Authors: Kaye Dacus
Three more brigands stepped forward, pistols aimed at Ruben’s heart.
“I would back away if I were you, boy.” Winchester stepped toward Ruben. “Unless you want to be the one dying today.”
Ruben released him and held his hands out in front of him before dropping them to his sides.
Winchester took his time straightening the front of his shirt. He stepped around Ruben to speak to the man holding the gun to the back of Levi’s head. “The boy will be the messenger. Shoot the old man in the leg.”
“No! I won’t let you.” Julia turned, thinking to put herself between Levi and the man intent on doing him harm, but in her injured state she could not move fast enough. Winchester’s hand whipped out and grabbed her arm, yanking her back and causing enough pain to bring tears to her eyes.
“Shoot me! Shoot me!” Asher struggled against his captor, trying to gain his feet and knock the man standing over his father away. But his position on his knees put him at a disadvantage, and Winchester’s man easily subdued him.
Julia closed her eyes and braced herself, but her legs still gave way at the report of the pistol. Her knees hit the ground hard, the impact taking her breath away once more. Left hand pressed to her aching ribs, Julia opened her eyes. Levi lay on his side, clutching his bleeding thigh with both hands. Winchester stalked over and lifted a trembling Asher by the lapels of his red livery coat.
“Take the spare horse and ride back to Tierra Dulce fast as you can. You tell them their mistress has been taken. Tell that overseer that if he wants his mistress to live, he’d best send for her husband. My brother would like a word with him.”
“My father—”
“Will stay here and bleed to death if you aren’t fast enough.” Winchester pulled a sealed letter out of the top of his boot and handed it to Asher. “You give this to Jeremiah. It tells him everything else he needs to know. Now”—he motioned for someone beyond the boy to come forward—“get on this horse and ride for Tierra Dulce as if your father’s life depends on it. Because it does.”
Julia’s heart broke for the young man as he dashed his sleeve over his eyes before mounting the horse.
“I’ll be back, Pa. I’ll bring help.” He turned the horse back the direction they came and kicked it into a run.
Julia tore a long, wide strip from one of her petticoats and, taking advantage of Winchester’s momentary lapse of focus on her, went to Levi and began to bandage his leg.
“Saint Julia to the rescue.” Winchester sneered, grabbing her arm to yank her away from the groaning man. But he did not order the bandage to be taken from Levi, who managed to sit up and begin wrapping the strip of linen tightly around his wound.
“Come. The commodore does not like to be kept waiting.” He dragged her toward the treeline a few yards from the edge of the road.
“Who is the commodore?”
Winchester’s smile was anything but pleasant. “You’ll see. I believe he would be angry with me if I spoiled the surprise.”
“Why are you doing this?” She struggled to free her arm from his injurious grip.
He tightened his hold. “Because it’s time your family and the Ransomes pay for what they did to us.”
Confused, Julia stopped struggling. “Did to you? What do you mean?”
He whipped around and leaned his face into hers. “You ruined our lives. All of you. The whole lot of you Witheringtons and Ransomes.” He straightened, as if remembering himself. “But I will let the commodore explain it. After all, he was the one directly involved. Now, get on the horse.”
“I think I may have broken a few ribs when the carriage overturned.”
“And why is that a concern of mine?” Winchester grabbed her around the waist and lifted her off the ground. Perhaps he meant to throw her up onto the horse’s back, but he did not have the strength. She grabbed onto the saddle, and though it sent fresh spasms of agony through her torso, pulled herself up into a sidesaddle position on the regular saddle.
“Give me your hands.”
She held her hands out in front of her. Winchester tied them together and then secured the other end of the long rope and the horse’s reins to the saddle on his mount.
Rather than take the road, Winchester and his men headed for the grove of trees. Julia clung to her horse’s mane, terrified of falling off and being dragged behind Winchester. Riding was not something she counted among her accomplishments. And without a proper sidesaddle, the prospect of sliding off the leather seat below her was all the more real.
Pain became her constant companion for the next hour. Julia stopped trying to figure out where they were going, as thinking interfered with her ability to try to ignore the pounding ache in her right side. Closing her eyes made her feel the way she did the first few days out at sea.
At long last Winchester stopped and dismounted. He placed his hands on Julia’s waist and helped her slide down from the tall mount. Several men came out of the underbrush surrounding them.
“Weren’t followed, Mr. Winchester.”
“Boat’s ready and waiting for us.”
“You got the bird? Commodore’ll be mightily perturbed if you don’t have the right one.”
She did not recognize the beach or cove. Asher’s ride to Tierra Dulce would have taken too long for her to have even a faint hope that men from the plantation would come crashing down the side of the bluff and rescue her. Her only recourse was to pray word would reach William quickly.
No matter what position she found herself in, sitting or standing, as long as she did not move overly much, the ache in her side remained bearable. Winchester positioned her in the middle of the jolly boat. She stared ahead at the ship looming ever larger ahead of them in the secluded bay. They could not be far from Kingston Harbor. She tried to hold on to the hope that this ship would be spotted and stopped before they could take her away.
She held her breath on the ride up the side of the ship on the bosun’s swing, fearful each moment their rough handling of the rope would result in dumping her into the water. With her hands still bound together, she eased herself off the board seat and stumbled before finding her balance.
Fear gripped her innards at the mangy, fierce collection of men who surrounded her on the deck. She turned toward the stern, intent on marching to the captain’s cabin and demanding an explanation. But before she got three steps, the crowd parted for a solitary figure coming toward her.
Squaring her shoulders, she wiped her expression of all fear, pain, and fatigue. The man, obviously the commodore to whom Winchester referred, stopped about five feet from her. A tall man—taller than William—his shoulder-length, straight hair had been bleached by the sun, contrasting with the dark whiskers across his jaw as if he had not shaven in several days. He glared at her through narrowed blue eyes and crossed thick arms over a muscular chest.
