“But surely you’ll be vastly outnumbered?”
Alan grimaced. “Aye, but we’ll have surprise on our side. It will have to be enough.”
“But if it’s not?” The idea of Hawk being so close at hand and then killed in some bloody brawl was unbearable. “I have another idea. A better one, I wager. Less violent.”
“It’ll be up to Mr. Snell.”
“I’m sure I can convince him. Perhaps with your help?”
“Aye, if it saves the captain and our own skins, I’m all for it.” Alan glanced at the house. “Are you planning on coming back?”
Imagining Susanna and her babe inside, Nathaniel swallowed hard over the lump in his throat. He shook his head and plunged into the night.
Chapter Twenty-Four
As if he’d never left, Hawk huddled in the dank hold in total darkness. His leather coat and boots would possibly never dry, but it seemed fitting Captain Hawk would wear his costume to the end.
Damp, with rats scurrying, it was a foretaste of the grave save for the lack of earth and wriggling insects. The ship creaked at anchor, the quiet indicating it was likely still night. He wondered again if Nathaniel was safe and well, or even alive.
Please live. Please.
It seemed Walter Bainbridge didn’t have the privateer’s fee, so the noose would wait for another day. Hawk slept fitfully, no longer sure of when he woke or dreamt.
When there were shouts and splashes and the thudding footsteps of multiple men, he wasn’t sure if he’d slept again and now it was morning, his execution at hand—assuming Bainbridge had satisfied Captain Taylor.
But when he was hauled up to the main deck once more, stars blanketed the heavens. He peered around, discerning two tense groups at odds. Some of the privateer crew were scattered around the deck, weapons outs. Captain Taylor stood in the center, eyeing a cluster of men by the starboard rail.
In the silvery light, Hawk immediately recognized the slope of Snell’s shoulders and his barrel silhouette. His heart soared. And yes, there were some other crewmen he knew alongside Snell, and—
Knees almost giving out, Hawk knew joy more powerful than he’d dreamed possible. He opened his mouth to call out to Nathaniel, then snapped it shut lest he put him in more danger.
His heart was a war drum, steady and true, ready to shake off the hands gripping him, ready to gnaw through their fingers with his teeth if it meant getting to Nathaniel, who lived.
Nathaniel stood dressed in black, a cloak concealing his body. His curls were tousled, and something glinted in his ear. His face seemed pale, but Hawk wasn’t sure if it was the moonlight or the effects of the stabbing. He itched to hold him and feel for himself that Nathaniel was whole.
“All right,” Captain Taylor said. “I’m listening.” His hand rested on the hilt of his sword. One of the gray curls over his ears sagged, and he’d shrugged on his jacket without a waistcoat, likely hastily woken in his cabin.
Instead of Snell speaking, Nathaniel did, and Hawk could only gape as he said, “I’m Nathaniel Bainbridge. I understand my father owes you a considerable sum.”
“That he does. Twenty-five thousand pounds, a quarter of your ransom. Told him I wouldn’t take less to go after the Sea Hawk.” Taylor glanced over. “Although he isn’t quite so fearsome now.” Some of the privateer crew sneered and laughed.
Hawk ignored them, willing Nathaniel to look his way. Yet Nathaniel remained focused on Taylor, who asked disbelievingly, “Are you in league with these pirates now, Bainbridge?”
“I am. I’ve had quite fucking enough of my father and his lies.” He spoke with such conviction—and profanity. Pride washed through Hawk with a wave of want.
Nathaniel went on, shoulders squared and head high. “We have your twenty-five thousand pounds, as well as some gold and silver from my father’s house as a bonus. All we ask is Captain Hawk’s return, and safe passage away from this cursed place.”
If this was a dream, Hawk would gladly sleep forever. He held his breath as Taylor pondered it. Nathaniel added, “My father doesn’t have two shillings to rub together. If you throw in your lot with him, you will end up with nothing.” He motioned toward land. “You can see for yourself the colony has collapsed.”
Taylor grimaced. “Indeed.”
“My father will cheat you, just as he did Captain Hawk, who was once a privateer like yourself until his letter of marque was revoked without warning for a fabricated offense. To avoid his debt, my father will not hesitate to do the same to you.”
Taylor shifted from foot to foot, his face pinched.
Nathaniel added, “Surely there has been enough blood spilled thanks to my father? And surely you do not think our numbers are this small?” He indicated Snell and their little party, O’Connell and Grady and a few others.
Taylor’s crew shuffled uneasily, peering out at the water and squinting toward land. Taylor’s lips thinned. Then he said, “Let me see the money. And this silver and gold.”