Pirate Code by Helen Hollick

become his wife? She fought the anger down. She could not entertain hatred, for it was an evil brew that could so easily feed upon itself and grow, consuming all within its path with a rapacious, unassuaged appetite. Why had she wed him? Because at the time, she had not dared risk giving away her ability, because at that time her physical strength had been weak and vulnerable – and because she had desperately needed to get here, to Nassau, to help Jesamiah.
    She took several calming breaths, regained her self control, said. “And do you call me too, a thief and a murderer, Stefan?”
    Van Overstratten regarded her with disappointment. Whatever had initially lured him into wanting this woman? She was pretty, but what use were looks if the belly was empty? She gave no pleasure in bed, was as cold as a fish to his touch.
    Tiola guessed what he was thinking. He was not a man to query that perhaps the fault was his own lack of skill. He would have been surprised had he been given the opportunity to witness the intense passion that burnt between herself and Jesamiah during their lovemaking. But then, Jesamiah was a different man entirely. A man who truly understood what it meant to make love; who knew how and where to touch and caress, who knew when to be easy and gentle or to push, hard, and bring that final thrill of consuming ecstasy to its release. Momentarily lost in thought, Tiola smiled.
    Her expression increased the Dutchman’s anger. How dare she look at him so! With contempt, he insulted her; “You, Madam? Nean . I call you whore.”
    Jesamiah lifted his head, sight and senses swimming against the carol of pain; glared at the Dutchman. “Then you will not be wishing to keep her as wife, will you?”
    He glanced at Rogers who was trying his best to bring law and order to these pirate-riddled Caribbean waters. He would not succeed. He was too indecisive, wanting to please all sides at once, and Rogers assumed all men followed the unwritten code of honour and unswerving loyalty. He was unaware that chivalry had vanished centuries ago. If it had ever truly existed. But Jesamiah also conceded that Rogers had integrity, faith and guts; he held fast to his personal beliefs whatever carnage was happening around him. Even if he failed here in Nassau, Jesamiah admired him for at least caring enough to try.
    Pushing himself, with effort, and with a strength of fortitude that came from God-alone knew where, from Rue’s supporting arm, Jesamiah stood as straight as he could. If nothing else, Rogers was a man of his word.
    “Can you assure me, Governor, that you will see to it that Tiola is set free of her marriage bond? If I come tomorrow, will you give me her divorce?”
    For his part, Rogers knew his limitations and his fallibilities. He also admired bravery; what Acorne had done here today was foolish, but undoubtedly brave. To expose your back purposefully for a flogging to save a woman’s honour placed this rogue high in the Governor’s esteem. He knew, full well, that had he been called upon to do such a thing for his own wife she would have been abandoned to a flogging.
    Ignoring the Dutchman’s snort of contempt Rogers confirmed, “You have my word, Acorne.” When van Overstratten began to splutter a protest, Rogers hushed him with a flap of his hand. Repeated, “Ye have m’word.”
    Suppressing a wince, Jesamiah nodded at him. “Then I will be there.”
    With a snarl of disapproval Rue shoved Rogers aside and walked Jesamiah away, Isiah at his side, urging Tiola to hurry; others of the crew, young Jasper, old toothless Toby, Finch and Jansy going ahead, shouldering a clear path to the jetty and the waiting longboat. Men already seated there were slipping the oars, the blades feathering the swell of the sea.
    In the stern, Tiola carefully took Jesamiah in her arms and as the oarsmen gave way and pulled for the ship, cradled his head into her shoulder to mask the moan of pain that escaped him. His body was