Christine Dorsey - [Sea 01] (32 page)

Phin’s eyes widened, and his mouth gaped open. “What?”

“You can choose the location,” Miranda repeated. “But I do think we should hurry because the captain should be along any minute.”

“I done told ye, he’s ‘sleep down in his cabin.”

“Phin.” Miranda touched his arm. “You needn’t lie for me. Captain Blackstone spent the night at my house. He got, well, waylaid by my father this morning, so I rushed on ahead. You see, I plan to go with him, but I don’t think—”

“Cap’n ain’t gonna take ye to St. Augustine.”

“I was afraid that would be his attitude, so that’s why you—”

“He’s got hisself a real good attitude. This ain’t no place for the likes a ye.”

“Phin, listen to me. I know what I’m doing.” Miranda put her bundle on the deck. Several other crew members wandered by and stopped to say hello. Miranda waited till they were alone again. “Your captain needs my help to find his sister.”

“But—”

“There are no buts about it. I can help him. And he’ll thank you for this later. You know he won’t let anything happen to me.”

“I don’t rightly know ‘bout this.”

Miranda thought Phin was weakening; but time was running out, and she couldn’t afford to quibble. “Phin, you must take me below and hide me.”

“Aw, yer ladyship...”

“Do it now, Phin!”

The old pirate responded to the command in her voice as she hoped he would. Grumbling, he reached to pick up Miranda’s bag. She beat him to it. Her microscope was inside, along with some other things she didn’t want broken.

Miranda followed Phin down the ladder below deck, then lower. Phin grabbed a lantern from an overhead beam and held it out in front of them. It did little to pierce the darkness. Miranda took a deep breath. The hold was dark and musty, smelling of tar and bilge water, and for the first time, she had doubts about her plan. But she swallowed and refused to listen to Phin’s arguments.

“ ‘Tis just for a short time. Till we’re out to sea. Then I’ll let the captain know I’m aboard.” Miranda settled herself on a barrel. “In the meantime, if you’d bring me an occasional meal and tell the others who saw me come aboard to keep their counsel, I’d appreciate it.”

“Ain’t the others ye got to worry ‘bout. The cap’n, now that’s a different matter all together.”

“I can handle Captain Blackstone,” Miranda said. But later as she sat in the puddle of light from the lantern, alone with her thoughts, she wondered if that were true.

“Where are you off to?” Jack took a swig of grog. “With a share of meat?”

Phin paused, guiltily glanced down at his pocket, where he was sure he’d discreetly hidden the food, then met his captain’s eyes.

After back-handing his mouth, Jack leaned back against a bulkhead. In the crew’s mess, the rumble of conversation ceased, and Jack had the feeling that all the pirates who moments ago were devouring their supper, were now holding their collective breath. For three days, since they’d left the harbor at Charles Town, Jack had noticed Phin secreting food in his clothes, till now the pockets were dark with grease.

“Well now, Cap’n, I ain’t goin’ nowhere special. Just thought I’d get me a breath a fresh air while I finish me vittles.”

“I see.” Phin wasn’t a very convincing liar. “You’ve been consuming a great deal of food lately.”

“I been hungry.” Phin’s grizzled chin shoved forward. “If you’ve got some complaint ‘bout me holdin’ me own, then—”

“Nay.” Jack waved that aside. “Your work more than makes up for the extra food you eat.”

Phin flexed his shoulders. “That be more like it, Cap’n.”

Jack raised the pewter mug in a slight salute. “I was just wondering, that’s all.”

 “Ain’t nothin’ to wonder ‘bout, Cap’n.”

“I can see that now.” Jack smiled.

“I gotta go.”

“Fine.” Jack leaned his elbows on the roughhewn boards that formed a table. As if on cue, the other men in the room continued their conversations.

Jack watched Phin scurry out, then stood.

“We was wonderin’, Cap’n.” Scar grabbed his sleeve, letting go of Jack’s wrist only when he raised his brows.

“What were you wondering, Scar?” If this wasn’t an attempt to keep him from following Phin, Jack would dive off the main mast.

“ ‘Bout our raid on St. Augustine? How much coin ye think we’ll be gettin’?”

Jack gave his chief gunner a protracted stare before answering. “I haven’t a clue. I thought we already discussed that.”

“Right ye are, Cap’n. I musta forgot.” Scar turned back to stuffing his mouth with salt pork, and Jack imagined Scar thought it was all right for him to leave now.

Scraping his bench over the hard oak deck, Jack stood. Not a man seemed willing to meet his eye as he bent over to keep his head from knocking against the beams. Something was amiss. He’d suspected it before, but now he knew it.

He just didn’t know what it was.

A mutiny was always a possibility on board ship. But Jack couldn’t believe his crew would do such a thing. Besides, if they were planning something, they’d just go ahead and do it. And mutineers had no call to sneak food.

No doubt about it, something strange was happening, and he intended to discover what it was.

One thing about this mystery, Jack thought as he stepped out on deck, it kept his mind occupied so that he didn’t think about his wife... at least not all the time.

“I’m tellin’ ye, he knows somethin’.” Phin sat on a water cask and watched Miranda pick at her pork and sea biscuit. They were in the forward hold, between the main and forward hatches. Raised planks covered the ballast below, keeping the area relatively dry of bilge water.

“Tell me again what he said.” Miranda gnawed on a piece of unappetizing hardtack, finally managing to break off a piece without splitting a tooth.

Ask me where I be off to with the meat,” Phin began. “I’m tellin’ ye he’s on to us.”

Miranda swallowed, then sighed. “Well, I imagine I should let him know I’m aboard.” She chewed on her thumbnail. “Do you think he’ll turn back at this point?”

