She was gone.

  Chapter Three: Shore

  Rose kicked until she reached the water’s surface. The salt water burned the raw flesh on her wrist. Kenelm had attempted to secure her to the ship. His effort was noted, even though it had failed.

  Water rushed over her. It was hard to keep her face above the choppy waves. There were so many things she’d yet to do in her life. Such as tell her father that she was still alive, although he might not care. Or tell Evander that she was over him. He deserved to know that at least one person wasn’t affected by his gregarious charms.

  Her arms were heavy, so heavy. The gown collected water dragging her farther into the murky depths. Perhaps this was the end. So close to shore, yet so far away.

  A strong arm wrapped around her middle. Even in the water, his scent dominated. “Don’t fight, dear. I’ll keep us up. We just need to ride the waves to shore.”

  She spit, spewing ocean water from her mouth, before gasping. “Kenelm? Why are you here? What did you do?”

  She knew the answer. He’d abandoned his ship… to save her.

  “Jones will take care of the ship,” he shouted. How could wind rob people of so much? Their voice… their lives.

  Kenelm’s grip loosened, and she tightened her hold.

  “The dress. It’s weighing us down.”

  She groaned. How was she supposed to wiggle free of the gown? What would she do when they struck land? Probably be happy they made it.

  Water pulled at Kenelm, forcing him lower. He tilted his chin and lifted his face to the surface. Keeping her dignity wasn’t worth his life.

  She pulled her arms free of the sleeves then wiggled until the gown fell to her hips. Kenelm grabbed the waist and tugged it free. She still wore her underthings, so she was clothed but not well.

  A disadvantage to removing the dress was Kenelm had less to hold onto. The chemise and pantaloons stuck to her like a second skin.

  Kenelm’s fingers were slipping.

  “Don’t you let me go!”

  The wave struck.

  ****

  He felt her slipping away.

  The gown had dragged her down but with only her underthings he’d had nothing to hold. Now she was floating away from him. Her head bobbed above the waves, and he swam toward her with lengthy strokes.

  The coastline drew closer. No rocks jutted. They should be able to coast in and land on a soft bed of sand… he hoped.

  Waves crashed over his head. He lengthened his stroke. If Rose disappeared under the waves, he might never find her.

  His heart raced as figures began to slide from the water. Crew members that had been thrust overboard seemed to have survived. Now if…

  The stark white of Rose’s chemise flashed before the green background of foliage. She wrapped her arms around her middle and shivered. He needed to reach her quickly. She was alive and exposed. She needed his protection.

  ****

  Men that had been thrown overboard huddled together for warmth. She hung back, holding her arms around her. Kenelm bobbed off the coast, headed her way. The closer to shore she’d come, the easier it had been to drift right in.

  She moved backward into a banana plant. The leaves were huge, and she tore some from the stem and layered them over her chemise. By the time she’d finished her makeshift clothing, Kenelm was ashore. She’d never been so happy to see him.

  “Why do I lose ships when we’re together?”

  She heard the humor in his voice, or she would have been concerned. A soaked shirt fell across her shoulders.

  “Wear this. At least it is thicker than your—your current attire.” His voice was thick, gruff.

  The men had gathered wood and started a fire. Off the coast, the water calmed, and the ship stilled. She could see a dinghy lower. Help was on the way. Although she didn’t know what they could bring. The ship was empty of supplies, food, clothing, and everything of necessity.

  Water splashed onto the dirty shore, spraying a fine mist across Kenelm’s broad shoulders and bare chest. Without the painted eagle, he was even more striking. Something she shouldn’t be thinking too much about.

  The sodden shirt about her shoulders did little to stave off the chilled air, and she shivered. He clasped her arm and guided her toward the fire. “Sit here until the men arrive.”

