“Even better.” Jack touched his hat. “Said she plucked this hat off a dead man’s head and had to make sure I got it back. Then—”

Jack flipped back his coat. Slowly, he drew his jewel-handled cutlass.

“Gave me this back, as well. And a griping to go with it.”

I let go a belly laugh as tears streamed down my cheeks. Only these tears weren’t borne of sadness. They were borne of happiness. “I can only imagine. What’d she say?”

Jack screwed up his face in jest. “Russian Jack Rackham,” he mocked in a bad imitation of Irish Bon. “If that damned sword wasn’t so flashy, people wouldn’t be wantin’ to steal it. Do you realize half my life I’ve spent recovering your damnedable blade?”

I couldn’t help myself. A fit of laughter doubled me over. I let go a whoop. “That sounds like Irish Bon all right!” My face ached from the smile that pushed my lips wide.

Jack continued when I finally stopped laughing. “By the time the pomp died down about my daring escape from the grips of death and it was safe to come back to shore, the first thing I did was come to find you.”

Cold stones fell in my gut. You came to find me and you found me. At the altar, about to wed another man.

“I heard about your impending wedding. Lucky for me, you chose to marry up with the richest man in Wales. News like that travels fast, even over the sea.”

I sucked in a breath and held it. Oh Jacky—

Jack ignored me. “And that’s how I came to see you now. At your wedding. To another man.”

I sobered at the twinge of hurt that colored his words. “Oh Jacky.”

I dared a look into my husband’s eyes. They twinkled.

“If you want to stay and marry the landlubber Red—you have my blessing.”

I cocked my head and stared at him as my hint of a smile faded.

Could it be Jack doesn’t want me anymore?

“You’d have a respectable life,” Jack explained. “More money than God. No sad memories. Perhaps even children, someday.”

Loreena Jacqueline. My empty arms ached with the memory of the night I became both a mother and a mourner. I squeezed my eyes shut and shook my head. “Please, Jack.”

His voice was soft. “God knows you deserve a better life than what I gave you.” His arms were around me in a moment. Cradling. Comforting. I melted into them at once.

Jack’s breath was warm in my hair. “I love you Redella. My only wish is that your life is a happy one.”

Chapter Sixteen

Aboard The Black Otter on the high seas

Where’s Cap?” Solo’s voice sounded oddly hopeful, though he had to have watched Rusty and me row back to The Black Otter from the shore. Solo stood in the middle of the deck and, in the tall black boots, he looked the part of a ship’s captain as he handed me Jack’s hand-me-down sword.

Tommy sat on the crates along the side, trimming his fingernails with his knife. Poison Lightning descended the ratlines and jumped to the deck. Red Legs stood close to Rusty, who still wore the cloak she’d worn on shore.

We stood there on the newly blackened deck as the blood red sails Rusty had expertly sewn fluttered in the breeze. Anchor was dropped, but the way the waves lapped at the side of the ship, it seemed even The Black Otter herself was ready to be on her way.

“There was a trap—” I began.

I glanced back toward shore. Thankfully, I could see nothing. The thought of Jack hanging in the gibbet caused an almost tangible pain in my gut.

“They laid a trap for me. At the base of the gibbet. Where he’s hung.”

Solo dipped his head. “Is there hope? If I—if we—go to try and bust him out?”

Rusty shook her head. “They said they were purposefully keeping Jack alive in hopes Red would try and rescue him.” Her quiet voice sounded even more meek than usual. “If you tried to rescue him, you’d all hang for piracy. Those of you who survived, would anyway.”

“There were so many of them,” I said. “Intent on bloodshed. With Jack as the sacrificial lamb.”

Solo’s lips tightened. “There must be something?”

“There is.” I sucked in a breath. “Are the prisoners still locked below decks?”

Tommy piped up from the crates on the side of the deck. “They is, Miss Red, they is.”

“Good.” I nodded. “Bring me Dark Water and Charles Swan.”

The sun was low on the horizon when Dark Water and Charles were brought on deck.

“What do you want with us, Witch,” Dark water seethed.

Despite having saved his life in battle, Charles looked at me with hot hate in his eyes.

I ignored the both of them. “Is that how you address your Captain?”

“Captain,” Dark Water scoffed. “She’s no captain. She’s a witch who birthed a monster and killed her husband.”

I tried not to let the hurt of his words show on my face. Not now, not ever. The time for sentiment was over. “Dark Water, you sailed with the infamous Captain Kidd, did you not?”

He stared at me, laughter behind his eyes and a sadistic smile on his lips.

“So you should know this well. Aboard Captain Kidd’s ship, those who tried to mutiny were punished, were they not?”

The smile faded from Dark Water’s face.

“Well, were they?”

Still, Dark Water remained silent.

From the corner of my vision, Red Legs yanked the rope that was tied to Dark Waters’ neck, and he yanked hard. Something popped in the tall African. “Answer your captain,” he barked.

“She not my captain,” Dark Water seethed. He spat in the general direction of Red Legs. “And neither are you.”

I cocked an eyebrow. “Captain Kidd had a special punishment for mutineers,” I started. I paced before the pair of misfits like a lion I’d seen once in a menagerie. Back and forth. Back and forth. Pacing, staring. Never taking my eyes off my prey. Or my victims. Finally, I stopped in front of Dark Water, so close my breath had to be hot on his face. “He keelhauled them.”

Dark Water looked away.