"Then what are we going to do?"

Lock slowed Sea Storm as they approached the gypsy camp. He didn't now how he could have missed them before, but they were probably still packing away their stalls in the market while he was searching the countryside.

"h.e.l.lo!" he shouted as he approached. A tall, heavyset older man walked toward him, a woman with piercing gray eyes at his side. The woman stared at him hard, but Lock ignored her glare and said, "I'm looking for a woman."

"That's one thing we don't sell." The woman lifted her chin. "If you want wh.o.r.es, go to the pier-"

"I'm not looking for a wh.o.r.e. I'm looking for my betrothed." Lock ignored the woman's smirk. "She's about as tall as that old man over there. Blond hair, blue eyes, very beautiful."

The woman laughed. "She's probably a toothless, freckle-faced hag."

Lock resisted the urge to dump the woman in the nearest mud pile. Instead he glanced at the others. "Has anyone seen a woman who fits that description?"

The tall man shrugged. "There are many yellow-haired women."

"She's missing part of her left ear."

"Did you bite it off?" The annoying woman continued. "She's probably running away from you."

The woman's words struck him like a fist. Though he hadn't bitten Sparrow's ear, he felt responsible. He'd taken her from a happy life into a world of violence and greed. She's asked him to leave the Lady Fire, but he wanted the power of commanding a pirate ship. He'd wanted it more than he'd wanted her...

"Perhaps she's lost in the woods," someone suggested.

"Or maybe she took the ferry upriver."

"Or-"

"Thanks." Lock dismounted. "Mind if I have a look around?"

"Who do you think you are?" The woman placed her hands on her hips. "You get out of here!"

"Mita," the man held open his hands, "let him look. We've nothing to hide. All we need is for a rumor spread that we've had something to do with a missing woman and it will ruin our sales at the market." He glanced at Lock. "Come. I'll show you around our settlement."

Lock nodded and followed the man around the wagons and caravans. The man even allowed him to look inside. Lock was suspicious of such cooperation, but he saw no sign of Sparrow.

In spite of a camp full of raised eyebrows, he knelt down and inspected the bottom of the wagons and caravans. Several times he'd transported stolen goods over land by strapping them to the bottom of wagons. He searched several piles of hay the gypsies horses munched, but found nothing of importance.

He talked to some of the gypsies who understood the languages he spoke. While he conversed with a skinny young girl, he notice Sea Storm lope toward the old man by the fire. The man's wrinkled face was smeared with dirt, and a patch covered one of his eyes. Straggly gray hair hung across his brow, and his limbs looked too slim to support the protruding gut Sea Storm nuzzled. The man pushed the horse away.

"Stop it!" Lock snapped at the horse, tugging him from the man. "Sorry, friend. He usually doesn't take to people so easily."

The man shook his head and ambled to the fire, leaning on a walking stick for support. Lock watched him, thinking, it's certainly no fun getting old, but the idea of growing old with a woman like Sparrow makes anything in life seem worthwhile.

"Are you finished?" demanded the woman, Mita.

"Yes. Thank you."

"Luck to you," said the man who'd shown Lock around the camp.

Lock nodded, mounted Sea Storm, and with a heavy heart, rode back to the ship.

He reached the dock well past midnight. The crewmen had found no sign of Sparrow, and Lock knew they watched him with wary eyes. If he didn't take control of the ship and set sail again, there would undoubtedly be attempts on his life. He didn't care. Until he found Sparrow-dead or alive-he wasn't about to leave the dock.

"Where you going, Captain?" asked the first mate as Lock took Sea Storm's reins and led the horse away from the pier. "Aren't you coming back aboard?"

"After I cool down my horse."

"The men are wondering when we're going to set sail."

Lock dropped the reins and approached the man, using his height to advantage as he glared down at him. "We'll go when I say. Now get back on board while you still have legs to walk there."

"Aye, Captain."

