Christine Dorsey - [Sea 01] (5 page)

Miranda’s eyes snapped open. “No, Papa, I can remember nothing else.” Standing, Miranda moved toward the door. “I think I’ll read awhile before dinner. Don’t worry about the pirates. I’m certain we’ll never see them again.”

“ ‘Tis good to be home, Phin.” Jack stood on the quarterdeck watching his crew dock at the Charles Town wharf.

“Aye, Cap’n, for a while anyway.” Phineas grinned. “Gives the ladies a thrill.”

“A thrill is it?” Jack chuckled. “Just make sure you keep your thrilling to the wenches in the tavern. We don’t want another incident like Barbados.”

“Aw, Cap’n, weren’t my fault the woman was wild for me.”

“Apparently her husband thought so.”

Phin screwed up his wrinkled face. “We got away, didn’t we?”

“Barely.”

“What’s this. Ye ain’t goin’ soft on me now, is ye?”

“Hell no!” Jack glared down at his quartermaster. “But I don’t want anything to cause us trouble here. Knowing the collector of the king’s revenue is in town makes my neck itch.” Jack rubbed at the skin above his Steinkirk cravat.

“Yer thinkin’ a John Sparkes again, ain’t ye?”

“I’m thinking I don’t want to end up hanging from the gibbet at Execution Block.”

“God’s teeth, Cap’n, yer too smart for that.”

“Smart or no, I want the cargo unloaded as quickly as possible. No sense waiting for the revenuer to come snooping around.”

“You’ve the right a it there, Cap’n. He might start wondering where we come by all them Spanish gold pieces and bolts of silk.”

Jack’s grin showed a row of even white teeth. “He might at that.” Pushing away from the rail, Jack strode across the deck. “I’m off to see Chadwick and let him know what we’ve brought him.”

“Give him me regards!”

“Most assuredly.” Jack swept his quartermaster a bow, then caught his eye and winked. “And you save some of the wenches for me. I’ve a mind to give one or two a thrill myself.”

Stepping onto the quay, Jack took a deep breath. The smells of puff mud and oleander mingled with the tangy scent of salt air. It reminded him of the first time he arrived in the Carolinas. He had been a lad of ten, and though the voyage from Scotland had been harsh, Jack could barely control his excitement.

“A new land. A new beginning,” his father had said as the colonists settled at Port Royal, south of Charles Town. But the new beginning had ended suddenly. And the new land had run red with the blood of Jack’s family.

Jack forced the memories from his mind as he moved along the crushed oyster shell path onto Water Street. It did no good to lament the past. He had realized that years ago. Besides, it was a beautiful day, his hold was full of goods that would make him even wealthier than he already was, and by the reception he received from the good citizens of Charles Town, no one cared how he came by those goods.

Jack smiled at a local matron who bid him good-day and turned up Tradd Street. The breeze from the harbor cooled the air as he knocked on the door of Henry Chadwick’s single house.

“Why, Master Jack, is that you?”

“And just who else would it be?” Jack swung Henry’s servant, Chloe, into a big hug that had the old woman clutching her turbanned head.

“You put me down this instant, Master Jack. Master Henry, he done told you I don’t take to pestering.” Her toothless grin belied her words as Jack set her back on the floor.

“Is Henry home?” Jack followed the black woman onto the piazza.

“Sure is. And anxious to see you, I’ll bet.”

“Why so?” Henry Chadwick was a good friend, and together they’d made a lot of money, but Chloe seemed to indicate there was something beyond the welcome he normally received.

“Oh, I think Master Henry be wanting to tell you for hisself,” Chloe said, before knocking softly on the library door.

Henry’s expression when he entered the room confirmed Jack’s notion that something was amiss. “Jack!” Henry pushed himself from his leather chair. After pulling Jack into the room, the older man shut the door firmly. Then turning he examined Jack critically from the neatly brushed golden hair that skimmed the broad shoulders of his royal blue silk waistcoat, then down the matching breeches and gleaming black boots. Rocking back on his heels, Henry let out a sigh. “I don’t think she’ll suspect the truth.”

“Which is?”

“That you’re a pirate, my boy.” Henry’s tone was hushed. “You really look very little like one, you know.”

Jack’s laughter rang through the large room, and Henry rushed to his side, making shushing noises. “Quiet yourself. She’ll hear you.”

“Who will hear me? What’s going on here, Henry? I may not look like a pirate, but you’re certainly acting like the fool. “

His expression indignant, Henry indicated a wing chair and, after Jack sat; pulled his own closer. “My daughter is here.”

“Your daughter?”

“Yes, I’m sure I’ve told you of her.” Henry leaned forward, forearms on knees. “She lived with my wife’s father, Lord Waverly.”

“So why is she here?”

“Her grandfather died.” Henry held up his hands. “I don’t know exactly why she came, but the fact is she did. And she thinks I’m an honest merchant.”

Jack’s brow arched. “You are a merchant.”

“I said honest, Jack. Miranda was reared very...” For lack of a better word, Henry chose, “gently. She knows nothing about the harsher realities of life.”

“Like greed and avarice?” Jack questioned sardonically.

“I was referring to the Navigation Acts and the colonies’ inability to import even the most basic of products without paying larcenous prices.”

 “Ah, those realities.”

“Save your sarcastic wit for another time.” Henry bounded from his chair and began pacing in front of the hearth. “I’m quite in earnest about this.”

“That’s obvious.” Jack’s remark earned him another frustrated look from Henry. “Would you light somewhere? God’s blood, what are you worried about?” Now Jack was on his feet. “Did you expect I’d introduce myself to your daughter as Gentleman Jack Blackstone, infamous pirate and scourge of the seven seas?”

