"No, I suppose not," laughed Penny. She lifted her head, listening. "The scraping has stopped. We're off the sandbar now. We're getting underway. But you haven't told me anything about the family, yet. How are things at Level Green?"
"Extravagant as ever. Virginia wrote me they were about to go under and I-I did something about it." She told Penny the story of the de Lorca necklace and how she had sent it to her mother to pay Fielding Lightfoot's debts.
Penny rocked with laughter. "You certainly delivered the coup de grace to Father! He scorned you all those years and now it's you who came to save him!"
"I didn't mean it like that." Carolina was vexed. "They needed help-"
"And like a fairy godmother, you waved your wand and took care of all their problems at one stroke! I'd like to have seen this necklace of yours. Or at least the copy you spoke of. What a pity you don't have the copy still--everyone would believe it was the original!"
Carolina thought of the last time she had seen the copy-those blood-red rubies and diamonds that sparkled like tears, clutched in Gilly's dying hand-and shivered. She supposed she would have nightmares forever about the de Lorca necklace, for had she not sent it to the Tidewater, had she offered it to Kells soon enough, they might have been safe up the Cobre River when the earthquake broke apart and inundated Port Royal. She didn't tell Penny that-it was all too fresh and hurtful, that the necklace was, in her mind, tied up with Kells's death.
"Well, it's good to know the Lightfoots are still lording it over the Tidewater," Penny said complacently. "What do you hear from Virgie? Has she landed a man at last?"
Carolina launched into the story of Virginia's early tragedies, ending with, "But everything turned out well for her. She's married now to Kells's brother Andrew and living on the family estate in Essex. She wrote me she is expecting her second child in late summer."
"Little Virgie," murmured Penny. "Married now and soon to have two children tugging at her skirts. And I was still thinking of her as a schoolgirl!"
"We're none of us schoolgirls except Della and Flo," said Carolina with asperity. "And you and I can never go back to what we were."
"Oh, I don't want to go back," Penny said quickly. "I want to go forward and find something better. I'm sure there is something better-there must be; it certainly isn't here!"
She looked about her with some distaste at the cramped confines of their cabin.
"Actually I was almost glad that Emmett acted so badly. I mean, it severed all bonds between us, and it ended any thought that I should go back to him because, after all, he had gotten up the nerve to elope with me to the Marriage Trees. And anyway, there couldn't be any question of going back to him." She shrugged. "He'd only have sold me again-probably for more money this timel"
"Penny." Carolina took a deep breath for she wasn't sure, in spite of her offhand comments about Emmett, how Penny was going to take this. "Emmett's dead."
"Is he indeed?" Penny said indifferently. "How did he die? Did Father shoot him?"
"No, he drowned. It was last summer. He was fishing and he fell into deep water and his boots filled up and pulled him under before they could save him."
Penny gave another hard little laugh. "How unpleasant for Emmett-and how fitting. To live an unworthy life and die an ignominious death!"
Carolina marveled at how cool Penny was, at how hard she had become. Gone was the impetuous girl-in her place was a woman to reckon with!
As if to rebutt what her sister was thinking, Penny said lightly, "You must remember how relatively innocent I was at the time I knew Emmett. You might say he introduced me to the hard facts of life. I suppose I should be grateful to him and mourn his passing."
Carolina said hastily, "So you lived with this first mate on New Providence?"
"For a while, yes. I enjoyed sleeping with him-when he wasn't drunk and abusive. But he was too possessive, he wouldn't let me branch out. And he was almost as rough as Red Beard. I didn't like having my eyes blacked so I looked around for a way out-and I found it."
"You-found it?" Carolina frowned.
"Yes." Penny gave her a sunny smile. She enjoyed shocking her younger sister, who wore her heart on her sleeve. "I decided no one man could drive him out of port-but two could. So I accepted matelotage from the two leading pirates of all New Providence and set up my little homestead in the fanciest shack in Nassau."
"Matelotage?" gasped Carolina. "But that's--"
"An old buccaneer custom," smiled Penny. "I see you've heard of it?"
"Heard of it? I nearly blundered into it once-but of course Kells saved me."