  He helped her settle, then he walked back to the ocean’s edge and stood with his legs spread and his arms crossed. Heavy burdens lay upon his shoulders. His broad muscular shoulders. Lots of men were dependent on him for their lives and livelihood. Did his crew members have family waiting for them in England? Perhaps wives and children awaiting their return? People who would be disappointed if they were lost?

  Until that moment, she’d never realized the challenges he faced.

  She rose and went to stand next him, laying her hand on his upper arm. He flinched but didn’t turn.

  “Thank you.” She didn’t speak loudly, her throat wouldn’t allow it, but the words needed to be said.

  Tension eased from his muscles. It didn’t make up for wrecking his first ship, but maybe knowing she appreciated him would help him continue with the struggles that lay ahead.

  Chapter Four: Town

  Once the dinghy and its crew reached the shore, Kenelm was given a shirt. Jones must have used the spyglass to see them. His second could have brought a gown for Rose, if only the offerings on The Golden Goose were not limited to ragged men’s trousers and blouses. Not something befitting a woman.

  He tugged the shirt over his head. The woolen fabric was scratchy. The shirt was hardly appropriate attire for the weather. But at least the holes throughout would keep him cool.

  Emaciated men moved toward the blazing fire. That was his crew, perishing before his eyes.

  He ran his hand over his face. Rose’s word of appreciation had eased some of his anxiety, but only temporarily. He wouldn’t feel truly better until they found something to eat. Which needed to happen soon.

  Jones waited patiently. Kenelm acknowledged him with a nod.

  “Cap’n, I would like to travel inland and look for signs of people.”

  “Very well. Take some hunters with you. Maybe you’ll find something else useful along the way.”

  Jones nodded and gathered three men to travel with him.

  Kenelm paced along the shoreline. Ocean waves splashed over his bare feet. His boots sat beside the fire, hopefully drying. With any luck, Rose was doing the same.

  He glanced back at the pyre. She was huddled over it, his shirt draped around her like a sail. She deserved better. She deserved a fancy home, designer gowns, celebratory parties, and all that money could give her. Also a lady’s maid for every day of the week and her own laundress.

  What had caused her falling out with Evander? He should just brave the question. Her anger would only be temporary; she was too dependent on him for it to be otherwise.

  The green foliage parted. Jones stepped through followed by his hunting party.

  “What’s the word?”

  “There are signs of life not far in.”

  “You didn’t see a township?”

  “Nay, I thought it best to return before going too far.”

  Kenelm understood. If someone unfriendly waited on them they wouldn’t have enough strength or manpower to protect themselves. There was strength in numbers.

  Together they made their way to those surrounding the fire. He gave directions for half to stay behind and watch the ship bobbing in the water. The rest he directed to come with him. They would go to what he hoped was a township, secure supplies, and return. Simple.

  The sun was high and his skin felt singed. The brush farther inland agreed with him. Plants seemed to melt beneath the onslaught of heat. The river water they’d barreled, placed in water bladders, and brought on shore wouldn’t last long. Maybe he should have left more people on the shore.

  “How much farther?” Duplay grabbed a long withered leaf and fanned his flushed face.

  “Don’t worry, Flouncy, I’ll have you in creature comfort soon enough.”

  Duplay cocked his chin at the intended insult hurled by Jones. Beside him, Rose giggled. It was the first noise she’d made since the trek began.

  “Rose, how do you fare?”

  “Well.”

  He could tell she embellished her condition. She was hardly well. The shirt he’d leant her was drenched in sweat. Her underthings had no doubt dried leaving gritty salt behind and now were wet again and rubbing her tender skin. Perhaps he should offer to carry her…

  “What is the first thing you wish to acquire when we reach the township?”

  She tapped her finger to her rosy lips. They were brighter than usual, no doubt because of dryness.

  He offered his water bladder, but she declined with a shake of her head.

  “The first thing would be fresh fruit or vegetables then perhaps an entire cow, minus the hide and cooked of course.”

  “The entire cow?”

  She nodded.

  “And of course no hide.”

