Ransome's Quest (4 page)

Just what he needed. A prisoner who did not know her place, which was cowering in a corner and fretting over all of the horrible things that could happen to her aboard his ship. He went down the companionway to the half deck and shoved his cabin door open.

Charlotte Ransome stood near the stern, hands clasped behind her back, looking out the windows. The door slammed with more force than he’d intended.

Miss Ransome turned at the sound. “Captain El Salvador.” She curtsied, somehow maintaining her balance against the swaying of the ship.

The name sounded ridiculous coming from her. “It is simply Salvador.”

“I must call you by your proper rank, sir.”

He sighed. “Captain Salvador.”

She reached her right hand up and then dropped it. The motion had been familiar—like a naval officer about to touch his hat in salute to a superior. But it must have been his imagination. She was a woman.

“Why were you spying on me and my men?”

Miss Ransome stood with her feet shoulder-width apart and clasped her hands behind her back again. “It is my duty as a captive to learn whatever I can about my abductors and devise a means of escape, is it not, sir?”

He scoffed. “You, a slip of a girl, escape my ship?”

She squared her shoulders. “I will have you know that I spent two months—” Her face flamed and she dropped her gaze to the floor.

Intrigued, he moved closer. “You spent two months doing what?”

“It is none of your concern.” She looked up at him again, this time with a coquettish smile. “I simply wanted to find out why you have brought me here.”

“And what did you learn by listening at the window like a scullery maid?”

“That you took me by mistake. That you intended to take my sister instead.”

“She is not your sister, she is—” Heat flooded Salvador’s face, and he turned on his heel. He had never come so close to revealing what he knew about the Witherington family to anyone. But now Julia Witherington was so near, almost within reach…

“She is what?”

“It is none of your concern.” He composed himself and faced his captive once again. “Yes, you were taken in error. I meant to take Julia Witherington—Julia Ransome, that is—before another pirate could snatch her.”

“Shaw?” Miss Ransome’s voice cracked, hollow and weak.

“Shaw.”

“Is he as vile as the stories make him out to be?”

“Worse.” Salvador dropped into one of the chairs at the heavy oaken table in the center of the small cabin.

“Then what does that make you, wanting to take Julia before he could?” Miss Ransome’s fists settled onto her narrow hips.

He could take the hot coals of guilt from Declan, but not from a girl. He rose and stalked toward her, pleased—and ashamed—when her eyes widened and she drew back until the edge of the window seat took her legs out from under her. She sank onto the bench, grabbing the leather-padded edge.

The fear that flickered in her blue eyes made him pull away. “You know nothing of my motivations, Miss Ransome. You will do well not to speculate as to my intentions.”

“If you would explain them to me, then I would not need to speculate.”

He stared at her in astonishment. One moment she could not hide a flash of fear, and the next she spoke boldly, as if this were her sitting room and he an uninvited guest. “You listened to our conversation. You must know all.”

“I heard that you intended on ransoming Julia, on getting Sir Edward to pay money for her release. What would you do if he refused to pay? Kill her? Turn her over to someone like Shaw if you found you had not the stomach for it yourself?”

Salvador whirled to face her, fist raised.

Miss Ransome did not flinch. Instead, she rose from her seat and stood before him. The light from the windows that stretched across the stern of the cabin illuminated the left side of her face—and the scars beside her eye and down her cheek. Scars that could not be more than several weeks old.

He dropped his fist, his anger over her opinion of him dissipating. “What happened to your face?”

She reached up and touched the red lines. “The ship I sailed here on came under attack on the voyage. I was…hit in the face by flying debris.”

Something in her tone indicated she lied—or did not tell the entire truth. But now was not the time to demand the telling. “You believe I intended to kill Julia if Sir Edward did not pay the ransom, and yet you stand there, bold as brass, with no concern for your own life.”

“W-would you?” She lowered herself onto the window seat again.

He now clasped his hands behind his back. “If you must know, I did not plan to bring any harm to Mrs. Ransome. And extorting money from Sir Edward, while an added benefit, is not my main priority.”

Miss Ransome’s eyes narrowed. “So, why?”

“I wanted to take her before Shaw did.”

“That still doesn’t explain—”

“I wanted to take her before Shaw did to protect her from him.”

The chaos on
Audacious
’s quarterdeck matched the surprise with which Commodore Ransome and Captain Ned Cochrane’s sudden appearance had been met at Fort Charles four hours ago.

Ned railed internally at the necessary delays in getting under sail. He understood the need to review the charts and the information in the files they had on the pirates active in the waters around Jamaica so they could determine a course of action, but the general inefficiency at the fort in responding to Commodore Ransome’s orders to resupply the ships with water and food put them even farther behind the brigands who had taken Charlotte.

He paused in his pacing of the quarterdeck at the change in activity of the crew. Yes, the boatswain had finally given the order to clear the tackle and return the grates to the hatches.

“Cap’n Cochrane, sir.” Boatswain Parr scurried over and stopped in front of Ned, crooking his forefinger and touching the side of the knuckle to his forehead in salute. Like the rest of the crew, Parr looked fit to burst with curiosity about Ned’s reappearance—and the bruising and new scars on his face. “All supplies are laid in, and the supply boats have cleared away.”

