Charles could still taste Emma on his lips as he lay down in one of the hammocks later on that night below deck. It was driving him mad with lust. It had taken all of his self-control not to stand and take her in that moment, but he'd been too proud. He wanted her to come to him. He wasn't going to make it easy for her to blame him should she change her mind otherwise, but as he lay there thinking about it, he felt guilty for thinking of her the way he would Eleanor.

  Things with Eleanor had always been on her terms. It had infuriated him, but still, he'd thought he'd loved her. Now he wondered if he'd just been caught up in her. She was a formidable woman. An equal to any man he had come across, but there was something in the way she treated those around her that had left him empty of feeling for her now. She was righteous, but for all the wrong reasons. She'd proved that when she had taken the Carolina girl from him. Kidnapping and ransoming people was part of the pirate trade, and perhaps if Eleanor had offered a ransom, he might have taken it, but she had chosen to betray him and leave him for dead instead.

  That and siding with her father had been the end of it for Charles. He didn't even feel sorrow over ending the man's life. Nor at the loss of Eleanor. He actually looked forward to stepping back onto Nassau's coast and smiling up at her as she glared down at him from her lofty perch.

  He stopped himself from thinking of Nassau and its woes and instead refocused on the beautiful redhead he had the opportunity of pleasing earlier this morning.

  He wondered if she had already gone to sleep. Knowing her, she was probably awake like him. He wondered if she would try to sneak out again. After this morning, would she be more or less likely to try? He knew he needed sleep. He knew he'd only had a few hours of it over the last few days, but like a siren's call, he was drawn to the captain's quarters.

  He didn't know whether he should be surprised or not when he found who was standing there instead.

  Flint.

  “This is becoming a problem, Charles.” The man told him.

  “Why? What does it matter to you so much what I do with her?”

  “I know you,” Flint said.

  “No, you don't.”

  “What has happened between you and Eleanor?” Flint asked his question without hesitation.

  “Don't fucking say her name to me.” Charles snarled.

  “What happened, Charles?”

  “You really have to ask that question? She betrayed me, for you. She took the Carolina girl. I gave her a choice in the tunnel. She chose wrong. She paid the price for it.”

  “What have you done, Charles?” Flint snarled as he came closer.

  “I did what I had to do.” Charles barked back.

  “When are you going to get it through that thick skull of yours that whatever you do on that island affects us all? I have a plan, Charles.”

  “You've always had a plan!” Charles shot back. “Ever since I've known you, it's all you have ever spouted on about, but you've never told a single person your fucking plan, and so far, as I've seen, it hasn't happened yet. So why the hell would I even listen to you now?”

  “Because now we have sent a message, Charles. They have seen what we can do.” Flint told him. “Thanks to you.”

  Flint had choked out the words like he didn't want to admit them. He was, in a sense, thanking Charles for what he had done. Flint wasn't the type to throw around gratification, so Charles kept quiet rather than boast about the words Flint had just said.

  “I need you for this revolution, Charles, but I have seen you do dangerous things for a woman. I need to know that will not happen before I let this go.”

  “It won't,” Charles told him.

  “That is not enough,” Flint warned.

  “You're doubting my word?” Charles was insulted.

  “I want a treaty, Charles. You, me, Rackham. I want a treaty in place for Nassau and her future.”

  “So, this had nothing to do with the woman at all?” Charles should have known Flint had alternate plans.

  “It's got everything to do with her. You brought her on board on impulse. You say you want her, but will you do for her what you did for Eleanor? Will you betray me? Will you betray her?” Flint argued.

  In truth, Charles didn't know. He knew he'd never let a woman treat him the way Eleanor did again, but did that mean that he'd betray her? No one could predict the future or the outcome of all of this. Charles was always ready for a fight, but perhaps having people at his back would not be so bad for once. After all he'd had that once.

  “What are the terms of this treaty?”

  “Share the treasure. Share this ship, but use both to protect Nassau.”

  “That simple?” Charles remarked.

  “And you tell me what happened on Nassau after I left.”

  “Always a catch with you.” Charles chuckled darkly. “Fine. I'll tell you. I killed Richard Guthrie. I left his body in the fort for Eleanor to find.”

  “Charles,” Flint growled.

  “Did you really think I wasn't going to retaliate for her betraying me?” Charles told the man.