Lock walked Sea Storm to a field about half a mile from the dock. There, he turned the horse loose to graze. Lock should have been tired, but he was unable to rest. Fear was an unfamiliar emotion to him, but since he realized Sparrow was missing, terror such as he'd never known had built steadily within him.

Hearing hoof beats, he glanced over his shoulder, watching Ilias approach on horseback.

"Sparrow?" Lock asked.

Ilias held his eyes, and Lock sensed hesitation. "I've come to talk about Sparrow."

"What about her?" Lock demanded, taking a step closer. Ilias backed the horse away and reached for his sword. "Get off that horse and tell me what you know about her!"

"I came here to tell you, but I ain't getting off the horse. Call for yours and I ride out of here."

"Talk!"

"First, Sparrow is not hurt and she's not dead."

Lock felt as if a weight had been lifted from his belly. "Where is she?"

"I can't tell you that."

Lock's teeth clenched and he reached for the horse. Ilias kicked the animal away.

"Ilias-"

"I'm risking my life coming to you at all! I know you're a killer, and so does Sparrow. That's why she left!"

"What are you talking about?"

"She told me she couldn't stand living on the Lady Fire anymore. She said she couldn't stand seeing what you've become."

"She said that to you?" Lock wasn't sure if he was more angry at Sparrow or himself. She'd discussed him with another man. She'd confided in Ilias, but not in him.

"She told me many things, and I'm glad she did. I'm saying this because I consider Sparrow a friend and I know she's in love with you. Maybe if you know her reasons for leaving, you'll stop pirating and try to make yourself a decent man for her, if you can. Maybe you won't. I don't know. Maybe you love yourself more than you can ever love her. If that's the case, then it's better she left."

"Who the h.e.l.l are you to be saying this to me?"

"I know. I'm a pirate, too, or at least I was. I'm not returning to the ship, either. I'm going back to my family. I don't want to end up like you, Lock. If I ever find a woman who loves me, I don't want to lose her because I'm a murdering pirate who only cares about stealing other people's goods. I don't want to be cutting off boys' fingers and constantly watching my back because nearly everyone I know wants to kill me. I don't want to end up on an auction block in Begonia-"

"I understand!" Lock waved his hand. "You've come this far, so at least tell me where she is so I can talk to her."

"I can't."

"If you don't, I'll cut your throat."

"You'd have to catch me first. Your horse is out there, and I'd have a head start."

"I'd catch you."

"While you're hunting me you could be finding Sparrow. If you really want to kill me, you'll probably do it no matter what I say, but how do you think Sparrow would feel about it?"

"She need never know," Lock snarled, though he already knew he couldn't kill the ape-like pirate. Sparrow considered the man a friend, and when he found her, he couldn't keep such a secret, not without betraying her again.

"I'm going, Lock. I hope you don't follow me. I hope you say to h.e.l.l with the Lady Fire and go find the real lady who loves you. If you do find her, I hope you don't hurt her again. She doesn't deserve it, and she's much too good for you." Ilias grinned. "I can say that since you're not my Captain anymore."

"Is she still on land? She didn't sail off on another ship, did she?" Lock demanded.

"I don't think she wants to set foot on another ship right now. Yes, she's still on land." Ilias kicked his horse to a gallop.

"Ilias!" Lock bellowed, but the man disappeared over the hill.

Lock whistled for Sea Storm and rode him back to the dock where he stepped on deck and called for the crew. The sleepy pirates gathered on deck.

"I'm leaving the Lady Fire," Lock told them.

"What for?" someone shouted.

"Likely to find that wench," chuckled another.

Lock went to his cabin and packed his few belongings. The first mate followed.

"Looks like this is your vessel now, if you can keep it," Lock told him.

"Oh, I plan on keeping it." The man folded his arms across his chest. "You're a fool, Lock the White. All this for a woman."

Lock slung the leather bag of healing supplies Shea-Ann had given him over his shoulder and left the ship. He didn't bother telling the first mate he was leaving as much for his own sake as for Sparrow's. It would have been a waste of time because the man would never understand. Lock was only grateful he'd learned enough from Sparrow and Shea-Ann to see the truth in Ilias's words.

