by Bree Wolf
Fighting off the lead that had sunk to his feet, weighing him down, Garrett rushed to the quarter deck where Duncan and two of his men stood, a spyglass in hand, considering the other vessel.
As Garrett and Finn approached, the other two men stepped back, and Duncan turned to meet them. “’Tis one ship,” he said, and the tone of his voice told Garrett everything he needed to know. “I dunno believe ‘tis the merchant vessel ye described, my friend.” An apologetic look rested in his eyes as he gestured Garrett forward, holding out the spyglass to him. “Have a look for yerself.”
Inhaling a deep breath, Garrett stepped up to the bear-like man he had come to see as more than an ally, but a friend. Then he met Finn’s gaze for a brief moment before he accepted the spyglass, feeling its smooth metal casing against his skin.
Tension clung to him as Garrett lifted the spyglass to his eye. For a long moment, he held his breath as his view cleared, and he could see the tall-masted ship on the horizon.
In an instant, Garrett knew that it was indeed not the merchant vessel that he had watched disappear with his wife and son on board. Cursing under his breath, Garrett felt his fingers clench around the small tube in his hands. “D’ye know who they are?”
Duncan sighed, “D’ye see the black sail?”
Squinting, Garrett looked through the spyglass once more. Indeed, one sail was pitch-black, and he half-expected to see a skull and crossbones drawn upon it. “They’re just sitting there,” he observed, watching men like tiny ants crawl around in the rigging and walk across deck. “D’ye think they’ve not seen us yet? They seem to have no intention of approaching.”
“At least not yet,” Duncan grumbled, tension darkening his voice.
Turning to the large man, Garrett took note of the way the muscles in Duncan’s jaw clenched and unclenched. “Who are they?”
Meeting his eyes, Duncan sighed, “As we rarely travel out to sea this far, I’ve never encountered them myself, but I’ve heard of the ship with a black sail. Everyone has.”
Garrett swallowed as Finn stepped forward. “Who are they?”
“A French privateer,” Duncan replied after a glance over his shoulder. “The Voile Noire. She’s rumoured to be ruthless, preying on English ships like a wolf taking down sheep.”
Garrett swallowed, wondering if this was another obstacle Fate had put in his way or if this was the end of his journey. “But we’re not English,” he objected, knowing only too well how weak his argument was.
As expected, Duncan laughed. However, it was a mirthless laughter, holding a good deal of anxiety. “I doubt her captain will make a distinction here.” Holding Garrett’s gaze, he heaved a deep sigh. “We ought to change course,” he said, “while we still can because these men,” he nodded his head toward the Voile Noire floating on the horizon, “will fight.”
Feeling all strength leave his body, Garrett nodded, praying that his wife and son were safe…wherever they were.
Chapter Thirty-Six – Faith Rewarded
Although simple, breakfast on the Voile Noire was warm and hearty, and Claudia ate with abundance. Now, that Captain Duret had all but promised to help her, her spirits had risen from the depth they had plummeted into upon seeing the Scottish coast disappear on the horizon.
“You’re ravenous, Madam,” the Frenchman observed with a chuckle as he once more dangled the small jewel in front of Aiden. Her son had taken an instant liking to the dark-haired captain and had uttered no protest when the man had snatched him from his mother’s arms.
“Do you want me to take him?” Claudia asked, her voice slightly muffled as her mouth was currently otherwise occupied. “I only need one hand to eat.”
Captain Duret laughed, “Finish your food, Madam. Your son and I understand each other.”
Seeing the truth of his words, Claudia continued to eat, wondering about the man with the dangerous reputation. Although he had seemed somewhat terrifying when she had first glimpsed him on board the Voile Noire, he had since done nothing that would inspire fear. On the contrary, despite his claims to the contrary, Henri−information she had managed to extract after at least an hour of incessant nagging−proved to be quite the gentleman. Not only had he allowed her the use of his bed, but he seemed to be quite fond of Aiden, playing with him whenever she needed a moment to herself. “Your arms must be in need of rest, Madam,” he had observed earlier that morning.
“He will cry if I set him down.”
Rolling his eyes, Henri had snatched him from her arms then, his gaze strangely aglow and not at all annoyed as he had looked down into Aiden’s little face. “Your maman is in need of food, mon petit, or she’ll fall flat on her face.” Aiden had giggled at that, which had drawn a large smile onto the Frenchman’s face. “Yes, flat on her face, vraiment?”
“You’ll be a wonderful uncle,” Claudia observed, hoping that it would not be long before she would see Garrett play with his son in a similar fashion. “Will you return to France to see your new niece or nephew?”
Still dangling the jewel in front of Aiden, Henri looked at her, a calculating hint in his eyes. “You ask many questions, madam.”
Claudia shrugged. “I’m curious.”
