by Merry Farmer
Grand-mère sighed. “Yes, well, he died young. There was no love lost between me and his family. I had no choice but to marry again. And so I did, to your grandfather. This time, I had no grand illusions. It wasn’t so bad…as marriages go.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Is this supposed to sound encouraging? I no more want a marriage now than I did five minutes ago.”
The old woman chuckled. She patted my knee. “I’m not trying to convince you to get married. You know I would never do that.”
Her matter-of-fact tone brought tears to my eyes. I nodded. It seemed insufficient. My voice cracked as I whispered, “Have I…have I ever told you how wonderful you are?”
Grand-mère smiled and cupped my cheek. “It’s you who are wonderful. You are brave and smart and responsible and kind. I don’t know how your father managed to raise a woman so unlike himself, but I’m glad he didn’t stamp out your spirit. Without you, I wouldn’t be here, finally in control of my life after fifty years of doing what was expected of me.”
Tears overfilled my eyes and spilled down my cheeks. I drew back to brush at them. “I don’t think I’d be here without you, either. Somehow, I don’t think I would’ve gotten far.”
Grand-mère scoffed. “Oh, you would have managed. You’re resourceful like that. Do you recall our first night aboard? Not one of us knew how to steer a ship!”
I laughed. “Lexi did.”
“In theory. It was you, all of you, who put it into practice. I’ve never felt so alive or proud as I have while watching you grow into your own women.”
I blinked away more tears, my throat thick as I leaned my head against her shoulder. But I smiled, thinking of those naïve women who had come aboard our first night, believing themselves invincible. “We did all right for ourselves, didn’t we?”
Grand-mère patted my knee. “That, you did.”
The silence wrapped around us as we sat like that, companionable this time. I drew in a deep breath, then another, finally feeling that horrible weight on my chest start to lift. Yes, I was sad and regretful and angry at the way Milton had ended our time together. But with the support of my family, I would persevere. And Grand-mère was right. I was resourceful.
On the deck, Aludra, Evelyn, and Caleb went down to the mess. With them gone, I felt as if Grand-mère and I were starting this frightening journey all over again. A new beginning, having cast off the past.
Except this time, I didn’t want to cast away everything.
“I didn’t have to marry again, you know. After your grandfather died, I could have lived with you and your father in Sainte-Domingue. Perhaps I should have. But I thought marriage was the only path for me to take, so I found a like-minded friend. We had a very happy marriage.”
I lifted my head. “You did?”
Grand-mère gave me a watery smile. “Oh, yes. You don’t think he would have moved heaven and earth to entail me the estate if we didn’t like each other, do you?”
I suppose I hadn’t considered how she had come by the estate. “I…never met him.”
She was still smiling, although it was bittersweet. “He was a kind man, and a good friend when I needed him. I miss him often.” She laughed and shook her head. “He would have hated sea life.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle along with her. “Then why do you think of him so fondly?”
Grand-mère’s smile grew, her gaze distant as if she were peering into the past. “Because love comes more than once in this lifetime, and it comes in all different forms. He would have hated this life, but if I’d asked, I think he would have tried it. For me. He would have been every bit as proud to see you girls take charge of your lives.”
I swallowed against the lump in my throat, suddenly afraid to ask a question that seemed too personal. “Why didn’t you ask?”
Why hadn’t I asked Milton to stay? Asked for more time to consider our future. Asked… Asked to make the decision rather than having it made for me.
“I was raised always to think of my husband, never myself.” She narrowed her eyes at me, her expression cutting. “I want you to think of what is best for you.”
Logically, Milton had made the right choice, the difficult choice for us both. I didn’t want to live caged. This, captaining my ship, becoming a thorn in Napoleon’s side, and doing what I could to help other women in need—this was what I had been born to do. As much as it hurt, as much as I would have liked to come to the same decision on my own, Milton’s choice was best for me.