He had to choose between Sparrow and piracy. There was no compet.i.tion.

He enjoyed the adventure and power of commanding a ship, but it lost its l.u.s.ter if it meant a life without Sparrow.

On sh.o.r.e, he mounted Sea Storm and rode from the dock without looking back.

Chapter Twenty Four.

Sparrow braided Opal's hair, keeping her eyes fixed on the dark tendrils, though her thoughts wandered toward Lock again.

It had been over four months since she'd left the ship. That first night she'd come to the gypsies and Lock had searched their camp for her, she'd been torn between wishing he'd find her and terrified that he would. The gypsies had disguised her well, dressing her as an old man, padding the clothes she'd borrowed from one of their men, caking her face with clay to create wrinkled, dark skin, and hiding one of her eyes with a patch. She hadn't even recognized herself when she stared at her reflection in a looking gla.s.s. Lock hadn't know her at all. Sea Storm had nearly given her away, however, with an affectionate poke of his nose.

Watching Lock search the camp that night, she'd been unable to keep her eyes from him. He'd looked genuinely concerned and seemed desperate to find her. If she had been in his place and he'd been missing, she'd have been nearly insane with worry. She wished she could at least have eased his mind. She'd wanted to dive into his arms and never let go, but it couldn't be. If she'd revealed herself to him, he would have forced her back to the Lady Fire, and she couldn't stand another day on the ship. He was a pirate and had chosen a life on board the Lady Fire over one he'd planned with her.

"Hurry up, Sparrow," Opal said. "When you're done braiding my hair, I'll do yours then we have to get to the tavern before sundown."

"Sorry. My mind was drifting."

"Lock again?"

"I can't help it."

"He was very handsome. I remember that night he came to the camp looking for you. He had a beautiful body, so tall and strong. Was he terribly good at making love?"

Sparrow swatted the girl's shoulder. "I told you to stop asking me about that. I don't discuss such things."

"You know, it's funny how such a modest woman took to tavern dancing as well as you have. I've been doing it since I was a girl, and the men throw more money at you than they do at me."

"They do not."

"Imagine how much you'll make when you really know how to dance."

Sparrow tied off the braid and turned so Opal could fix her hair. "I'm glad you're teaching me." If only Lock could see the farm girl now, Sparrow thought. The dances Opal taught her were nearly as tempting as the Daggers of Desire.

The women finished dressing then shared a horse to the village. They'd made camp on the outskirts of the settlement four days ago. Sparrow and Opal made arrangements with the owner of the tavern and had been dancing there for the past two nights. The men who frequented the place were not only local villagers, but hunters and trappers who made their living in the surrounding woods. The group could get rough and rowdy at times, particularly when they had too much to drink, but the owner had a tall, young stable worker who kept order in the tavern by night. The previous evening, one of the men had tried to follow Opal and Sparrow after their performance, but the women had nearly clipped off his ears with the daggers they carried. Prem, an expert at throwing daggers, had been training Sparrow, and she liked the idea of learning to defend herself with a weapon. In the line of work she and Opal had chosen, self protection was necessary.

"I really like the new dresses we made," Opal said, smoothing the lavender fabric over her narrow hips as they dismounted and left the horse outside the stable.

"The silk is very nice," Sparrow agreed, lifting the skirt of her own sky blue dress so the mud wouldn't ruin the hemline.

They walked to the back door of the tavern that opened to the kitchen.

"Evening." Leah, the full-breasted serving woman greeted them with a smile. "Room's full tonight. Cook's in a rotten mood."

Sparrow glanced at the short, gnarled old man stirring a pot of stew over the fire.

"Good evening, Cook," Sparrow said.

The man grumbled and waved a hand without turning to her. She grinned and Opal raised her eyes to heaven.

"You're just in time. A few of the regulars have been asking about you." Leah grabbed two steaming bowls Cook ladled out for her and bustled to the next room.