A Brother's Honor by Jo Ann Ferguson Read Free Book Online Page B

not my lover!”
    â€œYou can explain that to him and the devil while you burn in hell!” He raised his sword.
    It was knocked aside with a crash of steel. Abigail struck the bed as Woolcott whirled to face Dominic. She recoiled as the swords came together again. She could not keep from staring at the blood on Dominic’s shirt. Was it his or someone else’s? Had everyone on this ship gone crazy?
    Woolcott screeched as Dominic’s sword found its mark. Abigail closed her eyes and fought not to be sick as Dominic pulled his sword back out of the sailor. She heard a thump and saw Woolcott’s corpse on the floor beside her. With a moan, she scrambled away. Her stomach heaved as the deck had in the storm.
    Dominic smoothed her hair back from her face while she gave in to her sickness. As soon as she could breathe without retching, he put his hand on her arm and whispered, “You must come with me, Abigail.”
    Sitting back on her heels, she leaned her head on his shoulder. She could not go anywhere. Her knees would not hold her now. “Where? Where can we go?”
    â€œSomewhere where you can be safe. I was a fool not to think that your father’s men would aim their vengeance at you.”
    â€œAre you saying you made a mistake, Captain St. Clair?” she asked softly.
    â€œIt happens on occasion.” He pulled her to her feet. “Now to make sure it is not the last one you shall ever see …”
    â€œWhere are we going?” Abigail asked as she tried to keep up with him as he led her through the saloon toward the door to the open deck.
    Another explosion from deep within the ship slammed them into the sideboard. Dominic groaned an oath as his sword fell to the floor. He grasped his right arm and cursed again. His fingers were numb, but pain raced up to his shoulder.
    â€œGet my sword, Abigail,” he ordered through clenched teeth.
    Her face was gray as she picked up the sword. She balanced it in her hand, then grasped the hilt with both hands. Slowly her gaze rose to his. He did not need to hear her speak. Her thoughts were as clear as if her freckles spelled out the words across her cheeks. She now had the means to slay him.
    When she shoved the sword into his left hand, he heard, through the rumble of agony, footsteps running toward the saloon door. He pushed himself away from the sideboard and balanced the sword awkwardly in his left hand.
    â€œBack into your room, Abigail,” he shouted as the door burst open.
    He had no time to see if she obeyed. Two men came at him. He parried their thrusts, but he was too off balance to take advantage of any openings. Backing toward the cabins, he tried to lead the men away from Abigail’s door.
    One man rushed forward. Dominic groaned as he jumped back and hit his right arm against the wall. Hearing laughter, he cursed all the mutinous Americans to the deep. He fought to make his eyes focus through the haze of pain. Had more men joined the battle against him, or were his eyes betraying him?
    A shriek brought a curse from one of his attackers. In disbelief, Dominic saw Abigail rush out of her room. She was carrying a chair. She dashed it against the head of one of the men. He collapsed, bumping into his comrade as if they were a stack of cards. Before the American could regain his balance, Dominic drove his blade into the man.
    The motion undid Dominic. He fell to his knees on the deck. Abigail grasped his left arm and helped him to his feet.
    â€œ Merci ,” he muttered as he reached for his sword. It skittered away when the ship lurched with another discharge of the gunpowder stored below.
    â€œForget it!” she cried. She tugged him toward her bedchamber.
    â€œAbigail, we must go.”
    â€œWe are.” She put her arm around his waist and steered him through the door. “The only way we can.” She faltered. “Can you swim?”
    â€œSwim?” He frowned. “I am not leaving this