  “An eye for an eye.” Flint seethed as he shook his head.

  “She was going to betray you. Did you know she was planning something with her father?”

  By the look on Flint's face, Charles knew that man had no idea what she was planning.

  “She may have given you the girl, but she planned to steal the entire island from you, just like she stole from me. All so she could be Daddy's little girl again.”

  “Then we have even more reason to secure this treaty before we return to whatever Nassau has in store for us.”

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  “We do whatever we want with our portions of the gold?” Charles asked about his concern.

  “We secure an amount for the recovery of Nassau as well as portions for the group,” Flint stated. “Without Nassau, we wouldn't be able to keep the gold safe.”

  It was true enough.

  “Can we agree on the issue?” Flint asked.

  Charles didn't need to think about it. He wanted Nassau to be free just like Flint did. So, he nodded.

  “Good, now we can discuss whatever this is.” Flint motioned towards the captain's quarters.

  Charles knew he was speaking about Emma.

  “Shouldn't fucking matter to you,” Charles stated plainly.

  “But it does.” Flint scowled. “Have you given this a single thought? What will Eleanor think?”

  “I don't care what the fuck Eleanor thinks anymore.” Charles snarled his response.

  “Really? You don't think it will matter to Eleanor? You've killed her father. You don't think she'll want to retaliate? What if she goes after Emma, Charles? You've got plenty more enemies who will do the same if she doesn't.”

  “I thought I was supposed to have partners now?” Charles pushed the issue of the treaty Flint seemed to want just moments ago.

  “Does that mean you'd accept my advice for once?” Flint seemed skeptical.

  “Maybe.” Charles wasn't fully trusting of anyone, but if Flint really wanted this treaty, then maybe he would help Charles in this one matter.

  “Out with it.” Charles finally stated with a wave of his hand.

  “If you actually care for her at all, keep her secret, or better yet, don't get involved at all.” Flint's idea was a simple one.

  “You want me to hide her away like you did your Barlow woman?” Charles joked.

  It was like Charles had flipped a switch in Flint with the mention of the woman's name. Flint charged forward, arm cocked and ready to strike Charles. Charles managed to dodge the blow, but as he dodged three more, he found it interesting that Flint, who had just asked for a treaty, would have snapped so easily.

  Something deep within Flint had come to the surface. Something Charles hadn't meant to bring to light, but it was here now. Charles started to return fists. It wasn't the first time the pair had fought. It probably wouldn't be the last, but this was different.

  As the shuffle became something more, Charles could do nothing but defend himself. Even though Charles was only dealing damage when necessary, Flint had become a wild man. When the fight escalated, it caught the attention of those on board, and it took several men to separate the pair.

  Silver and Emma appeared among the men. The moment Flint's eyes fell on Emma, he bolted forward and grabbed her arm and started towards the quarters, almost dragging her behind him.

  “Flint, you're hurting me.” Emma pleaded with him as he did.

  The moment Charles heard she was in pain, he pushed his way through the men and grabbed hold of Flint's shoulder, turned him around, and punched him square in the face. Flint then barreled into Charles like a bull, and the pair were back at it again. This time, Charles took Flint to the ground, and the men flipped and punched each other until blood was drawn. When they collided with some of the other men, Charles heard glass smash, and a moment later, the last word you ever wanted to hear on a ship was hollered.

  “FIRE!”

  It was the thing that ended the fight as both men sprang apart and took action, but that was when Charles noticed Emma was flicking her skirt around. The fabric of her gown had caught fire and was starting to burn. Charles moved faster than he had ever moved in his life and ran to Emma and tackled her to the ground. He leapt back up the moment she was down and began to stomp on her dress. She remained perfectly still as if knowing what he was doing, and he had the flame out with a few good stomps. When he was sure it was dead, he held his hand to help her up.

  She accepted and let him help her to her feet, but he didn't stay still. He took hold of her arm and led her away.

  “Charles!” Flint shouted after him.

  Charles didn't stop. He knew the fight wasn't over. He made his way to the deck. He drew his sword along the way, and when he turned back to the doorway leading below, he tucked Emma behind him. Flint came out of the darkness below with eyes on fire. Charles wasn't afraid of him. He might be the only one besides Silver who wasn't.