"Of course he did," Penny agreed genially. "There was, however, no charming buccaneer around to save me."
Carolina was staring at her sister as if she had never seen her before, for this was a new view of Penny, indeed. Matelotage was an old buccaneer custom. When two buccaneers wanted the same woman, and the woman was agreeable-or perhaps could not decide between them-they tossed coins for her, and the one who lost the toss married her. The other became the matelot and took the husband's place in her bed when the husband was away.
Penny stared back at her coolly. Carolina decided Penny could face anything down.
"Since one or the other of them was usually in port, it gave me a kind of sway there. I must say that I have enjoyed being Queen of New Providence."
So that was the way Penny saw it-Queen of New Providence. And Carolina supposed Penny must have been just that, lording it over these wild men who yearned to possess her. Penny was her sister, she still looked the same-indeed the wild look she now wore had made her even more beautiful-but those words had made Carolina feel she was talking with a stranger. Sisters, but how very different they had turned out to be!
"I am not really sorry to leave Nassau." Penny smiled lazily at Carolina. "I was growing rather tired of it."
"But-your husband, your matelot!" blurted out Carolina. "I heard they killed all the men on New Providence."
"Oh, Carson is still at sea and they'll not have killed Jock." Penny shrugged. "When last I saw Jock, he was running for the jungle and calling to me to come with him.
He'll survive."
"I'm surprised you didn't go with him. After all, you could have been killed there on the beach when the attack force landed."
Penny's lazy look from beneath a fringe of russet lashes was expressive. "Carol," she chided, "men don't kill women who look like me-not if they can help it."
Carolina gazed upon her sister. It was probably true.
Penny yawned delicately. "They consider us prizes. I was about to follow Jock into the jungle when I realized that. Then I threw away my cutlass, ripped my shirt open at the front and began combing my hair instead. The battle roiled around me, but no one ever touched me until a French officer came up to where I sat on the sand under the shade of a lean-to and bowed and said in very poor English, 'Mademoiselle, will you be so good to follow me?' And here I am."
Carolina shook her head in amazement. "Penny, there's no one like you-anywhere!"
"That's just as well-all things considered," Penny agreed with her gamine grin. "I wouldn't want too many copies of me around! But I don't see why you should be so surprised that I should want a change. I'm tired of being burned black in the sun-" she gestured with a toast-colored arm. "I'm tired of wearing men's clothes because they're 'practical'! I'm tired of eating pirate dishes like salmagundi, full of garlic and pepper! I'm tired of having a cutlass dangling at my hip because I'm afraid I'll be kidnapped and carried off aboard some dirty pirate ship to be doxy to half a hundred men!" She shivered-and then brightened as quickly. "I'd like to go to some new place, wear beautiful clothes, live in a large house, drive out in a coach and six!" Her lazy smile deepened. "Don't look so shocked, Carolina. I was born to be a courtesan."
"Well, where we're going you'll have little chance for all that," Carolina said dryly.
"We're more apt to be slaves in Havana."
"Oh, I don't know about that." Penny stretched again and got up restlessly. As she moved, Carolina was again reminded what a beautiful body her sister had, what feline grace. A pair of amused dark blue eyes considered her. "Who knows, I might even end up being the mistress of the Governor of Havana!"
Captive
Like all in the human condition,
Who were never born to win,
We weep for our sins of omission
And all that might have been. ...
His dangerous smile in the morning Which beams in her bed so bright Is only matched by the lecherous grin Which crosses his face by night!
HAVANA, CUBA Summer 1692
Chaperoned by lofty galleons whose fore and aft towers gleamed gold in the sun, the Ordeal was shepherded through the narrow entrance to Havana's harbor. For the staid old ship it had been a tempestuous journey with its load of prostitutes and bawds from the sands of New Providence. The Ordeal was still negotiating the Northwest Providence Channel and had not yet turned south into the Straits of Florida before trouble broke out. Two bawds who had fought over the same man on the beach at Nassau took up the battle again and broke bottles over each other's heads. The scandalized crew of the Ordeal-who had by now become mere lackeys of their Spanish masters commanding the ship-had tried to save both contestants, but one of them died of a cracked skull.