He had truly loved me, truly understood me, if he was willing to make that choice to ensure my happiness. I didn’t feel happy now, but I would with time.
My throat ached with unshed tears as I tried valiantly to smile. “Like you said, love comes around more than once in this lifetime.”
Grand-mère squeezed my hand. “That doesn’t mean you should show it the door when it does come. What is right for you?”
The tears choked me as they poured onto my cheeks. I shook my head, my voice high. “I don’t know.”
I sounded so lost, so set out to sea. Hearing my own voice made it that much more real. “I don’t want to leave the ship, but I’m afraid I made a mistake. I…I love him.”
Gently, Grand-mère wiped my tears from my cheeks. “I know, cherie. But there are more than two possibilities. Two years ago when he first proposed, your choices were to say yes or to say no. You absconded in the night with the ship instead, and it was the right decision for us all.”
I blinked hard, trying not to melt into a complete watering pot. “If I get married, I’ll lose my freedom. I’ll be property in the eyes of the law. I’ll be bound to his bidding.”
We rescued women every week who had no power of their own until we gave it to them. I never wanted to be in that position again, and there was no court in any country that would sign in my favor.
Grand-mère chuckled and pinched my cheek. “Oh, I doubt any man could bind you, not even Milton. But again, you’re looking at this as though there are only two options: marry him or leave him. I thought those were the only options, too, when I was growing up. But you, my dear, you’ve rewritten all the rules. Were you happy while he was on board?”
I swallowed hard. “Deliriously so. I always knew it would end.”
“Because you won’t leave the ship.”
I nodded. “And he cannot stay on it.”
There it was, written plain as day. What we wanted was too disparate. There was no happy ending for us both.
Grand-mère retracted her hand and threaded her fingers through mine. “It sounds as though you both have something very important to you, and in both cases, it involves the sea. You will survive without him. I think you’ll grow even stronger. But if you were happy? I don’t want to see you lose your joie de vivre, not for a second. A love that is built on mutual respect, support, and freedom…that might be worth seeking innovation.”
More tears bubbled up, and I was helpless to stop them. “He’s already left. If we ever meet again, we’ll be enemies. Our time has passed.”
It sounded so achingly, painfully final. When Grand-mère wrapped her arm around me, I relaxed into her embrace.
“Promise me you won’t close doors on yourself. That’s what freedom truly is. Whatever your past, Jeanne, I want you to be happy. Promise me you’ll seek happiness.”
I was tired. Far too tired for this conversation. Wearily, I mumbled, “I will, Grand-mère. But…not today.”
I didn’t know if there was a solution. But beneath all this bone deep weariness, a fire burned in me. I wanted to have a voice.
Chapter 15
Live By Your Own Rules
Like a wolf cornering prey, we trapped a fast-moving supply ship on its way to resupply the French Navy. Chaos reigned on the ship as my crew jumped to Aludra’s cues, scrambling up and down the rigging, clipping and unfurling sails, turning them to catch the right breezes to gain ground on the other ship. Other crewmembers waited by the guns, their bodies vibrating with te
nsion. The flag woman worked like mad, signaling for surrender from the supply vessel. As it sailed up the rocky coast, it made no indication it was ready to surrender.
My crew’s enthusiasm was infectious. As I stood on the poop deck next to Grand-mère at the helm, Hannah at stern, and Tamara in between us, I felt lighter than I had in a long time. This was the exhilaration I had felt shortly after stealing my ship. This was freedom. And it was making a difference in the war, however small.
Next to me, Hannah called out obstacles she spotted with the spyglass as she scanned the rocks ahead. Grand-mère wore a broad grin as she deftly turned the ship to avoid every one of them. The wind whipped in my curls, and I gripped the front rail of the poop deck hard. As I held my breath, I realized we were gaining on the supply ship. But would we be fast enough? Soon, the enemy ship would sail past the rocky outcropping of cliffs and into the open sea, where we wouldn’t have it hemmed in. A small vessel like that was much more skilled at maneuvering than we were.