“Ain’t sure. The cap’n is chaffin’ to get to de Segovia. But he ain’t gonna like takin’ ye along. I should never a let ye aboard.” Phin scratched at his chin.

“Don’t blame yourself, Phin. I’m the one who insisted.”

“But yer nothin’ but a woman.” Phin’s voice was firm. “I shoulda know’d better. Just to see ye sleepin’ down here, with nothin’ but a motheaten blanket to stave off the damp...” He stopped and shook his head.

“It hasn’t been that bad.” Miranda tried to sound convincing. Actually, being confined down here in the near dark, was worse than she ever could have imagined.

“It be my fault,” Phin continued as if he hadn’t even heard her denial. “I just don’t know how I’m gonna make it right with the cap’n.”

“You should have thought of that earlier!” The voice sounded at the same instant the musty canvas Phin had strung for her privacy was yanked aside. Miranda and Phin jumped up in surprise.

Jack Blackstone stood, his hand resting loosely on the hilt of his cutlass. It froze, and his mouth dropped open when he saw Miranda. “God’s blood!”

“N-now, Cap’n, I can explain everythin’,” Phin stammered before he realized the younger man wasn’t paying him the least attention.

“What are you doing here Miranda?”

Her husband seemed unable to believe his own eyes. She actually saw him blink. But when he opened his eyes again, he must have accepted that it was indeed her, for he grabbed her arm and started hauling her along behind him toward the hatch.

“Bring the lantern,” he yelled over his shoulder to Phin. “We don’t want the powder catching afire along with everything else that’s going wrong.”

Miranda could only assume he referred to her presence. She scrambled to keep up with him until she remembered her belongings; then she dug in her heels and grabbed hold of a bulwark. It hardly stopped the captain’s forward motion, but he must have noticed something, for he glanced around at her.

“My things,” Miranda began. “I don’t want to leave my books and microscope.”

“We’ll retrieve them later,” he said in a tone that even Miranda didn’t question.

He pushed her in front of him, bracketing her hips with his hands, as they climbed to the berth deck. From there it was only a short walk to the captain’s cabin.

Jack kicked the door open, yanked her inside and slammed it shut. His temper was near exploding. Of all manner of things he suspected his crew was hiding, he never,
never
thought it might be his wife.

They were sailing to fight the Spanish, on their own ground, by God. You didn’t take women into situations like that. Especially gentle-born women like Miranda. You just didn’t. My God, she could be killed!

His fists knotted, and in an attempt to calm himself Jack crossed his arms “Now,” he said through clenched teeth. “Explain yourself.”

He really was formidable. He stood easily a head taller than she and twice as broad. The gold loop peeked through his tousled golden hair, and his expression was stern. Oh, he was every bit the pirate, and Miranda wondered why she had ever considered this silly plan. He didn’t look like someone who would need her help. With his strong muscles bulging, he seemed quite capable of taking care of himself.

Miranda swallowed.

“Well!”

“I decided to come with you.”

“What?” Jack’s bellow echoed through the cabin.

Miranda winced... ever so slightly.

“You decided to come with me?” Jack couldn’t believe this was happening. “What the hell for?”

Shrugging, Miranda tried to appear more at ease than she felt. She had expected his anger. She just hadn’t known it would bother her so much. It really hadn’t before. “Well, I am your wife,” she began, only to pause when Jack’s eyes flew open.

Jack paced to the window, then turned abruptly. His eyes roamed over her, taking in the soiled gown and her tangled hair. She had a smudge of dirt across her cheek that he itched to rub off with his thumb. But he fought back the urge as savagely as he molded his expression. “This marriage your father arranged was to be in name only. There is no need for you to come traipsing after me.”

“It didn’t appear to be in name only on our wedding night,” she said guilelessly.

“That was different. It was...” He couldn’t find the words to describe to her exactly how it was different, so he turned back to stare out at the indigo water.

“I see,” she responded as if she really understood, and that annoyed the hell out of Jack.

“Don’t act as if you are enamored of this marriage. If you recall, your voice was raised in protest as adamantly as mine. For God’s sake, you barely took the time to bid me farewell the morning I left.”

Miranda’s eyes widened. For a moment she thought she noticed a touch of vulnerability. In his expression. In his words. But he quickly masked any trace of it with a stormy glare that made Miranda wonder if she had imagined it. “Actually,” she explained after a deep breath. “I had things to make ready. And I knew we wouldn’t be separated for long.”

“Oh, you knew, did you?” The wench thought she could play games with him. “Well, this time I think it would be prudent to say your goodbyes.” Jack strode to the door.

“What are you going to do?”

His hand grabbed the latch. “What I should have done when I first found you. Turn this ship about.”

“What of de Segovia?”

“God’s blood, I knew I should never have told you anything,” Jack mumbled, wondering why it had seemed so natural to do it. “I shall find de Segovia. Have no fear of that.” He lifted the latch.

“I can help you,” Miranda said softly.

“What?” Jack turned on his wife. “God’s blood, woman, what are you talking about? I’m Gentleman Jack Blackstone, captain of the pirate ship
Sea Hawk
. My crew and I are feared from one end of the Spanish Main to the other. We...
I
... need no assistance from a slip of a girl.”

Miranda stood by calmly, waiting for her husband’s tirade to end. When it did, she asked, “Do you know where de Segovia is?”

“You know I do. In St. Augustine.”

“But where in St. Augustine?”

Jack stuck out his jaw. “I shall find him. If I have to tear the settlement apart, palm tree by palm tree, I shall find him.”