“Would you keep your voice down?” Henry hissed. “I simply don’t want her to know.”

“Then, I swear by the pirate’s creed no talk of walking the plank or plundering the Spanish Main will pass these lips.”

“Would you be serious for once?”

Jack held up a placating hand. “I am,” he announced solemnly. “After all, it’s hardly in my best interest to announce myself a pirate.” He felt that familiar itching about his neck but resisted the urge to scratch.

“Good.” With a sigh. Henry sank into his chair.

Amazed at the other man’s obvious relief, Jack settled across from him. “Did you really suppose I’d cause you a problem with this?”

“No.” Henry dropped his face into his hands. “It’s just that I left Miranda when she was a babe.”

“I know the story. It was for the best.”

”But I’ve a notion she thinks I abandoned her.”

“Did she say that?”

Henry shook his head. “Perhaps it’s my guilty conscience making me think she feels that way.”

 “Henry, you —”

“I don’t wish to discuss my reasons for leaving her with her grandfather. The fact is she’s here now, and I don’t want her to know about me.”

Jack paused a moment and studied his friend’s determined face, then nodded. “She won’t learn anything from me. But I still think you’re being too hard on yourself. You’re not exactly a—”

“You don’t understand. Miranda despises pirates. And with good reason. Her ship was attacked.”

“Was she hurt?” Jack didn’t know how else to ask a father about the myriad things that could happen to a young girl at the hand of some pirates. Not him, of course. Jack prided himself on his treatment of the fairer sex. He might be a pirate, but no woman sacrificed her virtue to him... unless by her choice.

“No, thank God. From what I understand, another passenger saved her from... well from... I don’t like to think about what might have happened.” Henry’s gaze found Jack’s. “And Miranda doesn’t like to talk about it.”

“That’s understandable.”

“But I’d like your help in discovering who did this to Miranda.”

“And perhaps in meting out a bit of punishment,” Jack added, his eyes twinkling. Henry was acting more like himself.

Henry smiled. “Perhaps. The problem is, I’ve very little to go on. Miranda’s description of the blackguard doesn’t match anyone I know of. Are there any new pirates sailing the area?”

“Not that I’m aware of. But then I’ve been down in the Caribbean for over a fortnight. What does this man look like?”

Jack listened to the description and shook his head. “Huge, and fierce isn’t much to go on, but I’ll ask around down by the waterfront. ‘Tis amazing how much the tavern wenches know,” Jack said with a grin.

Henry’s expression matched Jack’s. “I’m sure if there’s anything to be found, you’re the man to do it.”

“Quite right. Now, am I to have the pleasure of meeting this daughter of yours?”

“Of course.” Henry slapped his knees and stood. But before he was halfway to the door, he paused. “Jack, I don’t need to remind you that Miranda is my daughter and not... not—”

“A tavern wench?” Jack’s brow arched.

“Well, you do have a reputation with the ladies.”

“Only the willing ones.” Jack hurried on before Henry could interrupt. “And certainly not the daughter of my dear friend.”

Jack almost laughed at the relieved expression on Henry’s face. He could only imagine that this daughter of his was some straitlaced prude to cause Henry so much despair. But for his friend’s sake he’d be cordial and charming—until he could politely make his excuses and leave. There was a certain wench down by the wharf who he was interested in getting more than information from.

While Jack waited for Henry’s daughter he absently wandered about the library. The windows were open, letting in a pleasant breeze. As he passed by a mahogany table, Jack noticed a new addition to the room. It was fairly small and cylindrical, and he’d never seen anything like it before.

“What’s this?” he asked, running his finger down the smooth side.

Henry glanced over his shoulder. “That’s Miranda’s. What does she call it? Ah, yes, a microscope.”

 “A what?” Jack scratched at his neck.

“A microscope. It’s for studying— What’s wrong with you?”

But before Jack could answer, the door opened. Miranda stepped into the room, a smile curving her mouth. It froze when she saw her father’s guest. She looked at Jack, and Jack looked at her. For an instant she seemed unable to comprehend the obvious. Then her eyes widened, and her hand fluttered to her throat. “My God! It’s the pirate!”

“This is your daughter?”

“What’s the pirate doing here?”

“How could you, Jack?”

Three voices, raised in agitation, rang through the room.

Miranda looked as if she might faint.

Henry bustled to help her to the settee.

And Jack loosened the cravat that suddenly seemed too tight around his neck.

“I don’t understand!” Miranda pushed against her father as he tried to force her down on the cushions. “What is he doing here? Chloe said I was to meet a friend of yours.”

“There must be some mistake.” Henry glanced around frantically, then grabbed a bill of lading from his desk and used it to fan his daughter.

“There’s no mistake.” Miranda yanked the paper from his hand and tossed it to the floor. “He’s the pirate I told you about.”

Two pairs of eyes, one set accusing, the other questioning, turned on Jack. All he could do was shrug.

“You see. He isn’t even trying to deny what he did to me.”

“What I did to you?” Jack took a menacing step forward, annoyed when Henry jumped up to block his way. “I didn’t do one damn thing to you.”

“Now, Jack, there’s no call for profanity.”

“The hell there isn’t,” Jack said, before stalking out the door.

“Are you going to let him get away?” Miranda stood abruptly. “He’s a criminal and needs to be punished.”

“Yes, well, um.. ” Henry didn’t think, he’d ever been more perplexed. “Will you be all right if I leave you?”

“Of course. I’m perfectly fine. Just do something about the pirate. One of his men threatened to steal my microscope.”