My heart in my throat, I watched us chase the ship down and hoped.
Yards away from the end of the cliffs, a fleet of three ships sailed into view in front of the supply ship, cutting off its escape. They surrounded it, leaving the supply ship no choice but to clip its sails and weigh anchor. Hannah gasped, dropping the spyglass from her eyes.
“It’s the British!”
Would they open fire upon us? My stomach flipped as my blood turned cold. But as I shouted the order to fall back, I could only think of one face in my mind’s eye.
Milton. Would I always think of him when I was staring down a British ship?
From high in the rigging, Cassaundra shouted down, her voice thinned by the wind and distance. “They’re signaling to parlay!”
Tamara scowled, crossing her arms. “With us or with the French?”
I couldn’t imagine any British Navy vessel talking terms with the French, but I didn’t have an answer.
With everyone staring at me, I had to make my decision quickly. Could it be a friendly ship? Or they might not have recognized us yet.
After clearing my throat, I shouted, “Furl the sails and come in slow. Everyone at the ready if this turns out awry.”
With only one hand to steady the wheel, Grand-mère lifted the spyglass to her eye. She still hadn’t lost her grin. “Oh, I’m not so certain it will.”
I frowned. “Why not?”
She held out the spyglass to me. “Haven’t you recognized the ship on the right?”
When I took the spyglass from her, I found the words on the side of the ship at once. The Lady’s Fortune. Tamara’s lost ship. “The Fortune?”
Tamara clenched her fists so hard her knuckles creaked. Her expression black, she muttered under her breath about the fate she would dole out to those navy dogs.
Grand-mère, on the other hand, looked hopeful. I read the optimism in her face and shook my head. “We have no guarantee that Milton is in command. The ship will have been given to another captain, he said it himself.”
The lead and biggest British ship broke off from the formation, leaving the Fortune and its companion to surround the supply ship. I grimaced, knowing we had lost the spoils. The British Navy would take them for themselves. Despite resigning myself to disappointment, I couldn’t stifle the butterflies in my stomach. The ship asking for parlay, could it be Milton’s?
The ship weighed anchor too far away to determine more than the color of the uniforms of the men on board—navy blue.
From her station as flag woman, Cassaundra relayed a request from the other ship, “Permission to come aboard, Captain?”
I nodded curtly and hollered back, “Granted.”
I could barely speak around the lump of anticipation in my throat. Could it be? I turned, meeting Hannah’s gaze. She gave me an encouraging smile. I bit my lip and held my position.
I hadn’t seen Milton in well over a month. In that time, I’d had plenty of opportunity to think. Right now, with at least forty members of my crew stirring around me and speculating amongst themselves, I had precious little attention to spare for logical thought. I scanned my crew, all of which had become acquainted with Milton during his stay. Near the rail stood Magdalena, the curvaceous Spanish spitfire who shot first and asked questions later, who I’d rescued from a volatile situation in a port in northern Portugal. She, like many of the others, was restless, keeping her pistols within easy reach and maintaining her position near the canons. Across the deck, with her head leaning close to Lexi, was Elspeth, the pale wisp of a thing with a perpetual sunburn on her cheeks to match her flaming hair. With a surprisingly comprehensive vocabulary of profanities, she had joined us near Scotland upon fleeing a broken home. She and Lexi weren’t the only pair engaged in gossip. Those not on edge and ready to fight shot looks at me that I endeavored to ignore. When I turned my attention back to the sea, a small dinghy had been lowered from the bigger ship into the water and was rowing to us. I swallowed hard. Whoever it was, I would meet him soon. After wiping my damp palms on my breeches, I climbed down the steep steps to the quarterdeck to meet the ship.
