her was none other than Captain Logan Dashwood.
He gave her a lazy smile. “The one and only,” he said.
Suddenly furious, Elle found her feet and yanked her elbow out of Heller’s grasp. “How dare you steal the
Water Lily
!” she shouted at him. “Dr. Bell is likely to die because of you!”
Dashwood sat back in his chair. “My dear Mrs. Marsh, if I recall correctly, you stole the
Iron Phoenix
off me in Amsterdam. You had no compunction about leaving me stranded with my crew at that point. We could have died too, you know.”
“There was no shooting. No one got hurt!” she said. “I won that fair and square,”
“Oh no you didn’t. You never let on that you were gifted by the Shadow. Took me for all I had, if I recall rightly.”
“You were the one who was cheating.” Elle lurched at him, the intention to kill upon her, but Heller had grabbed hold of her and dragged her back.
“Easy now. That’s no way to address a captain, now is it?” he said.
“Let go of me, you hairy gorilla.” Elle spat.
Dashwood sat back in his seat, enjoying the spectacle. “It’s all right, Heller. Let her be.”
Heller set Elle back onto her feet. She straightened her coat and glared at him.
He shrugged and ambled up to the doorway where heleaned against the door, crossed his arms, and regarded Elle with hard eyes, slightly narrowed.
At well over six foot and with a chest as broad as an oak, this was not a man she wished to tangle with, she realized.
“Not only did you steal my beautiful ship, you then crashed her into the ground near Battersea,” Dashwood said, drawing her attention back to him.
“I was not flying her and you know it,” Elle said.
Dashwood was right though. He and Ducky Richardson—one of her oldest friends—had come to lend their assistance at the Battersea spark monastery in London during her attempt to rescue Marsh from the lair of the Lady in White. The rigging of the
Iron Phoenix
had become entangled with another ship, with disastrous consequences. Both had crashed into the ground, causing untold damage.
“Does Ducky even know you’re a—a pirate?” Elle said.
“Oh yes. In fact he’s been on a few raids with me,” Dashwood said smoothly. “I think he quite enjoys the excitement of it all.”
“And what about Dr. Bell? What did she ever do to you to deserve this?”
Dashwood’s face colored for a second. “Look, I am sorry about your friend. My men had orders to take you alive and unhurt. You shouldn’t have opened fire on us. Accidents happen.”
“And you think that justifies your actions?” Elle said, horrified at his glib attempt at shifting the blame.
He sat forward, his eyes suddenly intensely blue. “You gave the lady a shotgun instead of surrendering like you should have.
You
are the one with blood on your hands, Mrs. Marsh. Not me.”
Elle stared at him in disbelief. There was no point inarguing with him. “Can I see her, please?” she said, changing tactics.
Dashwood nodded. “Heller, take her to the infirmary. My surgeon is doing all he can, but she’s in a bad way. You may go and say goodbye.” He stepped closer to Elle and regarded her with a look of concern. “Perhaps you should ask the doc to look you over too. That is quite a bruise you have on your chin.” He ran his finger gently over the place where the rope had caught her earlier.
Elle flinched and turned away. “I am perfectly well, thank you very much. I do not need your sympathy, especially since none of this would have happened had it not been for you. Mark my words, this is not over Captain Dashwood.”
Dashwood started laughing. “Oh, you are quite right. You and I have many things to discuss in the coming days.”
The infirmary was painted a sickly shade of light green. Patches of rust bloomed up and down the metalwork. In one of the bunks, tucked away behind a canvas curtain on the far end of the infirmary, Elle found Dr. Bell.
“Gertrude,” she whispered. “Just stay