“Very good.” Ned turned and motioned the closest officer over. “Lieutenant Hamilton, signal to
Alexandra
that we are ready to make sail.”

“Aye, aye, sir.” The acting fourth lieutenant touched the fore point of his hat in salute and took the stairs up to the poop deck in three bounds, Midshipman Jamison on his heels to record the signal and the reply in his journal, no doubt.

Ned’s heart twisted at the sight of the teen in the midshipman’s uniform. Oh, to go back to the days when the biggest worry he had was trying to figure out a way to ensure no one aboard
Audacious
learned one of their mids was none other than Charlotte Ransome in disguise.

Her presence had made his first few weeks of command miserable—living in constant fear she would be found out or that he would accidentally reveal the truth himself. At least she had been here, with him. Safe. Not held captive by a pirate and being…being…

A cry of agony almost escaped his throat, but he stopped it.
Dear Lord, please keep her under Your protection.

“Sir, reply from lead ship. ‘Weigh anchor and execute your orders.’”

Ned nodded at Lieutenant Hamilton and called for his first officer. Lieutenant Gardiner immediately appeared. “Mr. Gardiner, weigh anchor and take us out of the harbor. Then set course for Black River.”

A center for logging and the rum and slave trades, the town of Black River was also a target of pirates—as well as a gateway to some of their inland hideouts, according to the information Commodore Ransome had.

“Aye, aye, sir.” Gardiner turned and relayed Ned’s orders. The chaos of moments before became well-orchestrated action as sailors manned the capstan to raise the anchor and others flowed up the masts and out along the yardarms to release the sails as soon as the order was given.

Ned took what felt like his first breath since last night as soon as he gave the order to loose the headsails. The white sheets of canvas flapped and then, as soon as they caught the wind, billowed forth and stretched taught, propelling the ship forward.

Navigating Kingston Harbor took a little more skill than leaving Portsmouth and sailing out of Spithead, but the inexperienced first officer and experienced sailing master managed it well together.

Once they put the harbor behind them and Ned had conferred with the sailing master on the course to be followed, he passed word for all of the lieutenants to join him in his cabin.

A couple of minutes later, once all had convened around the long dining table in the antechamber to Ned’s living quarters, he fought a building anxiety looking at the men surrounding the table. After losing
Audacious’
s captain and first and second lieutenants in an attack on the crossing from England, the three remaining lieutenants had taken over the senior positions, with two midshipmen—Hamilton and Martin—receiving field promotions to acting lieutenant to fill the void. Ned eyed all five men critically. Their combined time of service as lieutenants exceeded his own tenure at the rank by mere months.

If they found the pirate ship and engaged in battle…Ned shuddered at the only outcome he could imagine.

“Gentlemen, I thank you for your patience in waiting to hear the explanation behind my sudden reappearance and the urgency in setting sail.” Ned clasped his hands atop the table and leaned forward. “A little more than twelve hours ago, Commodore Ransome’s sister was abducted by pirates.”

Murmured expressions of shock and astonishment flew around the table, as expected.

“The commodore has decided the course of action we are now following. We are sailing west; he is sailing east. He has intelligence on locations pirates in this area frequent, and we are beginning at one of those—Black River. Once we are there, I will go ashore with a small party and meet with a contact, a man who passes along information on pirates to the Royal Navy. What he tells us will determine our next course of action.”

Lieutenant Gardiner glanced around the circle of his peers, as if seeking consensus, before speaking. “Sir, you know we will do our uttermost to fulfill the commodore’s orders and to hunt down the pirate who took his sister.”

Ned nodded at his first officer. “I know you will, Mr. Gardiner.” He looked around the circle too. “We must be on highest alert at all times, as if we were back in the war again chasing Frogs through the Channel. Eyes and ears open, lookouts at all points during every watch.”

When Ned first received the news of the voyage to the Caribbean and their assignment of ridding the waters of pirates, it had been with the excitement of a lieutenant serving under an experienced and decorated commander. But even though Commodore Ransome still held the position of Ned’s commanding officer, Ned now stood in the position of captain—a post he never wanted—with the lives of more than six hundred sailors hanging on his decisions.

The situation he had dreaded for ten years, ever since a decision directly resulted in the deaths of two sailors under his command, now fell upon him. Around the table eager and anxious young lieutenants all looked to him for their orders…and their security and safety. The only face Ned could see, though, was that of Charlotte Ransome.

Determination to rescue her drove away any lingering traces of fear or doubt in his crew’s, or his own, experience and abilities.

He pressed his hands flat on the table. “Men, we may be young, and we may lack the years of experience of the commodore’s crew, but those things do not matter. A woman’s life is at stake. We must save her, at all costs.”

He made eye contact with each of the five men, pleased at the kindling gleams of resolve in their eyes.

“And if we happen to take down a notorious pirate in the process of rescuing Miss Ransome, all the better for us.”

J
ulia stared through the window over the grassy tops of the cane to the sapphire waters of the lagoon beyond. For more than a year she had dreamed of nothing else than coming home to Jamaica, home to Tierra Dulce. Now that she was here, it felt strange—foreign. Almost as if she no longer quite belonged here.

She flinched at the knock on the door that split asunder the silence of the office. “Enter.”