“I demand to know why I have been brought here against my will.” At least with her hands bound, he could not see them trembling.
“You
demand
?” The man laughed, showing dimples in his cheeks. How could someone so despicable have dimples like that?
He closed the distance between them, grabbed the rope dangling from her hands, and jerked it. She stumbled toward him.
“You are in no position to make demands, Mrs. Ransome.”
“You…you have me at a disadvantage, sir.” Her stomach churned and her heart pounded.
He dropped the rope, stepped back, and flourished a bow. “Well, do forgive me, madam. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Commodore Arthur Winchester. But mostly, I am simply known as the pirate Shaw. This is my flagship,
Sister Elizabeth.”
She could not disgrace herself by giving in to the sudden weakness in her legs. “What do you want from me?”
“From you?” He laughed again, but his blue eyes remained cold. “You are nothing but a pawn, the instrument with which I intend to exact justice on the men who ruined my life. Welcome to your new home, Mrs. Ransome. It will probably be your last.”
I
’m going with you.”
Salvador turned to see Charlotte exit his quarter gallery privy once again dressed in Suresh’s trousers and shirt. For the past two days, she’d been cooperative—overly so—and he had been waiting for her next outrageous action.
“No. You will stay here, where it is safe.”
“Are you saying I’m not safe with you?”
He closed his eyes and sighed. Heaven help Captain Ned Cochrane in marrying this woman. “You will be safer here. ’Tis a dangerous climb to the top of the bluff, and I need not tell you the consequences if someone from
Sister Mary
spots us. Lau assured me he took care of all of the lookouts on this side of the bay, but there may be others.”
She mimicked his cross-armed stance. “Would you rather I tie up Suresh again and sneak onto the boat, or would you rather I jump overboard after you leave and swim to shore?”
“I vote for jumping overboard,” Suresh mumbled from his position behind Salvador.
Salvador fought to maintain his stern expression. “Have you been this difficult all your life?”
Charlotte cocked her head, as if considering. “No. I kept this to myself most of my life. I did not want to do anything that might upset Mama.” She shrugged. “I have a lot of years of holding it all in to make up for.”
At least she was honest about it. “Do you think yourself capable of making the climb in quick order?”
“You would be surprised to find out what I am capable of.”
“Oh, yes, your month’s experience as a midshipman.” His own experience his first months aboard a ship reminded him how quickly the job must be learned.
“Almost two months. And I was promoted—”
“Yes, yes, promoted to watch captain above boys with more seniority.” When this was all over, he would sit Ned Cochrane down and find out exactly what the man had been thinking to not immediately turn Charlotte over to her brother. For surely the man had recognized her as soon as he saw her, disguised or not.
Just as he himself had recognized her when first seeing her dressed as a boy? He shook his head over his own folly.
“So?”
“So?”
“Can I go with you?”
He wouldn’t put it past her to find some way to follow him ashore, and Declan and Suresh would lead the mutiny and maroon both him and Charlotte on a deserted island should her scheme involve either of them again.
“Yes, you can come. You will need stouter boots than that. Suresh—”
The steward bumped him out of the way and motioned Charlotte to sit on the sofa so he could replace the shoes she wore with a pair of his own sturdy boots. Once he finished that, he handed her a pair of thick leather gloves and a straw hat.
“Wear these to protect your hands when you climb. This will keep the sun from your face. When you tire in climbing, rest and catch your breath before continuing.”
Charlotte nodded at each piece of advice. “Thank you, Mr. Suresh.”
Suresh offered his hand to assist her to her feet. “Do be careful, miss.”
“I will.” She turned to Salvador. “I’m ready.”
With a curt nod, Salvador led the way out onto the deck. Rather than acknowledge his captain, Declan, standing watch on the quarterdeck, tipped his hat to Charlotte. Lau bowed to her and motioned for her to precede him down the accommodation ladder. The sailors manning the launch made a space for her in the middle.
Salvador chewed the inside corner of his bottom lip. Good thing he would soon be giving up the pirate trade, settling his debts, and moving on to a life as a respectable merchant ship captain. After this experience, he wasn’t certain his crew would ever be the same.
As soon as the boat scraped the sand, Salvador leaped out onto the beach. He turned to assist Charlotte, but before he could raise his hands to catch her around the waist, she bounded over the side and landed lightly beside him. Lau followed immediately behind.
“When you see us begin our descent, man the boat and prepare to return to the ship upon our return.”
“Aye, aye, Captain.” Picaro touched the brim of his hat. While having Picaro commanding the boat crew was not the best use of his second mate’s abilities, the friction between the Irishman and Declan made Salvador want to find ways to keep them separated, especially when he was not there to mediate and diffuse the situation.
The ascent up the side of the mountain began easily enough. Though no trail existed, by choosing a diagonal path they could walk almost upright.
“Captain Salvador, how did you know of this hiding place? If Shaw uses this bay often enough that you knew of its existence, how has he never been caught? Surely it would be a matter of simple tactics for the Royal Navy to wait until both ships are docked here, block off the entrance, and fire upon the ships until he surrenders.”
He glanced over his shoulder at Charlotte. Already winded himself, her sprightly step and long speech betrayed no sign of her tiring or feeling the physical strain. He took a deep, burning breath and continued up the ever-steepening slope. “It has been tried. Why do you think there was an opening for your brother to take command of a squadron of ships on this station? Shaw is too cunning to allow himself to be trapped in an inescapable position. And even when outgunned by three Royal Navy ships of the line, he was more willing than they to sacrifice everything.”