A single man climbed aboard, the others giving him a wide berth as he swung his legs over the rail to stand among us. Milton. Silence fell, ruptured only by whispers from the women who pretended to be busy with other matters. With twenty paces yet between us, I paused to straighten my cuffs and shirt. The nervous flutters in my belly strengthened as I crossed toward him, feigning boldness. In my mind’s eye, I hadn’t expected him to change from the man he’d been when he’d left me on the shores of Calais. He’d shaved his short beard and stubble, leaving clean, smooth skin. His uniform was starched and pressed, as formal as if he was on his way to meet a prince. But as he met my gaze, his mouth tipping up in a smile, his eyes were every bit as wicked and unrestrained as our nights together. Breathless, I crossed the last few feet to stand in front of him. I opened my mouth, but I found that I’d lost my voice.
In the weeks we’d been apart, I’d been so dreadfully lonely. He made me happy, and I thought, if given a chance, we could be happy again. But I didn’t want that happiness to come at the price of my freedom. But we might have a way if he would agree to an unorthodox arrangement…
Nothing about our time together had been straightforward thus far, so why would our ending be?
Nevertheless, I couldn’t force the words out.
His expression unreadable, Milton lifted a folded sheet of paper. “You sent me a letter.”
The twitters among the crew that had gathered around us fell silent as they strained their ears to hear him.
I swallowed hard, not enjoying the spectacle we made. But if he agreed to my terms, our relationship would be no secret among the crew. Perhaps I could show some vulnerability in front of them, if only to prove my earnestness. “You didn’t give me the opportunity to respond when you left. I had things to say.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Which were?”
I nodded to the page in his hand. “I think the letter suffices to explain them.”
His gaze never left my face despite the women jostling around us for a better view. “Tell me to my face.”
There was something urgent in his expression, something that begged me not to decline. I licked my dry lips and straightened my shoulders. When I felt courageous enough, I looked him in the eye and confessed, “I don’t want to be enemies. We cause no trouble to the British Navy if I can help it, and I promise I’ll endeavor to continue in that vein.”
He tapped one finger against the page, fluttering in the sea breeze. “And?”
I swallowed hard, tasting my fear. Nothing about him in that moment screamed a man in love, willing to do anything not to lose me. I took a deep breath and answered him anyway. “I don’t think our only options are marriage or nothing.”
He narrowed his eyes and studied me for a moment. I held still, not even daring to breathe as I waited for his response. When I said nothing more, he tucked the paper into his pocket, the movem
ent slow and calculated.
“If you’re through with what you have to say, I think it’s my turn.”
I love you.
I couldn’t force the words out, so I bit my lip and nodded. I might have misjudged him. What if he had left, not out of respect for my freedom, but because he hadn’t wanted a future with me? The butterflies tried to consume me from the inside. I rubbed my belly to silence them.
Milton took one last step forward and claimed my hand. “I’ve fallen deeply, irrevocably, madly in love with you, Jeanne Quickblade. I don’t want to be your enemy. If marriage doesn’t suit you, I don’t want it either. I want you on your terms.”
His words rumbled through me, a tingle that started in our joined fingers and swept higher. And lower.
He released me and tucked his hand into his pocket again to emerge with a different piece of paper, this one sealed. “And I want you as my ally.” He held out the envelope.
My throat thick, I drew in a much needed breath and blinked my watering eyes. “What is this?”
“I think the letter suffices to explain.” A smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth.
My hand trembling, I broke the seal and unfolded it. It wasn’t a letter at all, as I discovered when my head started to spin. It was a royal pardon and a privateer’s license. I couldn’t believe it. The piece of paper in my hand was priceless. With wonder, I looked up to meet his gaze once more. “I tried to convince the Navy to grant me a license years ago.”
I still remembered their abject, cruel refusal on the basis of my gender.
Milton seemed to understand the burn of anger I felt along with the relief and wonder. “In a just world, it would not have taken my campaigning to change their minds. I can be rather persuasive when I put my mind to it. In this case, your exploits made it easy to convince them that you would be better served as Britain’s asset than it’s enemy.”