The Pirate's Duty (Regent's Revenge #3)(79)

Something unrecognizable flashed in her eyes.

“Makes no difference now,” Carnage blathered. “Ye’ll be joinin’ your crew in the watery depths soon enough, Cap’n.” He drew dangerously nearer to Oriana, sword in hand.

Walsingham raised his own sword to warn him off.

“Blood is love, Sister,” Carnage said. “Isn’t that what our mother always told us?”

Her gaze locked with Walsingham’s.

“Kill the Regent,” Carnage demanded. “Prove ye are a Thorpe through and through.”

Oriana grabbed the sword out of Walsingham’s hand, and she pointed it at his heart as Girard had taught her. “Ye kept your promise.”

The ship listed as Carnage laughed. “Send him to the hell that spawned him, and we shall talk of gold.”

“Gold,” she repeated somewhat distantly, making Walsingham fear for her soul, “is everything to ye.”

“Aye.” Carnage’s eyes widened and then narrowed. “We’ll share it, ye and me.”

“Don’t listen to him, Oriana.” Walsingham waited for the piercing blow to come. “I love you.”

“Ye know nothing of love.” Oriana turned away from him to face her brother. She reached out her hand, gently rubbing his forearms. “You’re right. It’s time to put our sins to rest. I’ll do it, Brother.”

Christ! Bile rose in Walsingham’s throat. “Didn’t you hear me, Oriana? I cannot live without you.”

“Ye won’t have to,” Carnage said, nodding to Oriana, who appeared to be in a daze. “Our mother fought to keep us together. That’s it,” he added, cajoling her. “Easy now.”

Had Walsingham’s thirst for revenge clouded his emotions and blinded him to Oriana Thorpe? Would she truly kill him?

“No witnesses,” Carnage said, dropping his sword. The steel shank clanked on the deck as he glared at Walsingham victoriously over Oriana’s head. “Go to your grave knowing I outwitted—”

Carnage jerked. Crimson jetted from his mouth, and his eyes bulged out of their sockets. He murmured incoherently, snatching at his neck, clawing at the sword that was protruding from his throat. He gurgled. Stumbled. Reeled backward.

Walsingham tensed and blinked.

“Go back to the hell that spawned ye.” Oriana calmly watched her brother stagger and drop to his knees. “I’ve made my choice, and I choose to love.”

Walsingham’s heartbeat drummed loudly in his ears as footsteps raced toward them. Carnage dropped to the bloody, slippery deck beneath him.

Oriana didn’t shrink away at the gruesome sight. She didn’t even shed a tear as she strutted toward her brother. “That is for Eliza, for your unborn child, for the countless orphans you’ve left behind. No one will steal what is mine,” she ground out. “I found true love, and by the saints, ye shall not rob me of it, too.”

Carnage raised his hand, struggling to draw air, but Oriana turned away and moved into Walsingham’s arms, burying her head into his chest.

“Oriana, please forgive me,” he begged. “As much as I wanted to tell you the truth, I couldn’t reveal my identity to you.”

“Nay.” She pulled away from his chest and shook her head, then leaned back, placing her finger over his lips. “There’s no time for apologies. We must end this before more blood is spilled.”

Men clambered into view. James was the first among the group, which also included a few of his brothers, Jarvis, McHugh, and O’Malley.

“You’re alive, Captain! Saints be praised!” James exclaimed, flicking his sword in a salute.

“We feared ye were dead, Cap’n,” O’Malley added, glaring at Carnage’s now-lifeless form.

Walsingham shook his head. “Dead men can’t die twice, remember?”

Several of his men laughed.

Glancing down at Oriana, his heart swelled with emotion. “Get Oriana and the wounded off the ship. It’s time to end this.”

“Nay,” Oriana said to Walsingham’s surprise. She left his arms to pick up her brother’s sword. “If you’re goin’ to destroy my brother’s ship, I’m goin’ to help ye.”

Walsingham couldn’t help counting his blessings. Carnage was dead. The Windraker’s crew and Girard had been avenged. “Light up this ship, men!”

“Aye, sir.” James bowed to Oriana and then shouted orders to the others. “It’s time for a bonfire! Gather gunpowder and flint. We’re going to set this bird aflame!”

Men scurried down the companionway to the orlop deck, but Walsingham ignored them as he took Oriana’s hand in his and led her to the ladder. “It’s Pierce, by the by.”

“I know.” Brushing her hair out of her face, she avoided his gaze and released a weary sigh as they began to move to the companionway. “But I shall cover my eyes as we make our way to the cutter.”

Confused by her reaction, he stopped to look into her eyes. “You didn’t hear me correctly. I didn’t say it’s fierce, though I agree it isn’t wise for you to witness the slaughter above.” He took her hand in his and kissed her knuckles. “I’d like to introduce myself before we leave this part of our lives behind us. I am Pierce Walsingham, the only son of a viscount, brother to Chloe, Marchioness of Underwood.”