Christine Dorsey - [Sea 01] (15 page)

Miranda had been almost eleven at the time. She’d listened with her usual curiosity, asked a fair number of questions and decided it didn’t sound too appealing. Oh, she’d been certain that one day she would participate in the procedure. It was important to populate the Earth.

But never did she think she might do such a thing with a pirate. And though the act itself had very little in common with the explanation her grandfather, had given her, Miranda was pretty certain that was what she’d almost done with him.

And Lord help her, she would have continued if the pirate hadn’t stopped. Even now she had niggling feelings of regret that he had.

Jack studied her a moment, then stood. “There is nothing for you to say. This was entirely my fault. God’s blood, I am a pirate, after all.” Hell, pirates raped and pillaged all the time. Just because Jack didn’t have a taste for it didn’t mean he couldn’t if he wanted to.

But this had been no near rape. Jack knew it. He shot her a quick glance. And he had a feeling Miranda knew it, too.

God, he was going to have to stay away from her.

Shaking his head, Jack paced to the door. “I should never have kidnapped you, but since I—”

“Why did you... kidnap me, I mean.” Miranda swung her legs over the side of the bunk.

“Well, it sure as hell wasn’t my idea.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Jack knew he said the wrong thing. The woman worked on his mind as well as his groin.

“Whose idea was it?”

“Nobody’s.” Jack held up his hand. “I mean it wasn’t one of my better ideas. Never mind. Just try and forget this happened. I’ll have you home in a sennight.” Before she could question him further, Jack left the cabin.

“Ye weren’t too rough on her was ye, Cap’n?”

Jack had barely cleared the hatch when Phin sidled up to him. “Ye know she didn’t mean nothin’ by what she done.”

“I don’t imagine she even knew how dangerous it could be up there in the shrouds with the wind blowing.” Jack’s voice was calm. “But you knew, Phin, and you let her climb up there anyway.”

“Aw now, Cap’n, she said she was a good climber. And damn if she weren’t. Why you’d a been right shocked at how fast she scurried up there. And I swear on my mother’s grave she didn’t tell us what she was up to before she done it. Just grabbed hold of a ratline and up she went.”

Jack let out a deep sigh. Knowing Miranda, it was easy to believe Phin’s explanation. “What’s done is done. Thank God no harm came to the wench.” The memory of lying with her on his bunk and of what he wanted to do flashed into Jack’s mind. Henry would have a fit if he found out.

Shaking his head, Jack watched the shoreline of pines and palmettos pass by. They were sailing into the all-but-hidden inlet, toward a narrow, deep-channeled creek that Jack had discovered one time while evading a British frigate. Since then he used the landing often. It offered a safe, protected area for his crew to refit the
Sea Hawk
. This time he’d see the work done as quickly as possible. The sooner he had Mistress Miranda back in the loving arms of her father, the better off she’d be. And the better off he’d be.

By five bells in the forenoon watch the
Sea Hawk
was anchored near shore. The creek’s bottom was hard and gravelly, and at low water, the men began graving the ship’s hull. Scrubbing the barnacles from the ship’s timbers was hard work; but a pirate ship demanded speed; and to accomplish that, the hull needed frequent cleaning.

Miranda observed what she could from the transom windows. At first it was interesting watching the pirates hanging over the side and scraping at the wood. But she soon found her gaze shifting to the shore where lacquered leaves and cord grass swayed alluringly in the breeze. Miranda bit the end of her thumbnail and wondered what riches of discovery she might find beyond the cloak of green.

If only she could explore... like the naturalist, John Ray. Miranda’s shoulders dropped. She needed to do something ... anything to take her mind off her encounter with Captain Blackstone. A wave of excitement rushed through her, and she curled her arms about her waist.

This was terrible. All she could think about was him. How he looked. How it felt to be held by him, to be kissed by him. Why he pulled away so suddenly.

Miranda paced to the door. Her mind was usually full of such lofty thoughts and notions. She wondered about the universe. She wondered about animals and plant life, and gravity and light and all manner of important, and fascinating things.

