Part 7 (1/2)
Gabriella b.u.mped into her. ”Angelica?”
Angelica quickly silenced her by pressing a finger over her lips.
The next words were m.u.f.fled, the tone sharp and furious, until distinct French phrases rushed up at her.
”...We'll show them what happens when they cross one of our own, Captain. They will see what the Black Demon is capable of... Slit every last one of their worthless throats!”
Her blood froze, chilled by the ominous words.
”Captain, if they thought the Black Demon and his men were cold-hearted pirates before, wait until they see what h.e.l.l we shall unloose upon them now.”
She recoiled. Dear G.o.d... Simon de Villette was involved with pirates.
He was the leader of these men. He was the Black Demon? No, it couldn't be. He was an officer in the royal navy. Wasn't he? A sick feeling slid down into her stomach as she realized he'd never actually told her he was in the King's Navy.
Oh why? He'd been so...incredible. His touch, his words, his actions, he'd shown her the concern and consideration she hadn't realized she'd lacked in her life.
The image of his attractive face, those gorgeous eyes, his beguiling smile, appeared in her mind. As did the memory of his strong arms around her. Fool. Fool. Fool! He was a fraud. A lie. Too good to be true. She tamped down the ridiculous sense of loss.
They were in the company of criminals.
They had to get away. Now. Angelica squeezed her friend's hand. ”These men are not what they appear. They're pirates!” she said in a sharp whisper.
”Pirates?”
”Yes!”
”No, I cannot believe it.” Gabriella shook her head. ”The captain? Domenico?”
”I just heard them.”
Her friend's eyes widened. ”Are you certain? I heard nothing...”
”Yes! Dear G.o.d, yes.”
Gabriella stepped back, horrified; her leg b.u.mped a chair, causing it to sc.r.a.pe across the floor. The sound resonated in the long corridor. Footsteps immediately followed. The dining hall door was s.n.a.t.c.hed open.
Angelica's stomach dropped.
A large man glared at them from the threshold. Gabriella slapped her hand over her mouth, a sorry attempt to stifle her cry.
Simon stepped around the man and into the hallway. He approached, his dark brows knitted together, his vivid eyes fixed on Angelica. Dressed in a white s.h.i.+rt and black breeches, he had never looked more like an outlaw.
Gabriella began to weep softly into her hands. Though it didn't take much to bring her dear friend to tears, this was no time for histrionics.
Angelica threw her arms around her friend. ”There now, Gabriella, you need not cry.” With a fixed smile on her lips and her heart in her throat, Angelica turned to Simon as he approached. ”Good day, Simon.”
”Good day. Is everything all right?” He eyed Gabriella, softly sobbing on her shoulder.
”Yes, of course. Gabriella is so relieved to see me in good health and out of bed, she's been moved to tears. We're both so happy to see each other. Is that not so, Gabriella?” She gave her a small pinch on the arm.
Gabriella jerked up. Angelica looked into her watery eyes and silently commanded her to cease her tears. Gabriella faced Simon with great trepidation.
”Yes, I'm...ha-happy.” She offered him a miserable smile.
”Dieu.” A dark-haired man walked up behind Simon. ”She doesn't look happy,” he murmured in French. Then to Gabriella he said in Italian, ”Gabriella, your friend is correct. There's no need for tears. We discussed her recovery yesterday, during our walk in the gardens, remember?” Clearly, this was the man Domenico, whom Gabriella had talked about.
At the mention of the walk in the gardens, Gabriella was back to sobbing into her hands. More men began exiting the dining hall, making the corridor feel smaller. They circled like predators. Angelica felt as though she and Gabriella were the prey.
Her smile still frozen on her face, Angelica slid a protective arm around Gabriella's shoulder. ”I'm sorry. We seem to have disturbed you. We'll return to our chambers now.”
She turned and escorted Gabriella down the hall, praying they couldn't hear her heart thundering.
”Angelica?” She tensed at the sound of her name, every muscle in her body poised for flight. It was Simon.
Leader of sea-bandits.
Hearing her name from him this time didn't have the same tantalizing effect. Swallowing down her terror, she turned to face him. He strode past her and opened the door to the library. ”Please, come in.”
Angelica lowered her arm and exchanged looks with Gabriella. Her friend's eyes were big and full of fear. Filled with her own dread, Angelica clasped her friend's hand and led her into the room.
Simon and Domenico entered after them.
Simon stopped before her. His size and muscled form had never been more intimidating. She desperately hoped he couldn't read in her eyes the horror she felt inside.
”I don't believe you've met Domenico Dragani. He is a commander of one of my s.h.i.+ps,” he said.
She exchanged polite greetings with the man; all the while, her mind raced. How were they going to get out of here?
”Are you certain nothing is amiss?” Simon asked.
How could his concern appear so sincere? How could he be so proficient at duplicity? Because he is a criminal.
She looked away briefly, needing to break the connection with his gaze, when she noticed a small, blank parchment on the desk.
An idea came to her.
”Actually”-she glanced at both men-”there is something amiss. Gabriella isn't feeling well.”
Gabriella gasped. Angelica squeezed her hand to silence her.
”She isn't?” Domenico stepped forward, studying Gabriella closely.
Gabriella looked down at her feet, unable to meet his eyes.
”Yes,” Angelica answered for her. ”It seems she's been having stomach pains. They come and go.” She squeezed her hand harder. Gabriella's attention shot back up to her. Upon making eye contact with her friend, Angelica said, ”When the pain hits, it's quite terrible. Even worse than the time she was to go to the village with Madre Paola.”