Read Online A Brother's Honor by Jo Ann Ferguson - Free Book Online Page A

rain fell in earnest. Now anyone else who reached shore from the ship had a chance to hide, too.
    But what if you and Dominic and Dandy are the only survivors?
    She sighed, wishing that thought had remained silent. Hanging her head over her knees, she stared out at the sea that was now the same black as the night sky. So many had died. She was not sure for what purpose.
    The wind wheezed at Abigail, spinning the hem of her nightdress about her legs. When the wind rose to a shriek, she huddled under the branches and pulled them closer to her and Dominic. Her cat slipped in to sit behind her to escape the storm.
    Dominic moaned.
    â€œAre you awake?” she whispered.
    She got no answer. Tearing another strip from his shirt, she wrapped it around his head. The other one was already stained crimson. She did not know how much blood he had lost, but she doubted that he would live if it continued to seep out of him at this rate.
    â€œPlease wake up,” she whispered.
    Lightning seared the sky. Abigail moaned and, hiding her face in her hands, huddled next to him.
    When Dandy curled up near her chest, she put her arms around him. How she wished someone was holding her. “Please wake up, Dominic,” she whispered again, more desperately.
    Why didn’t he open his eyes? The thunder was loud enough to wake the dead. In horror, she stared at the shore.
    Waves, which had been gentle strokes on the beach, began to crash with a vengeance. She did not know what would happen to the unburied bodies. Fearfully she prayed they would not rise to haunt her. She closed her eyes as she imagined the faceless man crossing the sand.
    She flinched at a tap on the leaves overhead, but it was only rain. Her shaky laugh filled the rough shelter. The worst of the thunder’s fury soon would be past.
    She had survived it!
    A drop striking her head cut short her celebration. When she looked upward, another fell on her nose. She glanced at Dominic. The rain was taking no pity on his helpless condition. Reaching beneath her, she grasped some green ferns. She held them over his head like an umbrella.
    Drawing her knees up, she balanced her elbow on them. She frowned when her elbow struck something in the sash of her wrapper. She pulled out the pistol. Sweet heavens! She had forgotten it while rescuing Dominic and facing the tempest’s fury.
    â€œYou continue to be trouble, Dominic,” she said, although he could not hear her words. “But when you wake up, it will be different. I promise you that. I am not your captive any longer.” She laughed again as she ran her finger along the pistol’s barrel. “You shall be mine.”

Chapter Six
    Dominic St. Clair’s first thought when his senses returned after an infinite eternity of darkness was an oath that did not reach his lips. Pain cut through him. He was not sure where he was injured, because his agony was too powerful and too pervasive. Every bit of his body ached. The anguish began in his head and radiated down him. His right arm was on fire, and his right ankle throbbed.
    He cursed again, although the sound never left his mind. The last time he had ached like this was when he and his then partner Evan Somerset had nearly died while smuggling an early Renaissance painting out of Florence. His only consolation as he had spent a month healing was that those who had attempted to halt them had suffered more.
    Had they been jumped again? He dismissed that thought. He and Evan had parted ways several years ago when they had disagreed about accepting a commission to steal another piece of art. Evan had warned it was a trap, and it had been. Dominic had escaped with his life and his crew’s, but his ship had been sunk. His despair at losing that ship had been eased when he obtained La Chanson de la Mer after he promised to serve Napoleon as a privateer near the English coast.
    It had not been as interesting a life as smuggling art. Yet he had vowed to serve