Grimacing against the pain, Anne went to retrieve her timepiece. She had just picked it up and was checking the glass when the door to the cabin began to open. Conditioned to duck out of sight, she automatically crouched down, praying it was Teach. But as the door swung shut, any words she might have uttered died on her lips when she saw that it wasn’t Teach. Or John or even Benjamin.
The man before her was a stranger. He was sopping wet and had a large dirk slung across his back, sheathed in a baldric. His hair was gathered in a queue at the nape of his neck. It was too dim in the cabin for her to make out the exact color. It could have been dark brown or perhaps even black. She couldn’t see his face, but he was broad shouldered and stout, much like John.
Anne’s breath caught in her throat and she went still and cold. Her eyes found her revolvers, tucked neatly into the baldric lying beside the solitary chair in the room. Blast! There was no way for her to retrieve them without him noticing. She wasn’t sure she even wanted to retrieve them.
All she knew was that whoever this person was, he wasn’t supposed to be here. Apprehensive, she watched and waited as he looked from side to side before he moved toward the desk, his gait unsteady with the tossing of the ship.
Feeling a trickle down her back, Anne wasn’t sure if it was blood or sweat. What would happen if he saw her? Deciding she didn’t want to find out, she searched desperately for something to hide behind, but aside from the armoire and the desk, the only other object in the room was a long crate behind the door. Anne crept toward the crate. It slid back and forth, back and forth, as the Triumph listed with every wave.
He searched through every drawer, tossing maps and scattering papers across the floor. As far as Anne knew, there was nothing of value on board.
When he was done at the desk, he turned to the armoire, pushing the hammock out of the way before continuing his search.
Anne crouched low behind the crate, grateful for the gloom of the cabin and the howling of the wind. The storm outside cloaked her in darkness. But the storm seemed the exact reason he was here. While the rest of the men were up on deck, trying to prevent the ship from sinking, he was free to search the room. But for what, exactly?
Cursing, he spun, taking in the rest of the furniture. His eyes fell on the glint of the pistols. Anne tensed in anticipation. Her small movement must have caught his attention, as ever so slightly, he turned his head and looked directly at her. Their gazes locked and the two froze, glued to each other’s stares. She didn’t know if he could tell that she was female. Her hair was caught back in a braid and she still wore breeches and Teach’s shirt. Nonetheless, the man’s jaw dropped and he looked as startled as she felt.
Something in his posture announced his intentions a second before he moved. Anne lunged for the pistols, the motion of the ship launching her just as he slammed into the wall.
Clutching the weapon with two hands, she pointed it at him. A poisonous alarm crept through her, and her finger touched the trigger. What would he have done if he’d reached the weapons first?
She’d never find out. With one last look in her direction and a chilling smile, he rushed toward the door, slamming it shut behind him.
Anne tried to catch her breath. Shaking, she pulled herself up by the desk and made her way to the hammock, clambering into it, and lying with her feet toward the door. She’d forgotten all about her stitches and cringed as her bloody back contacted the canvas.
With her eyes on the door, Anne aimed her pistol at the lock, ready for the next time the stranger burst into the cabin. She wasn’t about to be surprised again.
CHAPTER 28
Teach
Weary, sore, and concerned, Teach stood inside the captain’s cabin with his back against the door, surveying the chaos before him. The hopeful rays of the early morning sun broke through the last lingering clouds, tinting the windows with bright patches of light. It was a sharp contrast to the storm from the previous night. Maps and papers littered the floor.
In the midst of it all, Anne slept peacefully in the hammock, with her head tilted to the side. Her long lashes created shadows on her cheeks, and her lips were relaxed in sleep. That same mouth could curve up in the most beautiful smile, or a thin scowl when she was upset or angry.
The sight of her was knee-weakening, and sometimes it frightened Teach how much he cared for her.
He approached the hammock, wanting to reassure himself that she was all right. Reaching out to brush a stray hair off her face, he wasn’t prepared for the pistol pointed at his head. Startled, his eyes held hers, and she cursed beneath her breath.
“I’m beginning to think you enjoy pointing that thing at me,” he muttered, his pulse driving in constant spurts.
After a brief hesitation, Anne lowered the weapon. “I wouldn’t point it at you if you didn’t keep sneaking up on me.”
“I wasn’t sneaking up on you.”
She raised an eyebrow at him. “Then what, exactly, were you doing?” she whispered, her voice fierce.
“Coming to see if you were all right. What happened here?”
“Someone came looking for something.”
Teach scowled. “Who was it?”
“Someone I didn’t recognize. He was built like John, but his hair was dark brown or black.”
“Most of the men on the ship are built like John. That’s why they’re sailors.” His voice came out sharper than he’d intended. They spoke in hushed voices, not wanting to draw any attention, but Teach couldn’t hide his unease. Her description of the man only narrowed his hunt down to half the crew.
Anne grimaced as she shifted slightly in the hammock. “I tried to look for any marks or scars that would help to distinguish him, but it was too dark.”
“Did he see you?”
“Of course he saw me.”
Damnation! Teach’s instantaneous response was to find whoever had entered the cabin and remove his head from his body. “Did he hurt you?” he asked, his eyes running down the length of her. She was still dressed in breeches and one of his shirts, and aside from a thin scar on her shin, she showed no outward signs of abuse.
Except for her back.
“No. I think he was more surprised than anything.” Anne’s brow furrowed. “I just can’t imagine what he was looking for. When he saw the pistols, he almost took them, but I don’t believe that’s why he came.”
Teach could guess why the man had come in here. When Teach had spent the first few days of their voyage locked in the cabin, no doubt his crew had thought he was hiding something valuable. He was, but not quite what the men imagined. He didn’t think it had been anyone from the crew of the Deliverance. Those men trusted him and he had no reason to suspect any of them would be so bold as to break into the captain’s cabin. They’d been through too much together.
It was Kitts and his men Teach didn’t trust.
“Do you think he’ll tell anyone about me?”
“A lot depends on if he could tell if you were a woman or not. If he didn’t see you clearly, he might wonder who you were and what you were doing in here. In which case, he probably will come back, because he’ll believe I am indeed hiding something in my cabin.”
“Which you are.”