His features sharpened and pinched through a squall of resisting emotions before settling into comprehension. He couldn’t argue the glaring truth.

As long as Priest lived, he would hunt me with the ferocity of my greatest enemy.

Once Jade made her escape to safer waters, Reynolds would help Priest lay siege to another ship—a merchantier, a faster, stealthier sloop, anything he could use to pursue me—knowing I didn’t want Jade anywhere near HMS Blitz.

As Reynolds came to this conclusion, reluctant acceptance softened his mouth, and he released a heavy breath.

“Notify the crew,” I said without moving the telescope from my face.

He squeezed my hip, the gesture hidden beneath the gunwale. Then he ambled across the ship, delivering quiet, resolute orders to the men.

Forty yards to starboard, Lord Cutler watched every move through his glass. Perhaps he would reflect on this moment later and decide that this was the point when Reynolds rallied my crew into mutiny behind my back.

“Jobah.” I stared straight ahead, mirroring his pose. “If this doesn’t work…” If I die…

“I’ll make sure nothing happens to him.”

Him. The husband I loathed to love. The libertine who would risk his life to find me.

“Man the helm,” I replied in my captain’s voice.

“I already miss you, Captain.”

“Likewise.” My heart pinched as I glanced at him sidelong, letting him see the gratitude in my eyes. “Godspeed, my friend.”

Without a show of emotion, he retreated, leaving me alone with my rioting nerves.

Jumping into the sea from the rail of a galleon was a risk in and of itself. I could die on impact or lose consciousness and drown before the enemy boat reached me. Nevertheless, I had faith in my ability to swim.

If I kept my head above the swells long enough, Lord Cutler’s soldiers would pull me out.

If I survived the jump, I would become a captive aboard His Majesty’s Ship. Whether I could endure that hell and evade the hempen halter at the end depended on my will to live and the indomitable, possessive fury of Priest Farrell.

Without turning around, I sensed Jobah at the helm, awaiting my signal. Behind me, seamen carried on as if nothing were amiss.

For their mutiny to appear authentic, I needed the participation of the entire ship. So I waited a few more minutes, giving Reynolds enough time to quietly pass along orders, preparing the men for the subterfuge.

Then I exchanged the spyglass for the speaking trumpet and jumped up onto the gunwale.

Near the stern of HMS Blitz, rowers and lieutenants began to descend the ladder to the jolly boat.

“Advance no further, impotent Puritans!” I yelled at them across the waves. “Or your livers will bleed on the end of my cutlass!”