Within a Captain's Treasure (18 page)

But her amusement was fleeting. As the men were put to oar and the skiff moved away from the side of the ship, it took all she had within her to keep her spine straight and not look back. Would he be standing there watching her leave? Was he waiting for her to turn and wave farewell?

No, she wouldn’t look. What if he wasn’t there? What if he was in his cabin raising a glass to the good fortune of finally being rid of her? What if he gave her leaving little more thought than a brief notation in his precious ship’s log. No, she had made a vow to herself long ago not to look back, and no time was it more important to keep that vow than right now. She had said her good-byes.

* * * *

Gavin stood in her spot at the tip of the bow and watched as the skiff carried her away. He kept his posture casual, hanging on to a bit of rigging, yet he refused to move until he could no longer see her clearly. Giving a nod of his head as if satisfied all was done, Gavin turned back to the task of returning his life and his ship to some sense of normalcy.

He hadn’t been the only one watching Alice leave.

MacTavish stood with his thick arms crossed over his broad chest. “Permission te make a wee comment, Capt’n?”

“When have you ever needed permission, MacTavish?”

“Well, beggin’ yer pardon, Capt’n, but yer the biggest horses arse I’ve ’er set me eyes upon.”

“Mind your own business.” Gavin moved past him.

MacTavish called to his back. “We’re it my business, I’d not be fool ’nough te lose the lass, ye bloody fool.”

Gavin swung back. “Your only business is to make sure we’ve enough powder should the British Navy find us sitting here with our backsides hanging out. Or doesn’t a price on that handsome head of yours mean anything to you. I suggest you mind your tongue and get back to your duties.”

“Aye, aye, Capt’n,” MacTavish grumbled. “Yer still a horse’s arse.”

The skiff’s bottom grating across the sand signaled their arrival upon the shore of the Old Dominion. The men scrambled out of the boat and pulled it out of the waves.

Having been on a ship for weeks, Alice struggled to walk on the soft ground. Finch took her arm and chuckled, “Easy does it, Tupper. Ye’ll get yer land legs back soon.” He helped her up the wide, rock-strewn beach.

Passing through scrub pines and wild sea roses, Alice, Finch, and Simons made their way inland until they reached a traveled road.

Simon’s stopped. “Need te say good-bye to ye here, Tupper. British Navy has a stronghold along this coast. Not safe te be seen closer te town less we want te die a few inches taller.”

Alice looked at both men. “I didn’t realize I was putting you all in so much danger.”

“No danger. Less we get caught,” Finch added with a wink. “Quicker we get the
Scarlet
away the better.”

“Still got yer pistol?” Simons asked.

Alice nodded. “Tucked in my boot.”

“Good.” Simons pulled a tied leather pouch from a pocket. “Capt’n wanted ye to have this.” Alice looked at him in question and opened the pouch. “Be yer share of that fat Spanish fish. Ye earned it.”

Alice removed a wrapped parcel that lay upon a healthy handful of gold coins. Unwrapping it she gasped at the sparkle of emeralds and gold that tumbled into her hand. She recognized it at once. A necklace fit for a queen.

Quick to rewrap it, Alice handed it back to Simons. “Return this to Captain Quinn. Tell him, I didn’t earn this.”

“Must ’av wanted ye te have it.” He pushed it back at her.

She stared him down. “I can’t accept it no matter what the reason. Please. See he gets it back.”

“If ye say so.” Simons returned the necklace to his pocket with a shrug.

Alice added the few items from MacTavish to the pouch and closed it tight. Standing in clear view of the road was making her nervous. If it were true and the British were heavily guarding the area, not only were they in risk of being caught, but Gavin and the
Scarlet Night
were sitting in dangerous waters. “You should head back. I’ll be fine from here.”

“Won’t forget ya.” Finch shuffled his feet in the dirt.

Simons nodded. “Been a fine member of te crew, woman or no—”

The pounding of horse’s hooves coming down the road had the men scrambling back into the safety of the tree cover with barely a backward glance.

“Bye, Tupper.” The men called as they disappeared into the underbrush before the team of horses rounded the bend.

“God’s speed,” she whispered before moving off in the opposite direction along the shaded road. The cart approaching slowed to a stop. Calling for the horses to, “Whoa,” the gentle older couple driving the wagon inquired as to whether she needed a lift.

