The Jezebel (Taskill Witches 3)

Two rowboats waited below. The one beneath the ladder carried two men, one at each oar. The other held seven men, four of them with their weapons trained on the spot where she stood. Another man was standing, presumably the officer.

Maisie lifted her hand, acknowledging them.

“Thank you,” she said to Clyde.

“Hold tight to the ropes...and to the song in your heart,” he replied.

Maisie nodded. Tears welled in her eyes, but she forced them back.

She grasped the rope, took a deep breath and clambered over the railing. Holding tight to the ladder, she waited until it stopped swinging about, then found her footing. The climb down was treacherous, but Maisie scarcely thought about how dangerous it was, and acted on instinct, for her mind was elsewhere.

The men who waited assisted her on the final rungs and encouraged her to take a seat at the head of the boat.

“Escort the lady back to the ship.” It was the officer in the other boat who issued the command.

The two men began to row determinedly.

The boat laden with armed men remained.

Maisie stared wretchedly at the water for most of the journey across, and then it occurred to her. Cyrus.

Lifting her head, she looked up at the ship they approached. There he was, at the railing, staring down at her.

He’d come. He’d come himself, to recapture her.

Dread filled her and the urge to fling herself into the water and swim to land was great. But how far would she get with these men in pursuit?

Must reach my kin. Must keep my wits about me.

What could she do? There was only one option—to handle Cyrus by means of magic. She would have to convince him she was glad to be reunited with him. She had never dared—never believed she could—for his knowledge was so great she was afraid he would recognize it in her. But these past few days away from him had changed her immensely, and she was no longer young Margaret, indebted to him. She was a woman, and a witch empowered, because of the time she’d spent with Roderick. Her captain had given her the strength, she was sure of it. She would manage Cyrus until they were well away from this place and Roderick and his men were safe and free. Only then would she find a means to escape once again.

They were closing on the navy ship, where another ladder awaited her.

Then she heard a voice from behind her, and realized that the naval officer who’d stayed behind on the other rowboat was issuing instructions to the crew of the Libertas once again.

“As you have handed over the young lady, a charge of kidnap will not be raised. However, you will forfeit your ship as recompense for previous misdemeanors and avoidance of taxes and excise duties. The Libertas will be commandeered by the Royal Navy of Great Britain for the service of His Majesty King George.”

Maisie jerked her head around and looked back.

Her hand went to her chest. How could they take his ship?

“Any man who wishes to stay aboard will be offered gainful employment as a member of the king’s navy. Those who wish to stand by your captain are urged to lower your rowboats and depart the vessel forthwith.”

“And if we do not agree?” It was Roderick’s voice, and it tugged on her heartstrings.

“There are currently eighteen cannons manned, loaded and pointed in your direction, Captain Cameron. They will be discharged if you do not abandon your ship immediately.”

Maisie listened, horrified.

“Your ship and all its crew will perish.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

Cyrus craned his neck, trying to catch sight of Margaret’s face.

All around him, orders were being issued and instructions shouted, but Cyrus Lafayette could do nothing but watch as the rowboat carrying his precious cargo came closer. His mood had been black for the past several days, and frantic. Now a deadly seriousness had come upon him. He would not settle until he knew the reasons for this. Could it be that she had truly been kidnapped? If it was true, he found it hard to believe that she could not outwit and escape her captors by magic. No, she must have instigated this. He would much prefer to think she had been led astray, or followed someone’s advice on a whim.

Just then she lifted her head and looked up at him.