That subdued the ladies momentarily, but somewhere between Gun Cay and Riding Rocks some rum was smuggled from the officers' quarters into the large community dormitory the women shared below decks, and they all became royally drunk and burst out upon the deck, some half-dressed and some not dressed at all. In the general uproar it was very hard to restore order, especially since most of the sailors had been long at sea and the sight of a laughing woman, stripped to the waist and waving a bottle, was more than many of them could bear. Heedless of the consequences, many of them had bounded forward, and a wild drunken jig had ensued, with much stamping up and down the deck. Captain Simmons had watched, awed and stricken, as bodies in various stages of undress and passion had piled up in any convenient place-indeed, as his first mate had muttered, you could trip over them.
In their cabin Carolina had been telling Penny all about school in England, about Reba and the Marquess of Saltenham and Reba's mother and all the trouble they had caused, when the commotion outside erupted.
"Do you think it's a mutiny?" Carolina had interrupted her reminiscences to ask alertly.
"No." Laughter sparkled in Penny's dark blue eyes as she helped Carolina barricade the cabin door. "I think it's but another brawling night in Nassau's taverns brought aboard the Ordeal!" She smiled at Carolina. "Shall we playa hand of cards, Carol? It will take your mind off things."
To Carolina's astonishment, Penny produced from the folds of her flowing shirt a rather worn deck of cards. It was the last thing Carolina would have expected to see carried by someone in Penny's perilous circumstances, but at the moment, keyedup as she was, she welcomed any diversion. Gratefully she joined Penny at the small wooden table which was practically the cabin's only furniture.
"I met someone in Port Royal who knew you-quite
well, I was given to believe," she told her sister soberly as Penny dealt the cards.
"Really? Who? I'll wager he was handsome. And a bounder. Bounders are the only kind of men I seem to care for!" Penny favored her younger sister with a mocking look.
"It wasn't a man. It was a girl named Gilly."
Penny's russet brows elevated. "Oh, yes, I knew Gilly. But"-she studied her sister, frowning now-"I am surprised that you did."
"I-rescued her on the street in Port Royal. She was being pursued by two bawds who claimed she had stolen their petticoats."
"No doubt she had!" laughed Penny.
"I took her into my household as a maidservant."
"That was a mistake," murmured Penny, leaning back and studying her cards.
Carolina sighed as she picked hers up. "That was what Kells thought." A shadow of pain passed across her lovely mobile features as she spoke his name, and then was gone. "But I took her in anyway."
"You have too much kindness!" laughed Penny. "I'll wager Gilly stole your ear bobs-and anything else that was handy!"
Carolina gave her sister a troubled look. "I thought she worshiped you," she said abruptly. "When a dinner guest said one night that he considered you plain, Gilly smouldered and later leaped to your defense!"
"Did she now?" Penny looked pleased. "Well, she used to follow me around Nassau, begging me to teach her to cheat at cards! It made people wary of me, I can tell you!
I made the mistake of rescuing her, too, when she first arrived, from a nasty fellow who'd have sold her to anyone with the price-but it did no good." She shrugged. "She took up with another one just as bad."
"She's dead," said Carolina. Penny looked up. "Oh? One of the bawds knifed her, I suppose?"
"No." Carolina shuddered, remembering how Gilly had died, with her grubby hand rising out of the water clutching imitation gems. She told Penny about it.
Penny did not seem to care. "So she died in the act of stealing your jewels? That should be enough to keep you from mourning her!"
"Perhaps she was restoring them to me-or trying to," Carolina said staunchly. She didn't know why she was defending Gilly, who certainly didn't merit it. She supposed she was rejecting this new casual hardness she found in her sister.
Penny sniffed. "Gilly left Nassau with some bracelets she stole from me--she was seen taking them! Carolina, you're a fool to be so soft-hearted!"
There seemed to be nothing to say to that. Carolina supposed she was. She settled down to playing cards, occasionally starting at some louder than usual howl from the deck.
"I see you haven't lost your skill," she murmured, when Penny beat her easily.