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couldn’t possibly keep her prisoner now!
    She tried very hard to rise, but the room was spinning.
    The voices came again, this time right outside her doorway. She heard the deep tenor of Jerome McKenzie’s voice as he spoke to whomever stood guard.
    “Miss Magee is sleeping?” he inquired.
    “Like a lamb, Captain.”
    “Take the supply boat back to the
Lady Varina
, then, sailor, and I’ll be along before the crack of dawn. What of the
Maid of Salem
?”
    “She’s headed this way, for a fact. The men caught up with her escort ship, Captain, as you commanded. They grounded her on the shoal, and her captain was a smart enough fellow. He surrendered her quickly—and assured the men that the prey we seek is on the way.”
    “Losses? Injuries?”
    “One Yank killed in the first firing; Jimmy Meyers took a ball in the leg, but it went clean through. He’ll be right as rain soon as he sobers up tomorrow.”
    “The Yanks?”
    “Beached, sir, with water and supplies. O’Hara reckoned as how you’d want to be sending notice they could be picked up by their countrymen
after
we’ve gotten our hands on the
Maid of Salem
.”
    There was silence then. Risa struggled to sit, blinking furiously, shaking her head. Every movement seemed to be a tremendous effort, and she wondered what in God’s name the wretch had given her. She had to make it upand down the hall—and she had to either disappear, or find Ian.
    She managed to stand. It was an enormous feat. She staggered to the door and opened it, and felt a rush of delirious excitement to see that she had indeed been left unguarded. She set a steadying hand upon the wall, and moved at a snail’s pace along the hallway, blinking furiously all the while as great waves of darkness threatened to overwhelm her again and again. Suddenly, she froze.
    A rush of inexplicable tears stung her eyes as she heard Ian’s voice. Pausing in the shadows while looking into the parlor, dimly lit by a dying fire, she could see that Ian stood with Jerome by the coral rock mantel.
    It was easy enough even now to see how she had mistaken Jerome for Ian from the back; the men were of an identical height, broad-shouldered, well-muscled, but lean, lithe, and supple. They were men who had been at war now for two years, hardened by the battles they faced. Yet there was a reddish cast to Jerome McKenzie’s hair, and when he turned, his Indian heritage was quite visible in the strong rise of his cheekbones. Caught in firelight, his was a hauntingly striking face.
    “There is no way that I can express my gratitude,” Ian was telling Jerome.
    Jerome shrugged, and grinned rather awkwardly. “Sometimes blood is thicker than war.”
    Ian nodded, smiling. “Indeed, sometimes blood is thicker than anything. It’s a pity we can’t end it here.”
    “We both know that we can’t,” Jerome said softly.
    “Right,” Ian agreed. “Aunt Teela said that Risa was sleeping. I won’t disturb her; you’ll tell her thank you, from the bottom of my heart?”
    “I’m sure Risa knows how grateful you are.”
    “She’s sailing with you?”
    “So we agreed. I’ll have her to neutral ground just as soon as I’m able.”
    “But Risa, after this … sailing on an enemy ship?”
    “She understands my position here,” Jerome said with a subtly wry note.
    “Ah, Risa would,” Ian said.
    No! Risa wouldn’t! she thought.
    Yet there was a note of sadness about Ian’s voice. Heloved his wife, that Risa knew. Yet once upon a time, he had loved her as well. They had spun dreams of a perfect future together. But that had been the past, so long ago now.
    Ian offered Jerome his hand; Jerome took it in a firm shake. “I’ll say good-bye, then, first,” Ian told Jerome. “I’ve got to let my own men know I’m alive and well. Your folks and Jennifer are tending to Alaina for the few hours I’ll be gone.” He hesitated. “Take care of Risa,” he added softly. “This must be so painful for her, she’s such a