As luck would have it, the couple knew of the Whitmore’s Plantation. It wasn’t too far out of their way, and after the startled expression when the woman first looked upon Alice, they didn’t hesitate to agree to take her there.

Alice had forgotten about her blackened eye. By their reaction, she must look a fright. Fingering it gently she claimed clumsiness as she climbed into the wagon. The elderly man nodded his understanding, but his wife’s shrewd appraisal came with a sad shake of her head and squeeze to Alice’s hand. What would they do if they learned she’d earned her “shiner” in the midst of a pirate skirmish? The poor old woman would faint.

Leaving the shore road behind, the wagon passed field upon field of farmland. Alice closed her eyes and breathed deep of the warm fragrant air. Thankfully, her traveling companions were not of a more curious nature. Conversation was kept light, and Alice soon relaxed in the warmth of the sun and the steady gait of the horses.

As the sun’s rays began to stretch into the last shadows of the day, they made a wide turn into a beautiful tree-lined lane. The old man announced, “Whitmore Plantation.”

Alice insisted they leave her at the end of the lane. They’d already gone far enough out of their way, and it would be dark before they reached their own farm. It was important to her to make this last small leg of the journey alone. She thanked the couple for their kindness and watched as they turned their wagon toward home.

Smoothing her makeshift skirt, Alice ran a hand over her hair and started down the lane. The sun was still very warm even this late in the day. Her hems kicked up the dust from the road. Walking on solid ground still proved odd. Maybe it had something to do with the pistol in her boot chaffing against her leg.

On either side of the lane, past the rich row of trees and lawn, fields of deep green rolled on as far as she could see. Wide-leafed plants grew waist-high in perfect rows. After weeks of endless blue sea, the patchwork of every shade of green was a beautiful change. Up ahead she could make out the grand front entrance of the Whitmore estate. Large white pillars gleamed in the fading light beckoning her closer.

The impressive estate featured a deep-shaded porch, decorated with huge urns of even more foliage and bright flowers to welcome its visitors. A line of inviting chairs rested in the cool recess closest to the house.

Staring up the wide set of stairs, Alice had a moment’s panic. What if, after all this time, the position of governess had been filled? She was weeks late. Would they have gotten word the
Pennington
had been captured? They were sure to think the worst. What if the job had been given to another and she’d come all this way only to be turned away?

Alice clutched the small bag containing all her worldly possessions. The small cache of gold gave her some measure of assurance. She wasn’t destitute, but where would she go? One thing was certain, she was firmly on dry land, on the opposite side of a wide, dangerous ocean, and she intended to stay put. Regardless of what waited for her beyond those doors, she was never returning to England.

She straightened her spine, tugged on the tails of her blouse, lifted the hem of her skirt, and climbed the broad steps. Ornate double doors stood before her. Leaded prism glass flanked each side and caught the fading light. A gilded bell pull hung down. She gave it a sharp pull, and held her breath.

A gloved servant opened the door. He was formally dressed and his quick appraisal of her was followed by a stern frown. “State your business.”

“Good afternoon, may I speak with either Mister or Missus Whitmore please?”

“I should say not.” He gave a quick shake to his head and began to close the door.

“Wait.” She blocked the door with her foot. “I believe they are expecting me.”

He sniffed. “I doubt that.”

Impatience urged her to push past the man and find the Whitmores herself, but she needed to remember she wasn’t on a pirate ship anymore. She needed to conduct herself with some gentility. “Please.” She forced a small smile. “If you’ll tell them Mistress Tupper has arrived. I believe they’ll wish to see me.”

The man’s eyebrows rose. “Tupper?”

“Yes, Alice Tupper. Perhaps I should have started with that. I’m sorry. I was coming here to take on the position of governess.” She was unsure how to briefly explain the events of the last few months. “I was…detained.”

“Mistress Tupper.” He broke into a wide smile and opened the door wide. “Missus Whitmore has been most distressed. She’ll be relieved to see you. Please, come in.” He stood to the side and ushered her in. “They call me Drummond, Miss.”

Relief washed over her. “Thank you, Drummond.”

Entering the coolness of the foyer, Alice was struck by the sheer size of the mansion beyond. Tall cream walls held gilded-framed portraits. Brass finials cupped thick beeswax candles. A gleaming round table featured an arrangement of flowers, which looked like an entire garden planted in the center of the space. An elegant sweep of a stunning staircase resembled an hourglass as it narrowed then flared into an upper hallway and traveled in two directions. Turning around, Alice could see a railed galley ringed the foyer. Large sets of double doors flanked on the right and left. She could only imagine what could be found behind them.