  “Whatever happened between you and the Barlow woman is your fucking business, but you will not touch Emma again. Understood?” Charles warned Flint with his blade held high.

  Flint measured Charles as he began to circle him. Charles kept him at bay by moving with him. He also kept his other arm out so he could keep Emma moving with him.

  “If she wants you, she can have you.” Flint finally growled roughly.

  At first, what Flint might have said would seem insulting, but it was another treaty. This one was silent, though. It meant that if, for any reason, Emma didn't want Charles, the fight would be continued.

  With the deal struck, Flint looked at the men who had gathered.

  “What are you all staring at?” Flint shouted at his men as if there had been no reason for them to have gathered at all.

  Whatever Charles had found buried had gone dormant again. Charles hoped it stayed there, but he suspected this was not the last time they would see that side of Flint. Something was going on with the man, but Charles had something else to concentrate on at the moment.

  Charles turned to Emma.

  “Are you alright?” He asked as he put his hands on her shoulders.

  “Shouldn't I be asking you that?” She said as she looked him over. “You're bleeding.”

  “I'll be fine.”

  “What was all that about?” Emma asked, reaching for a cut that must have opened on his cheek.

  “You,” Charles answered bluntly.

  “Me? Why would you fight about me?” Emma asked, her eyebrows raised in surprise.

  “So, I can do this,” Charles stated before he drew her close and kissed her.

  Her body went rigid with surprise, and she refused to relax, but he'd made his point, so he backed off a moment later. Emma wasn't angry, but she glanced around nervously at the other men on the ship, and her cheeks blushed.

  She wasn't comfortable with the display of affection in the presence of the other men. That was alright. The things Charles wanted to do to her were better in private anyway. Right now, it wasn't the time, though. He didn't have a reason to seduce her.

  He didn't want her to go back to the captain's quarters and allow Flint to plant seeds of doubt, though, so he asked her a question.

  “Will you tend to me?” He asked about her care for his wounds. Being close to her would be enough for now, and if she saw he could show restraint, it might make her more at ease with him.

  She nodded her head. “We should ask Howell for the supplies.”

  The pair made their way below deck to find Howell and Emma, who got a few scraps of fabric and some fresh water to clean the scraps on Charles. She asked him to sit on one of the stacks of boxes that were piled up in a tucked-away corner of the ship they had found so that they wouldn't be in anyone's way.

  She didn't ask him to, but Charles stripped himself of his shirt before she started her work. He enjoyed the blush that he could see on her cheeks, even despite the dim light from the lantern, but then her eyes fell on his chest to the mark just over his heart—the brand.

  “I was born a slave.” He confesses to her.

  She looked up at him with a look he never wanted to see on someone's face. Pity.

  “My father kept slaves. The way he treated them.” She could barely get the sentence out, but she did. “I freed a few mothers and children, but it wasn't enough.”

  She bit her lip, and he knew it was because she was trying to keep herself from crying. She didn't like slavery, that much was clear, but she'd fought for them. It's probably the reason she earned a few scars on her back. Charles admired her all the more now.

  “I killed him,” Charles told her. “My master.”

  Instead of fearing him, she smirked at him.

  “I'm not surprised,” she told him. “It explains your need for freedom.”

  Charles nodded.

  “You'd free them all if you could, wouldn't you?” She asked the question after they had been quiet for a few moments.

  Charles nodded again.

  “So would I.”

  Charles couldn't help it. He stood, gathered her in his arms, and kissed her. For the first time, she didn't fight it. She gave in completely. Charles had to fight back the carnal desire that told him to take her, back her up against the wall, lift her legs, and bury himself deeply. She was a Lady, which meant shit to him as far as titles went. What he cared about was that it meant she was a virgin. Taking her so harshly on her first time might be more painful than pleasurable. He didn't want to give her a reason to regret her lovemaking.

  So, he backed off woefully, just as before.

  Coming out of the kiss, she looked half in a daze, and that was enough to satisfy Charles for now. He stepped away from her and put his shirt back on.

  “You should get some rest. It's still early in the morning. You've got a few hours to sleep.” Charles told her.

  She nodded slowly in her agreement.

  “Goodnight, Charles.”

  “Goodnight.”

  He watched her go and almost changed his mind when she paused to look back at him, but he kept control, and when she was out of sight, he cleaned himself up the rest of the way before he went to get some rest himself.