too randy to recognize the captain's visage, but the precaution was wise, nonetheless.

William grabbed her. "You were supposed to come get us, Sophia."

The reprimand in his voice lifted her hackles, and she snapped, "The plan changed."

William glowered at her before he looked at the fledglings and ordered, "Take him to the ship."

But James resisted. "Sophia!"

"I'll take care of Sophia." William avowed, "I'll see her safely home. Now go!"

"Go, James," Sophia urged him, glaring at him. "Go before they find you missing or it will have been for nothing."

James stopped struggling against his kin. He let his brothers, and the swaying movement of the other bodies at large, determine his steps and steer him in the opposite direction from her.

Their eyes locked one last time as the bells tolled eight o'clock and the trapdoors parted, snapping the necks of the condemned.

Chapter 25.

J ames stretched his booted toes toward the coal-burning fireplace and folded his hands across his midriff. He looked at the oil painting that Quincy had purchased, above the mantel and trimmed in an elaborate, baroque-style frame. The artwork ill.u.s.trated a siren, clutching a rock plastered with algae and coral as the foamy sea battered her scaled fins.

He glowered at the piece.

A soft breeze whisked through the room as someone opened the study door.

James remained rooted in the wing chair. He listened to the clip-clop of footfalls behind him and recognized the familiar gait.

"What do you want, Quincy?"

The pup settled in the twin seat beside him, looking grave. "Will's pestering me about my latest pursuit, so I've come seeking refuge." He followed the captain's gaze to the canvas. "She's beautiful, isn't she?"

"I hate that picture."

"You have no appreciation for art, James."

Quincy rubbed his sluggish eyes, pupils constricted. "How are you feeling?"

James regarded the pup thoughtfully before he stroked his chin, rife with stubble and bruises. "I'm fine."

James was back inside his town house. The charges against him had been dismissed.

The Duke of Wembury had presented testimony in court that James was not the notorious pirate leader Black Hawk. The court was unwilling to hang a man so intimately connected with such a prestigious family. The accusation was deemed a misidentification -and James's escape from the gaol was overlooked.

"Wil 's also searching for his own ship to captain...but it won't be the same at sea without the Bonny Meg-or you, James."

He hardened. "Then don't join the navy."

Quincy sighed. "I wish it was that simple."

"It is."

"No, it isn't, James." He stretched his legs and crossed his feet at the ankles. "We need to be privateers."

The muscles in his jaw firmed. "We'll find the impostors. We don't need to seek a pardon."

That dastardly knave Hagley and his crew were still on the loose, but James intended to track the conniving b.a.s.t.a.r.ds to h.e.l.l. He intended to quash the impostors and put an end to his own infernal namesake once and for al .

"It's not just the impostors pushing us into a corner, James."

"Aye, you're bored," he said succinctly. "I know."

"Think about it, James. It's not easy going against one's true nature, even instinct. Being a privateer will give us the freedom we need to be ourselves."

James had once echoed similar claims...to Sophia.

Don't you see how they crush you, sweetheart? Take away your breath? Let me give you breath.

He closed his eyes. He was breathless, too. He had once commanded respect as the infamous pirate captain Black Hawk...now he was a barbarian, parading in fancy robes, like a sideshow carnival chimp, for the ton's amus.e.m.e.nt.

Muscles stiff, James demanded, "And do you think it's easy for me to be a merchant sailor?"

Quincy snorted. "No, I'd wager the Bonny Meg you're miserable about the whole ordeal, too. But unlike you, I intend to change my circ.u.mstances."

"Well, I can't." James seethed. "The navy destroyed my life. You don't understand."

"I understand," he said quietly. "I know you regret the past. And I'm sorry."

James glanced at the pup, frowning. "For what?"

"For making your life so miserable."

Long-ago memories surfaced in James's head: Quincy's childhood antics, his rebellious, teenage stage-which he had yet to grow out of-and yet James wouldn't use the word "miserable" to describe the past twenty-one years he'd shared with the pup. It wasn't Quincy who'd made him so miserable, but the hardship of caring for him-for all of them. Even with his father's help in the latter years, much of the burden of parenthood had rested with James...perhaps a burden he had wittingly placed on his shoulders. He could have offered his siblings more freedom as they'd matured, but he had chosen not to.

James smelled the fumes stemming from Quincy's clothes. "You've been chasing the dragon again, haven't you?"

He shrugged. "It makes me forget."

"Forget what?"

"That I killed Mother...that I ruined your life."

James scowled. "What the h.e.l.l are you talking about?"

"If I hadn't been born, Mother would still be alive and you wouldn't have wasted your life playing nursemaid."

There was a profound and biting sentiment in his belly as he imagined the past two decades without Quincy's foolery and charm.

"I know you loathe the navy for taking Father away, James. Why don't you loathe me for taking Mother away?...Or do you?"

"I don't hate you, you a.s.s."

He chuckled. "Well, that's good to hear."

"d.a.m.n it, Quincy!" He slammed his fist against the armrest. "It isn't the same. The navy willfully kidnapped Father. You didn't intend Mother harm."

"Stil -"

"Enough!"

Quiet settled between the brothers as the evening shadows skulked inside the room through the darkening windows.

"Sophia is sailing back to Jamaica tonight."

James stifled the bleeding sore in his soul. "I know."

"Aren't you going to go after her?"

"No."

"But you love her."

James rubbed his thrumming brow, struggled against the cold darkness slowly filling his heart. "She doesn't want anything to do with me."

"She's angry with you, but she loves you, too."

He scoffed. "And how do you know that?"

"She saved your life."

"She did that to protect Belle from humiliation and distress."

Quincy tsked. "You might be old and wise, James, but really..."

Slowly James lifted a single brow.

"Sophia wouldn't be so furious with you if she didn't love you," the pup said sagely.

"She wouldn't be in such pain."

James looked away from his brother. He shut his eyes, his heart against the anguish stirring in his own mind and soul. "I'm not going after her."

"You'll regret it."

"Blast it, Quincy! Don't you have a wench to bed? Enlist in the navy?"

"Fine." He lifted from the chair, lethargic. "But let me ask you this, James: If you'd had the chance to make it right seven years ago, would you have done so?"

A piercing image raided his head, captured his senses: "There was nothing more I could give you."

"Except yourself."

"Yes. Except that."

"And yet you didn't give me that, James. That was the one thing in the world I wanted from you...and you didn't share it with me."

The words tormented him. James reflected upon the past, the empty plantation house, the dastardly fob watch. If he'd had the chance to make it right then...

Sophia had wits and will. She had infiltrated the notorious Newgate Gaol and liberated him with a dagger and a hairpin. The woman was savvy and independent. She didn't need him...but if she desired him?

Quincy headed for the door. "Don't let another seven years pa.s.s before you make it right with Sophia. You don't need more regret."

Sophia stood at the p.o.o.p. The captain had granted her permission to scale the officers'

deck. She watched the frothing waves behind the t.i.tan, the folds in the dark water as the mighty vessel cut through the tranquil sea.

He had not come for her.