The Pirate's Duty (Regent's Revenge #3)(77)

“Came as soon as we could, Cap’n,” Jarvis said, stabbing the man on Walsingham’s left, who held his other wrist.

Jarvis cut Walsingham’s bindings. “What are your orders, sir?”

“Rally the men and capture Carnage,” Walsingham said. “We must protect Miss Thorpe.”

“Aye, sir.” Jarvis waved to McHugh, and the two men followed Walsingham across the deck.

The large, heaving mass of fighting pirates thinned as Carnage’s crew became outnumbered, whether by death, surrender, or jumping ship. The deck was slickened with blood as Walsingham fought his way to Oriana, spinning to the side to avoid a blow that narrowly missed his neck.

He searched the swarming throng until he caught sight of her. She was stumbling and tripping in her attempts to flee Carnage, and in one heartrending moment, she fell to the deck, disappearing from view.

“Oriana!” he screamed.

Suddenly, she reappeared. A member of his crew, Dark Bart, rushed to her side, grabbing her by the shoulders and leading her to safety.

Carnage chased after them, and Walsingham’s heart hammered against his ribs, creating an infuriating tightness that cut off the air to his lungs. “Oriana!” he called out again.

“John?” She turned, hearing her name, and searched for him on the crowded deck. Their eyes met and locked with an intensity he’d never forget. All at once, he was assaulted by feelings so powerful he could no longer deny them. Christ, was it possible he loved Oriana?

“Run!” His throat felt gritty and dry as he shouted to her. Then his heart stopped, his stomach churning, as her brother got closer to her. “Look out!”

Panic clawed up his spine as Carnage struck down Dark Bart, then reached out and snatched Oriana by the arm. He dragged her to the companionway, hacking down anyone who came near them. His maniacal laughter pierced Walsingham’s fraught nerves as he watched Carnage haul the woman he loved belowdecks.

Determined to follow, Walsingham scaled the dead, pilfered another sword, and leaped past several fighting men as he hurried to the hatch.

What had corrupted men like Corbet and Carnage? Gold? Notoriety? Had Walsingham been so different in his days as an excise man, intent on making a name for himself and doing his duty? In fact, he’d lost everything because of his sense of duty—his family, his identity. He couldn’t lose Oriana, too.

Thrusting his sword in front of him, he stepped down through the coaming and descended the companionway ladder to the gundeck.

“Kill me, if ye dare!” Oriana yelled angrily.

“Ye deserve to be cobbed in the head for tauntin’ me.” Carnage’s temper exploded. “This would never have happened if ye hadn’t betrayed me. Yer own kin!”

Carnage raised his sword, ready to cleave her in two. Veins in his face and arms were bulging as he cackled. It seemed as if he was possessed.

Walsingham bolted in front of Oriana. He blocked the blow with both his swords, an ear-splitting shriek erupting from the steel. “Drop your sword,” Walsingham growled.

Carnage’s laughter died a swift death as they stared into each other’s eyes. “Ye!”

“I won’t let you harm her.” Walsingham was finally confronting his nemesis, a man who’d tried to kill his sister, a man who wouldn’t stop wreaking havoc until he expended his last breath, or Chloe was dead. He shoved Carnage back several feet.

“Is this how ye repay me, Oriana?” Carnage spat. “Falling in love with a revenue man? The Black Regent?”

“What are ye talking about, Charles?” Oriana asked.

“Men like him killed our father, our brothers,” he argued, his reasoning seriously flawed. His family had deserved to die for wrecking ships, drowning survivors, and plundering cargo. “He’s taken everythin’ from me. My gold. My ship. This ship!”

“No, Charles.” Oriana touched Walsingham’s arm, staying partially hidden behind him. “Your hatred has made ye daft. This is John Hunt. Can ye not see? The Black Regent is fightin’ above us.”

“John Hunt, eh?” Carnage glowered at Walsingham and laughed, seeing things Oriana could not. “The Regent has cost me plenty, but at least, this once, I’ll get the last laugh. He—” he pointed at Walsingham “—is a liar. Just like me. A pirate, a no-good thief, and a murderer.”

Her body trembled, and she shook her head. “John’s not like ye. He’s a fisherman.”

“Is that what he said to get under your skirts?” He was depraved even to the point of misguiding his sister, and his voice deepened with satanic fury. “Ask him what ship he seeks to avenge.” Her fingers dug into Walsingham’s arm, but she didn’t respond. “Ask him!” Carnage shouted.

“He’s a lugger.” Oriana’s devotion warmed Walsingham’s heart. He’d told her he’d been a revenue man, he’d kept her from learning his real name, and still she defended him.

“A lugger?” Carnage mimicked and then spit at Walsingham’s feet. “Stop your caterwaulin’ and think, ye fool. His ship was a cutter—a revenue cutter I sank in Talland Bay.”

Walsingham heard her gasp, but he didn’t break his concentration. Instead, he kept his gaze trained on Carnage. The bastard was still holding his sword. His rant was meant to distract them.