“If you’ll follow me, you can wait in the master’s study. I’ll tell Missus Whitmore of your arrival.”

Following the man’s rigid back, Alice’s original fears surfaced again. “Drummond? Could you tell me, is the position of governess still available?”

“It is indeed.” He stopped, opened another door and stood aside. “Make yourself comfortable, Mistress.”

Stepping into the lofty study, Alice sighed at the rich splendor of the room. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves filled the walls. A tidy desk sat within a bow of stately windows, which looked out upon colorful formal gardens. Lush burgundy leather chairs created cozy seating areas around the room and before a small fireplace. Its firebox, cleared for the warmer months, housed a thriving plant of some sort.

Alice walked about entranced by all the books like a man lost in the desert looking upon a grand lake of water. Beautiful volumes with tooled leather covers followed one another on the shelves. She pulled one down and breathed in its scent before reverently slipping it back into its appointed space.

Running her hand along the rich spines, she remembered the last book she’d read. Gavin had told her to take it with her, but she’d left it behind. Bringing it would have only brought her heartache. Alice crossed to the windows and stared unseeing at the mosaic of color beyond. She was disappointed she’d never had the chance to look through the expensive books they’d secured from the Spanish ship.

Secured.
Alice shook her head. Stolen was the proper word. She’d been among thieves lest she forget. They’d been more interested in the silvered corners than what fascinating reading could be found inside.

And the letters. Beth’s letters. They were something she would never forget. Those hauntingly beautiful letters written in Beth’s gentle scrolled hand. No, she’d never forget them, or the man they’d been written to.

Alice pulled another book from the shelf and flipped through several pages before closing her eyes. Gavin. She held the image of him in her mind. His face, the fineness of his light hair, the way his eyes darkened before he kissed her. She’d remember it all. The arguments, the tender times, the passion of a stormy night. It was all part of the story. Their story. She imagined their words filling page after page. But like all true love stories, it had its heartbreaking finish. Happily-ever-afters were works of pure fiction. Fairy tales. Better she keep both feet planted firmly in the truth. The story of she and Gavin Quinn was over.

Turning to the last page of the book in her hands, Alice traced the words
The End
with the tip of her finger before closing the cover and returning the volume to the shelf.

Behind her, the doors flung open and a lovely woman rushed into the room. No more than ten years Alice’s senior, she wore a gown of pale lavender in a light airy fabric. Lace trimmed the deep, squared neckline and puffed at each elbow. Her hair, piled high, was the color of honey. Wide blue eyes captured hers. Seeing Alice, she clasped a hand over her heart. “Miss Tupper!”

Alice bobbed in greeting, “Missus Whitmore.”

“I insist you call me Isabelle. When Drummond announced you, I swear I nearly fainted. We thought you were dead. Good Lord, look at you. You’ve been beaten. My dear child.” She slipped her arm through Alice’s and led her to one of the groups of chairs. “You poor thing. Look at your clothing. I can’t begin to imagine what you’ve been through.”

Her slight accent and the high singsong pitch to her voice had Alice straining to catch each word. She spoke so quickly, Alice didn’t have a chance to respond.

“When we got word you were coming aboard the
Pennington
, Carlton, that’s Mister Whitmore, of course, we were thrilled. But then, to receive word the ship had been taken by pirates. Well, you can’t imagine how upset we were.”

The scene of Rasher killing Captain Fredericks flashed in Alice’s memory. “Yes, that was...quite upsetting.”

Isabelle gasped and fanned her cheeks. “How did you ever get away? Were they ruthless cutthroats? No, don’t tell me. I couldn’t bear to hear it.” She clutched Alice’s arm. “How awful for you. And yet, here you are. It is a miracle. Wait until Carlton hears. He’s sure to be as stunned as I. How relieved, he’ll be. He’s been hounding me for weeks to fill this position, but I was so upset, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I was sure we’d never find a suitable governess for the children.” She gasped again. “Oh Lord, the children. They can’t see you like
this
. We’ll need to get you cleaned up. A new gown.” She reached for Alice’s cheek and winced. “A bit of powder upon the bruise about your eye, certainly.”