Christine Dorsey - [Sea 01] (26 page)

“Jack
will
be here tomorrow.”

Miranda turned to study her father. He took another sip of Madeira, his eyes never leaving her. “How can you be so certain of that?” Miranda was counting on Captain Blackstone stealing out of the harbor under cover of the predawn mist.

“I know Jack.”

“How can you say that? I mean granted, you and he are partners.” She gave her head a shake, as if trying to sort that out in her mind. “But he’s a rogue of the worst kind.”

Henry’s expression sobered. “Did he hurt you badly?”

“Nay.” Heat surged toward her face, and Miranda clasped her hands. The act of reproduction was as natural as eating or drinking. When her grandfather had explained the process to her, Miranda felt no embarrassment. However now, with her father, she could barely meet his gaze. She wondered if this difference was because with the pirate it had seemed much more than natural. The act of reproduction had seemed wondrous.

Miranda cleared her throat. “Captain Blackstone didn’t cause me any pain. However, he did lie to me and he tried to fool me.”

Henry sank into a chair, and let his head drop back against the crimson velvet. “ ‘Tis my fault, not his. Jack wanted nothing to do with my scheme at first.”

“I doubt his reasons were particularly noble.” Considering his initial, very obvious dislike of her, he probably didn’t wish to be bothered by her presence.

“Perhaps not. But this doesn’t change the fact that I must bear the blame for all that’s happened.”

“Papa.” He spoke the truth, though Miranda wasn’t as willing as he to spare the pirate all the culpability. But Miranda couldn’t stand seeing her father so dejected. She sank to her knees beside his chair. “It will be all right. Nothing so terrible happened. I met some very interesting men, who were quite curious about my microscope. And I was able to observe some fascinating fauna and flora.” Miranda let out a breath. “Of course, I lost all of that when the Indian grabbed me—”

“My God!” Henry jerked up. “You were attacked by Indians?”

“Not attacked actually. As it turned out the man knew Captain Blackstone, so there was no problem. Except I did lose all the specimens I’d collected.”

Henry leaned forward and grasped his daughter’s hands. She was a mystery to him, but he loved her. “Miranda,” he began softly. “You lost something more important than a few plants. You lost your maidenhood.” Henry clasped her tighter when Miranda tried to stand. “I blame myself for this. Perhaps if I’d brought your mother and you with me, this would never have happened. But instead I allowed you to grow up around a man who obviously knew naught about raising a child.”

“Grandfather was a wonderful man. A great scientist. He had an amazing mind.”

“Of those things I have no doubt. I also know that he loved you dearly. But you should have been exposed to more than books and studies. Perhaps then you would have known how to handle Jack.”

Miranda took a deep breath, and forced herself to be honest. “Captain Blackstone did not force me, Papa.”

“No. I rather assumed he hadn’t. ‘Tis not Jack’s way.”

“I asked him to kiss me. As an experiment. After that—”

Henry jumped to his feet. “A father does not have to hear everything, Miranda. The point is, Jack will be here on the morrow, as he said he would. And you
will
marry him.”

Miranda knelt, staring up at her father, wide-eyed. She wasn’t used to orders. Grandfather had occasionally
suggested
, but he’d never commanded. “But, Papa —”

“You
will
listen to me!” Henry shut his eyes, trying to block out his harsh tone. “Miranda, dear. Charles Town is a small community. By tomorrow everyone will know of your... of your liaison with Captain Blackstone. It was generous of you to sacrifice your reputation for me and for Jack. But it was also foolish. You have no choice but to marry him.”

Henry watched his daughter’s head bow and touched the shiny, raven hair at her crown. “But you needn’t be around him. Jack will be sailing to St. Augustine within days, and until then...” Henry hesitated, not knowing exactly how to explain to his daughter that this would be a marriage in name only.

“Until then what?”

“Er... until then he’ll be busy refitting his ship.” Henry smiled, pleased with himself.

“I see. So he’ll be leaving me.” Miranda raised her eyes. “Much like you did my mother.” She stood, then went to him. Standing on tiptoe, Miranda kissed him good night.

Henry watched her leave the room. He wanted to call her back and explain to her why this was nothing at all like what he had done to his wife. But Miranda’s marriage was tarnished enough as it was. No need reminding her that there was no mutual affection, much less love, between her and her intended.

“Yer bloody well pullin’ me leg.”

“Do I look like a man caught up in a jest?” Jack carefully swiped his razor down the side of his jaw and turned to face Phin.

The snaggle-toothed smile slowly left the quartermaster’s face. “Damn, Cap’n, ye sure don’t. Ye look a might sickly.”

“I’m not sickly. This is the expression of a man resigned to his fate.” Jack peered back into the small looking glass nailed to the bulwark. He’d slept last night in his own bunk—finally, but his slumber had been anything but peaceful. Jack had woken this morning with the same niggling question on his mind. How did he get himself into this?

“Well, Cap’n, this is more than I can fathom this early in the morn.” Apparently Phin was starting to believe his captain’s words. “I mean, ye marryin’ her ladyship. It just don’t seem likely.” Phin scratched at his grizzled chin. “I mean, I never woulda believed she’d have ye.”

“What?” Jack winced when he turned, nicking his cheek. “God’s blood.” He grabbed a rag and blotted at the cut. “What do you mean you can’t believe she’d have me?”

“Meanin’ no offense to ye, Cap’n, but well, Mistress Chadwick is a fine lady an’ all.”

“Aye, well...” Jack wasn’t sure what he planned to say about his betrothed, but it sure as hell wasn’t complimentary. Yet he found he just couldn’t say anything against her. Clamping his mouth shut, Jack stuck out his chin and finished shaving.