“Curiosity has been many a man’s downfall,” he observed with raised brows.
“I’m not a man.”
Laughing, Henri shook his head, “You’re incorrigible.”
“Again, you sound like my brother.”
Rolling his eyes at her, Henri shook his head. “If your husband will not find us soon, I might have to insist you walk the plank as your influence on me seems to be most harmful.”
Claudia laughed. Still, her heart skipped a beat at his words. “Does that mean you’ll allow me to return to him when he comes?”
Henri’s green eyes met hers. “If he comes.”
“He will.”
Again, he shook his head. “Your faith in−”
“Sail ho!”
At the call, they both froze, eyes locked as a moment ticked by…and then another. Then Henri sighed and rose to his feet. “We might as well go on deck to see if it is indeed your husband,” he said, offering her his hand. “Or rather an English armada come to sink us to the bottom of the ocean.”
“That’s not funny,” Claudia observed as she rose from her chair and reclaimed her son. “You should not be jesting about these things.”
Opening the door for her, he met her gaze. “I wasn’t jesting,” he said, and a chill ran down her spine. “This is life at sea, and these are times of war, Madam. No more and no less.”
Swallowing the fear that suddenly rose in her throat, Claudia followed the young captain on deck. As he strode toward the quarter deck, always careful to guide her steps, he exchanged a few words with his crew. “It seems it’s not the English armada today,” he said smirking at her. “There’s only one ship.”
Releasing the breath she had been holding, Claudia watched him accept a spyglass from a sailor in his crew and lift it to his face. Her heart beat frantically against her ribs as she awaited his verdict. From this distance, she could not make out more than the rough shape of a ship, which was not much to go on.
“She seems to be Scottish,” Henri mumbled as he surveyed the other vessel.
“Scottish?” Claudia’s heart jumped a mile high, and she had trouble keeping her voice even. “What makes you say that?”
Henri shrugged, turning to look at her. “In my line of work, one develops a certain sense for these things.” Then he held out the spyglass to her. “Care to look?”
Inhaling a deep breath, Claudia nodded. Careful to balance her son in one arm, she reached for the instrument with the other.
“Do you want me to hold him?” Henri asked, doubt in his gaze as he watched her balancing act.
Claudia shook her head. “Thank you, but there’s no need. It might look a bit unstable, but I found as a mother one of the first things one learns is how to continue life one-handed.”
Grinning, Henr
i nodded. “I’ll pass that along to my cousin.”
“You do that.” Lifting the spyglass, Claudia peered through, willing her heart to slow down so her hand would be steady.
After a moment of blurry nothingness, things finally came into focus. Her gaze ran over the ship’s tall masts and down to the deck where men moved about. “They do look Scottish,” she whispered almost breathless as hope surged upward. Immediately, she searched the ship, her gaze skipping from man to man until−
“It’s him!”
“Are you certain?” Henri asked beside her, doubt in his voice. “We’re fairly far away.”
“I’m certain,” Claudia replied with conviction, unable to explain that sense of recognition that she had felt upon seeing the man. Certainly, she could barely make out his face, but her heart knew him to be her husband. Somehow he had found a way to follow her, and now he was here, right there, upon the horizon, waiting to take her home.
Swallowing, Claudia tried to contain the excitement that coursed through her body. This was it. She was so close to going home, to having her family reunited. If only…
“He came for me,” she whispered, meeting the young captain’s eyes. “He came for us, for his family. It’s what you do for someone you love.”
A shadow crossed over Henri’s face, and for a short moment, he closed his eyes.
Claudia wished he would finally surrender his pride and once more seek out the woman he so obviously cared for. Perhaps all this would help him see that turning his back on his heart’s desire could only lead to an empty and lonely life. Perhaps if he saw love overcome obstacles, he’d reconsider.
Smiling, Claudia lifted the spyglass in her hands once more, seeking out her husband standing on the ship’s quarter deck. Then she handed the device back to Henri. “He’s here,” she whispered and waved to the other ship, a large smile on her face.
Chapter Thirty-Seven – Risks Worth Taking
Sighing, Garrett felt the last shreds of hope wither and die in his chest.
Upon hearing the call from the crow’s nest, a part of him had been so certain that his search had finally come to an end. That he was only moments away from seeing his family reunited.
Now, it seemed he was as far away from fulfilling that dream as he had ever been. Where was she? Which course had the merchant vessel taken? Had they changed direction? Or were they simply too far ahead? Would he ever know?
Ignoring the pitying expressions of the men around him, Garrett ran a hand over his face, his thumb and index finger running over his brows and down to his nose, pinching its bridge. What was he to do now?
Then he heard Duncan bellow to his crew, ordering to bring the ship about and change course. Instantly, Garrett’s heart tightened, and a strange sense of loss came over him as though he was making a monumental mistake. Unable not to, he lifted the spyglass to his eye once more, peering through.