And now the only thing that occupied her mind was a pirate captain. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. And the only thing she could think of to change it was to immerse herself in a new project. Like exploring the vegetation on shore.

Miranda strode back to the window and flopped onto the window seat. It wasn’t as if the captain forbade her to go ashore. Miranda turned and stuck her head out the open window. They were almost close enough to the sandy beach to wade through the water. Besides, she knew how to swim even if they weren’t.

Gathering up her parchment, Miranda headed for the door. She would simply ask the captain. He’d told her she was to have nothing to do with any of the crew, but he hadn’t said anything about staying in the cabin.

The captain wasn’t on deck. No one was. Shading her face from the afternoon sun with her hand, Miranda walked around the railing, glancing over the edge as she went, for some sign of the captain. She noticed Phin hanging over the side and came close to calling down to him, but decided the captain wouldn’t like that. Instead she continued to search.

She finally found him aft of the main mast. Like the other men he was scraping at the overlapping shells stuck to the hull. He seemed so busy with his sweat-slick muscles gleaming in the sun that Miranda hesitated to yell down to him. But when she remembered that the alternative was to go back to the stifling cabin and spend her time ruminating about him, she gained courage.

“Captain Blackstone?” Miranda called twice before he looked up. “May I have a word with you?”

God’s blood, what did she want now? Jack took another vicious swipe at the hull. “What is it, Mistress Chadwick?”

“I was wondering if I might go ashore?”

“Nay.”

Nay? Just nay? No let me think, on the matter. No please be so kind as to explain why you wish to go ashore. Just nay.

Miranda squeezed in beside the belaying pins and leaned farther over the rail. “I wanted to collect some flora to study under the microscope.

Jack shut his eyes, and took a deep breath. When he regained some of his control, he squinted up at her. She’d braided her hair, and the thick, woven curls hung down over her shoulder as black and shiny as a crow’s wing. Jack tried to ignore his desire to dig his fingers into the sweet-smelling mass. Instead he concentrated on all her annoying little habits... like pestering him while he worked.

“I don’t recall asking why you wished to go ashore, nor do I care. ‘Tis all I can manage to keep my eye on you while you’re confined to my ship.”

“I didn’t know you thought it necessary to keep your eye on me.” After all, she’d been below in his cabin until a moment ago. The pirate captain made no comment. Like the rest of the pirates, he sat on a small, wooden swinglike contraption at the end of a long rope. Ignoring her, he started scraping again.

Miranda was used to discussing differences of opinion, thrashing them out with facts and logic. Captain Blackstone’s method of dealing with something—to simply pretend it didn’t exist—she found most annoying. Besides, she didn’t like being treated like a child who had to ask permission to do anything. Grandfather had never interfered with her studies.

With renewed zeal Miranda hung farther over the side. “Actually, it would be easier to watch me if I were on the beach. See?” She leaned over until only the tips of her shoes touched the deck. “You’d have naught to do but turn your head to monitor my whereabouts.”

He didn’t intend to, but Jack swung his head around toward the creek’s edge. He did have a clear view of the sandy beach that served as a buffer between the pine forest and the gently lapping water. But just because he could see the beach didn’t mean he was going to let her get off the ship. He glanced up to tell her, and his mouth went dry.

“What are you doing? Do you want to fall into the creek?” She was leaning over the side so far, Jack thought any moment she might topple over into the water.

Miranda slid back over the rail. “You needn’t worry. I know how to swim.”

“That’s truly a comfort.” Jack’s heart seemed to be steadying to its regular pace.

“Actually, I could swim to shore if you’d rather not be bothered to take me.”

“Hell, yes, I’d rather not be bothered. But that does
not
mean I want you swimming to the beach.” Jack stuck his scraping tool into his belt and grabbed hold of the rope. If he was going to get any work done, it probably would be best if he took her to the shore. She could sit in the shade, do whatever it was she did, and be out of his hair.

Miranda watched him pull himself hand over hand up the hemp. It brought back vivid memories of when she’d clung to him and he’d shimmied down a rope... and of what had happened in the cabin after that.