“Not that ye ain’t a fine specimen a manhood yer own self, Cap’n. It’s just—”

Jack held up his hand. “You needn’t explain yourself. I don’t expect a cataloguing of my virtues... however short that list might be.” With a linen towel Jack cleaned the remaining soap from his face. “I simply told you so you’d know where I was today.”

“And tonight, eh, Cap’n?”

Jack’s face felt flushed, which was ridiculous, because pirates sure the hell didn’t blush. He grabbed for a clean shirt. “Nay,” he said, as matter-of-factly as he could. “We’ll be sailing on the morning tide. Too much time has already been wasted getting to St. Augustine. I’m anxious to have my revenge on de Segovia.”

Phin scratched at his chin. “ Do ye think we can trust Nafkebee that de Segovia is back?”

Jack paused in tying his cravat. “Aye, Nafkebee can be trusted.”

“Ye say that like there’s some that can’t.”

“Oh, there’s a traitor in our midst, all right. I’ve just yet to figure out who it is.” Jack brushed back his hair. “It’s hard for me to believe that Spanish galleon just happened upon Snebley’s Creek. And someone did a good job of convincing the royal revenuer that I kidnapped Miranda Chadwick.”

“Ye ain’t thinkin’ it’s one a the crew, is ye? ‘Cause I’d vouch for ev’ry one a ‘um.”

“And if you didn’t, I would. Nay.” Jack pulled on a gleaming black boot. “It’s not one of the men.” He arched a brow. “Not a one of them is stupid enough to chance getting himself killed during a battle.”

“That be true enough.”

“And only a handful of people know about the creek’s location.” Jack slipped his arms into a jewel blue waistcoat. “There’s the crew, but we already decided they wouldn’t want to risk their own necks.” Straightening his full sleeves, Jack turned and caught Phin’s eye. “Henry knows.”

Phin’s dark eyes widened. “Ye don’t think...?”

“Nay, even if I didn’t trust him for myself, he’d never do anything that would jeopardize Miranda.”

Phin rubbed his shoulder, still sore from the battle. “Then, who’s doin’ the tellin’? And how they doin’ it?”

“That, my dear Phin, I do not know.” Jack swept up a plumed hat, settling it casually over his golden hair.

“Are ye marryin’ her ladyship now?”

“Nay.” Jack took a deep breath. “I received a message from Henry, and it’s to be this afternoon at four. Right now I intend to pay my uncle a short visit.” Jack adjusted his sword.

“Well, there ye go.” Phin lifted a finger. “I’m thinkin’ yer uncle knows about the creek, too.”

“Ah, I do believe you’re right about that.”

Jack strode along Cumberland Street, trying to convince himself that he wasn’t going to question his uncle. He was merely paying a social call on his closest living relative—as far as he knew, his only living relative. After all, Jack normally visited his uncle when he was in port. And today, the day of his marriage, seemed an ideal time to be with family.

The weather was pleasant with a cooling breeze blowing in off the Cooper River. Close by, Jack could hear the metallic clang of hammer hitting nail as the residents worked to rebuild. In February a fire had swept through the town, wiping out nearly a third of the homes. This disaster, following so closely on the heels of an earthquake, had put a halt to much of the town’s growth.

But there seemed to be a new prosperity in Charles Town —and though Jack was glad to see it for the town, he feared it pealed a death knell for his way of life.

Profits from trade were rising, and the populace was losing its need for pirated goods. “And thus, its need for pirates,” Jack mumbled, mimicking Miranda’s logical progression as he turned up the dirt road to his uncle’s house.

Built of brick, the Blackstone town house looked prosperous and had been spared damage by the fire. Jack entered, then sent a servant to fetch his uncle before settling into a chair.

“Jack, how good to see you.” Jack rose as his Uncle Robert entered the room. “I’ve word this is a big day for you.”

Jack’s grin was genuine, and he felt the tension ease from his shoulders. How could he have suspected this man, his father’s brother, of betraying him? One had only to look at him to see the resemblance to Jack’s father... the dark auburn hair and light green eyes. If there was one man on earth who hated de Segovia as much as Jack did, it was his uncle.

If not for a strange twist of fate, Robert would have been at Port Royal that fateful day in 1686 when the Spanish attacked the small Scottish settlement. Then he, too, would have been killed or taken prisoner. As it was, he almost lost his life bringing word of the slaughter to the governor at Charles Town.

Jack shook his head slightly. He could not believe it was this man who had betrayed him. There must be some other explanation.

Accepting the crystal goblet of wine, Jack sat in the chair across from his uncle. “So tell me, Jack, how does my nephew come to be taking on the yoke of matrimony?”

After sipping his wine, a fine Madeira he’d brought on his last voyage, Jack arched his brow. “You seem to know about it, perhaps you should tell me.”

“As I hear it, there’s a bit of a scandal involved. A young woman besot with your manliness, following you to sea, was the version told me by Mistress Denley when she called earlier.”

“Ah, Mistress Denley.” Jack lifted his cup in mock salute. “The consummate gossip... wrong again.”

“I doubted it myself.”

Jack leaned back in the chair. “I told you of Henry’s request that I kidnap his daughter.”

“Is your wedding a result of that fiasco? If you recall, I advised against it.”

“That you did. And obviously I should have heeded your counsel.” Jack paused. For some reason he couldn’t fathom, he had a prickle of uneasiness. More to the point, he felt disloyal to his bride to be. An odd sensation when this marriage was being forced upon him. But nevertheless, he couldn’t shake it, and he rose, running his finger along the carved marble mantel. “It isn’t such a bad match. Miranda Chadwick is quite lovely.”

“So I’ve been told, though I’ve yet to see for myself.” Robert regarded Jack over the rim of his goblet. “You seem fond of the girl.”