Men roamed the deck of the privateer’s vessel, and yet, their movements were not rushed, but spoke of leisure. A tall, dark-haired man strode onto the quarter deck, and the other sailors stepped out of his path.
“The captain,” Garrett mumbled, unable to look away for a reason he could not name.
On the other side of the captain, always blocked by his body, someone moved. Someone who seemed to be wearing skirts as the wind caught in them, stretching the fabric and letting it billow in the wind.
Garrett’s breath caught in his lungs as his heart ceased its normal rhythm. While his mind reasoned that the woman blocked from his view could be anyone, his heart felt a sudden pull, a small tug as though she was calling out to him.
Trying to swallow the lump in his throat, Garrett willed the captain to move, to step out of his line of sight. Instead, the man lifted a spyglass to his face, and Garrett wondered what he would see.
“Are ye all right?” Finn asked beside him. “Perhaps we should head back below deck. Ye look like ye need some rest.”
“I need my wife,” Garrett hissed, his attention still focused on the other ship.
“We’ll find her,” Finn replied, placing a comforting hand on Garrett’s shoulder. “Perhaps not today, but…”
Garrett was far from listening to his friend’s words as he felt his heart speed up. He held his breath as the captain lowered the spyglass and then turned to the woman behind him, offering her the device. The moment she stepped forward, Garrett’s heart stopped.
“They have her!” he exclaimed all but breathless. “Her and my son.” Reeling from the shock of seeing his wife’s lovely face, Garrett stared, his eyes glued to the spyglass as his gaze drifted lower to rest upon the infant lying in her arm.
“What?” Finn demanded, urgency and a hint of disbelief in his voice. “What did ye say?”
Suddenly filled with the need to act, Garrett spun around to face him, reluctantly shoving the spyglass in his hands. “There, next to the captain,” he said as his heart thundered in his chest. “Do ye see them?”
“I’ll be damned,” Finn mumbled, then turned to stare at Garrett. “A woman and child. Are ye certain ‘tis them?”
Garrett nodded, then bellowed Duncan’s name. Snatching the spyglass from Finn, he pressed it into the captain’s hands when he stepped up to them. “My family is on that ship,” he said, watching Duncan’s face pale.
“What?” Squinting, Duncan peered through the eyepiece. “Are ye certain ‘tis yer wife? It could be a ruse.”
Without even a moment of hesitation, Garrett shook his head. “No, ‘tis them. I’m certain of it.” His heart skipped a beat at the mere thought of her, and he could almost feel her presence nearby. For him, that was enough. All his doubt had evaporated into thin air the moment he had laid eyes on her. But would it be enough for Duncan? And even if it was, what would they do now?
No longer were they after a merchant vessel with men who were not trained to fight. Men who only sought to make a profit. Men who felt no loyalty beyond that to their own families.
Now, they were facing a French privateer, and from what Duncan had said, one with a ruthless reputation. One who preferably preyed on English vessels. One with a crew prepared to fight. Was there any way to retrieve his wife and son without loss of life? Did he have any right to ask Duncan and his men to risk their lives in his quest to see his family reunited? What of their wives and children awaiting their return back home?
“How did she end up on a French privateer?” Finn asked, his gaze like theirs fixed on the distant ship.
Duncan shrugged, then sighed. “’Tis most likely that the merchant vessel was boarded, and they were taken prisoners to be ransomed back to England.”
“Do ye think they’ll be taken to France?”
Duncan nodded. “Most likely.” Then he shifted his gaze to Garrett. “’Tis a most difficult situation.”
Garrett nodded, torn about what to do.
“D’ye think they’ll be all right?” Finn asked, his shoulders tense as his dark gaze shifted from Garrett to Duncan, understanding the dilemma they found themselves in only too well. “Will they be treated…with respect?”
Duncan shrugged. “That I canna say. Prisoners taken at sea are ransomed back home, but I canna say in what condition or what happens to them before they are freed.”
Garrett felt his heart clench at the thought of what might happen to his wife and son if he were to do nothing. And yet, what could he do? He was one man.
Swallowing, Garrett looked from Finn to Ian, who was just then climbing up to the quarter deck. Both his friends were married, and Ian was a father as well. Finn might have a child soon, too. Did he have any right risking their lives? And what about Duncan and his men?
Garrett hung his head. “I willna ask ye to risk yer men,” he said, knowing that there was no other way. “It wouldna be right. Ye’ve done more for me than I ever dared dream, and I thank ye for it.”
Finn frowned. “What are ye saying?”
Garrett inhaled a deep breath. “I canna ask any of ye to risk yer liv
es, but neither can I abandon my family.” Ignoring the impulse to argue he saw in Finn’s dark gaze, