He wore a baldric of blades and pistols over his shoulder. A cutlass hung from straps of leather around his waist. My father’s black jackboots covered his feet, and leather braces adorned his forearms. My examination traveled over the snug brown breeches and loose black shirt before landing on the compass.

My compass.

Wedged beneath his waistband and secured to his many belts, it was a glorious shock to the heart. I thought I’d never see it again, yet there it was. Safe. Whole. Precious. Impossible to replace. Just like my husband.

He hadn’t moved from the doorway, his rugged physique so stiff and hard it was as if the sight of me had turned him to stone.

His intense gaze held mine. His breaths came faster, and in that sublime moment of eye contact, everything felt right in the world. With Ashley at my side and Priest armed to the teeth, I knew we would survive this. All three of us.

But those thoughts evaporated the instant Priest turned his attention on Ashley.

Priest’s countenance clouded, his entire demeanor taking on that of a stranger. He seemed taller somehow, broader, his shoulders rolling back into a fighting stance. Why? Did he recognize Ashley as the pirate hunter who had taken me into custody? He couldn’t have known about my intimate relationship with Ashley.

The creases about his mouth and brow confessed nothing. Was it anger? Suspicion? Resentment? He normally expressed his feelings so clearly on his face, but this wasn’t anything I could interpret.

He’s not who you think he is.

Thank you, Ashley, for planting that seed of doubt. Now I wondered if they knew each other.

Ashley was probably spinning on his carefully controlled axis, wondering why the Feral Priest was hunting me.

What a monumental disaster.

Movement pulled my attention to the man beside Priest, and I shuddered.

Captain Madwulf MacNally stood with his boots braced shoulder-width apart, his hands clasped behind him, and his eyes ticking between Priest and Ashley. Intelligence fired in those eyes, and that scared me more than the brace of weapons he wore across his chest.

It didn’t matter how much help he’d received in his escape from the hold. The fact was he’d managed it. He’d broken out, seized command of a Royal Navy ship of the line, and sank HMS Ludwig with both the admiral and the commodore on board.

This wasn’t a man I wanted as an enemy, but I’d foolishly cemented that given how my hands were bound, my mouth was gagged, and he was staring at me with a look one would give a smear of manure on the bottom of a boot.