He bounded over the rail and landed on deck. As with every time she saw him, Miranda was struck by his size. Or maybe this time it was because he wore no shirt. His smooth, bronzed chest shone slick with sweat. And Miranda couldn’t help watching a droplet run down the flat plane of his stomach and soak into his cotton breeches.

He turned, walking away on bare feet, and Miranda followed. “Gather whatever you wish to take with you. I’ll lower the boat.” They actually were close enough to shore to swim, but he wasn’t having Henry think Jack didn’t treat his daughter with utmost respect.

The whole time he’d ben scraping at the barnacles, Jack had thought of his vow to his friend. He’d said he would treat her as he would his sister. Well, he sure hadn’t been thinking of his sister when he kissed Miranda.

“I’m ready.”

Jack turned and scowled down at her. She had a straw bonnet perched atop her head and her parchment and charcoal. At that moment Jack thought to ask her about the strange drawing he’d found on his desk, but decided against it. He didn’t want her thinking he was interested in whatever she was doing.

Jack used the short row to shore to emphasize the rules she was to follow. “Stay on the beach. Do not go anywhere. Do not do anything. Oh, and stay out of the water,” Jack added. He remembered her words about knowing how to swim and could just imagine her trying it.

“I’ll come back for you in two hours. If for any reason you wish to return to the ship before that, just yell.”

“Thank you, Captain. I shall be fine.” Miranda spread a blanket out on the sand and seated herself beneath the shade of a large live oak draped with gossamer veils of Spanish moss.

The pirate captain pulled the boat onto shore and, after giving her one more reminder to stay put, waded into the water and swam to his ship. Miranda watched as he returned to his spot near the anchor. His powerful arms caught hold of the rope, and he hoisted himself onto his wooden plank. Before he set to scraping he turned his head and stared at Miranda.

She waved; he didn’t.

Miranda had plenty to keep her busy in this new setting. Species of plants she’d only begun to explore before her kidnapping lined the beach in seemingly limitless variety. She had only to reach out to trace a leaf’s serrated edges or outline the meandering of a vine. Everywhere she looked there was something new and exciting to see. Then, why did she spend the majority of her time watching the pirate captain?

Telling herself she only wanted to examine his musculature, she studied his form as he bent over his task. She picked up her charcoal and decided to do a series of drawings of him, not just the one. When Miranda caught herself concentrating on just the right way to sketch his aristocratic nose, and the shape of his generous mouth, she knew this had gone way beyond scientific research of anatomy.

In exasperation Miranda tossed aside her charcoal. What was wrong with her? She was the pirate’s captive. If anything, she should be thinking of ways to escape him. After all, she only had his word that he planned to take her back to Charles Town.

What if her father couldn’t pay the ransom? Or what if the messenger couldn’t find this place? She glanced around. It was certainly remote, seemingly inaccessible except by sea. And she certainly had seen no indication that a messenger had arrived... or even that anyone was expecting one. Yet, the captain had clearly said that here was where he was to receive the money.

But who would bring it? Miranda stood and walked along the edge of the small beach. It was completely surrounded by dense forest and underbrush. She couldn’t even find a path. It was perplexing to consider how a messenger would find this place. Miranda shook her head. It just wasn’t logical.

But then nothing about Captain Blackstone was... including her own reaction to him.

With a sigh, Miranda went back to her blanket. The sun’s angle threw most of the woolen square in bright light, so she pulled it back farther into the shade. Sitting down, she set to sketching the palmetto tree off to her right.

It was warm even in the shade, and Miranda found her eyes drifting shut. She didn’t want to sleep, so she shook herself and straightened her back. That’s when she noticed the small lizard sitting on her blanket. She’d seen them before in Charles Town but never this close.

It was about three inches long, a vivid green in color, with a tongue that whipped out periodically. Slowly, Miranda moved toward the lizard for a better look. She reached out her hand just as it darted off the blanket into the sand.

Miranda pushed to her feet and watched it scurry into the underbrush. Without a thought other than studying the lizard more closely, Miranda followed.