  Nodded again.

  “Anything more? A gown perhaps?” He could imagine her in a sliver-blue fabric, shimmering as she moved toward him.

  “Most definitely! At least seven—one for every day of the week, and made of soft cool linen. And new stockings and shoes that have a sole. I might even consider wearing a gentleman’s boot!”

  Duplay gasped, and she giggled again. It was a sound he enjoyed immensely and had an overwhelming desire to encourage.

  “And what of a proper bath?”

  She grabbed his arm. “If only it were possible…” The sigh parted her lips. The lips he longed to kiss—again.

  Jones clapped, and Kenelm was pulled from his imaginings too soon.

  “Welcome to the township, Cap’n.”

  The banana leaves parted. Three clapboard buildings ran one side of a dirt path. Men of various shades of brown arrayed in ragged attire faced them as they stumbled through the green foliage. There must be water nearby or the bushes would be the abysmal shades of death they’d just passed.

  Jones spoke a greeting in English. When the lounging men cocked brows and acted confounded, he tried another language. Each produced the same confused expression.

  Rose’s stomach growled and she slouched against him. “I don’t feel so well.”

  Enough! He drew out the coin purse and removed three shiny golden coins. The townsmen’s eyes widened. Now he was speaking a language they understood.

  ****

  Warm liquid tickled her dry, cracked lips. She blinked until the fog cleared from her eyes. Kenelm, his lip pinched between his teeth and his brow furrowed, held a spoon aloft above her.

  “Please, Rose, you must drink some of the broth.”

  She elevated her head and clamped her mouth over the spoon, sucking the lukewarm liquid from the cavity.

  Where was she? Rough boards lined the walls of the room that was no bigger than Kenelm’s quarters on the ship. Curtains, patched and holey, fluttered upward before an open window. A cool breeze stroked her heated skin. She was on her back on something softer than a berth. It felt decidedly like a bed.

  “Please take more, but don’t go too quickly. I don’t want you to become ill.”

  “What happened?” Her throat was scratchy and felt like a dry riverbed.

  “You swooned. The doctor said lack of nourishment.”

  She bit her lip and a tear slipped from her eye.

  “I asked him about the cow, but he said that needed to wait until you’d put a bit more in your stomach.”

  She giggled in spite of herself and he smiled broadly. “I think you just said that to make me laugh.”

  “I did. I enjoy your giggle very much.”

  His eyes darkened to almost a smoldering look. The desire she saw scared her and she focused her gaze on the soup.

  “It smells good. What’s in it?”

  “Hmm, I was afraid to ask, but I think it is turtle. It has enough bones to be turtle.”

  She nodded and sucked more juice from the spoon. The action didn’t dim his expression.

  “I-I think I can feed myself if you have more important matters to attend to.”

  “I have nothing more important than ensuring your well-being.”

  She managed to swallow past the lump in her throat. They were playing a dangerous game. She couldn’t get wrapped up in his affections. She needed to well, she needed to…

  The knock on the door made her jump. The door parted without her granting permission, and Jones stuck his head inside. “Cap’n the others have arrived.”

  Kenelm hesitated. She grasped his hand. “Go. I promise to keep eating.”

  “So you can have the cow?” His lips quirked upward.

  She snickered. “So I can have the cow.”

  Kenelm backed from the room, eyeing her as she slurped the broth. Once the door shut, she placed the bowl on the table. Perhaps the soup had been good once, but now it tasted awful. She leaned over and gulped down two more bites because she’d promised. The liquid threatened to return, but she kept it down by force of will.

  She struggled to her feet and eased the window curtain back so she could look out. Kenelm approached his crew members that had remained on the beach. They looked sallow and bone weary. She hoped their food would be better than the swill she’d been given or the meat would never return to their bones.

