Captured Read Online Free PDF Page A

a sudden wave of dizziness. She found herself dumped back onto her feet at nearly the same instant. Caught off-guard, she staggered back on shaky legs, pride and stubbornness alone preventing her from sprawling in an undignified heap at her captor’s feet. She’d die before she’d give him that satisfaction.
    They were on the deck of a Union gunboat. From what she’d heard, the journey to Old Capitol Prison in Washington‌—‌through the Chesapeake Bay, then up the Potomac River‌—‌would take less than three days. For the first time since her trial, real fear raced through Devon. The grim reality of her situation, inconceivable until this moment, suddenly struck her with frightening clarity. She might very likely spend the rest of her days rotting away in prison.
    Devon scolded herself as she forced the thought away. Uncle Monty would be ashamed of her. Fear was a sign of weakness, and she had no time for that now. Besides, she’d been in worse spots than this before. All she needed was a clear, cool head and a plan of action. She took a deep, calming breath, watching as a young sailor crossed the deck and moved toward them.
    “Captain McRae here to see Captain Gregory,” Cole said.
    “I’m sorry, sir, the captain’s gone ashore.”
    “When is he expected back?”
    “Didn’t say.”
    Annoyance flashed across her captor’s face. “Your captain was to have prepared quarters for both the prisoner and myself. You may show me to them now.”
    The sailor nodded, automatically obeying the voice of authority, then the words sunk in and his eyes grew wide. He stared at Devon, then back at Cole. “The prisoner? You mean her? But she’s a woman.”
    “I’m sure those keen eyes serve you well in battle, Ensign. Now show me to those quarters.”
    The boy stiffened. “Yes, sir. Right away, sir.”
    The tight, sparsely furnished cabin that Devon was to stay in during the journey offered her nothing in the way of encouragement. It contained only a low, narrow bed and a washstand with pitcher and basin. There was no window. Light and air entered the room by way of a skylight scuttle, cut through the ceiling to the deck above. The only exit was through the door they entered, which no doubt would be heavily guarded.
    As if reading her thoughts, Captain McRae turned to the young sailor who stood waiting outside. “I want a guard posted here twenty-four hours a day. Nobody goes in, nobody goes out. Is that understood?”
    “Yes, sir.”
    The captain turned back to her. A thick tension fell over the room as their gazes locked. “I trust you find the accommodations satisfactory,” he said at last.
    Devon brought up her chin. “Actually, I prefer satin linens on my bed to homespun cotton. Do see what you can arrange.”
    He regarded her in silence, then held out his hand. “I’m waiting.”
    Shock raced through Devon as she quickly arranged her features into a mask of bewildered innocence. “I’m sure I don’t know what—”
    “My wallet.”
    He couldn’t have felt her lift it. She was too good. Not only that, she’d been pounding on his back and screaming in his ear at the time. Yet there he stood, his hand extended, his gaze flat and unyielding. Mustering as much dignity as she was able, Devon silently acknowledged her defeat. With a regal nod, she removed the slim leather case from the pocket of her skirt and passed it to him.
    This was the second time he’d outmaneuvered her, and she was determined to make it the last. She merely had to keep testing him. Sooner or later she’d find a vulnerability, a spot beneath his cold exterior where she could strike. As he turned to leave, she asked, “What would you have done if the blacksmith hadn’t believed you?”
    If he was at all surprised by her question, it didn’t show. “I suppose it would have come to fisticuffs.”
    “That smith would have killed you.”
    He shrugged. “He wouldn’t have been the first to try.”
    Nor would he be the last, she