  From her vantage point, she couldn’t see the other two buildings that had lined the street. Only the vast amount of dying shrubbery faced her. No one besides their crew milled around the township. Even the few gentlemen present upon their arrival were eerily missing. Were they the only ones about the town or were there more that were hiding ready to attack?

  She leaned her head against the windowpane. The coolness caused chill bumps to rise on her body. She still wore the wet pantaloons and chemise. The water and sweat had dried leaving behind gritty salt. A washbasin and rag were on a stand. Quickly she removed her clothing. The water had warmed with the heat, but at least it was wet and not salty. She made quick work of cleaning.

  She tapped her finger to her chin. What was she going to wear? There were drawers, a chest, a wardrobe, and other furniture items in the room. The only question was where to start?

  Chapter Five: Women

  Kenelm escorted his men inside the middle building on the street. Liquor barrels lined the walls behind a vast counter. A stage offered entertainment. Scantily clad, heavily painted women offered food and beverages. It was a single man’s dream and a captain’s nightmare.

  The third building was a hotel, complete with a kitchen and dining area on the first floor. The cook was knowledgeable and able to almost magically prepare any dish requested. Such as soup…

  In fact, three buildings practically encompassed the entire town. The location in the middle of nowhere was disconcerting to say the least, but desperate times left him without recourse.

  The men had been warned to stay away from the women. They were to fill their bellies, rest, get a fresh change of clothes, a bath if it could be found, and then return to the ship. Period.

  Kenelm left them in the tavern. He didn’t like it, but it was the best way to accommodate his men in the shortest amount of time. He left them and made his way back to the first building, a general store with anything he could possibly need. The shopkeeper already held his list and was attempting to fill the order. By morning he should be supplied and ready to lead his remaining men back to the ship and on toward home.

  “Ah, you have returned.”

  The only Englishman in the lot would be the shopkeeper.

  “Are you here to add more to your list?” He rubbed his hands in obvious glee. Kenelm had dangled the gold, and he was seeing the effects.

  “Nay. I’m here for an update on what I’ve already ordered.” He would prefer not to spend the night, but he didn’t see a way around it.

  The gent pointed to a back corner. “As you can see we’ve already begun pulling items from the shelf. By morning everything will be stacked neatly on the bed of a wagon and ready for you to haul to your camp.” He paused. “Where did you say that was?”

  “I didn’t.”

  The shopkeeper’s gleam when the gold had been shown had instantly placed him on his guard. Now the request for his camp didn’t make him feel any better.

  “Of course.” The shopkeeper moved around the counter. “While you’re here you should enjoy the pleasures our town has to offer.” He clapped.

  A girl, a head shorter and at least ten years younger with jet-black hair braided and hanging down her back, strolled from the back room. Jewelry dangled at her wrists and from her ears. The sleeves of her blouse were a different color from the bodice and her skirt had at least three layers of different colors. She reminded him of a gypsy he’d once met.

  “Yes?”

  “Esmeralda, please take our guest, the dear captain, to the tavern. Any drink he desires have Ramos fill.”

  “But—”

  “And place it on my personal account.”

  Protests were silenced. Esmeralda wrapped her arm in his and led him from the shop.

  Perfume tickled his senses. It was the same scent as the other women in the tavern and just as potent. The heavy aroma burned his eyes until they seemed blurry. Even his stomach felt queasy.

  “Here we are, Mr. Captain.”

  She parted the door to the tavern and took a step back. The smell was even more overwhelming, burning his throat. His crew was inside seemingly unfazed.

  “Sir?”

  “I-I think I’ll just retire early.” Something didn’t feel right.

  She attempted to shove him inside, but he stood his ground until she stopped. She bowed and stepped back. “As you wish. If I may be of any further assistance…”

  She left the word dangling and backed away. Her steps were slow as she returned to the porch of the shop and took a seat on a bench.

  He turned and stuck his head back inside the noisy tavern. He felt a tug, as though he should enter, so he quickly took a step back. It would be safer to check on Rose—well maybe.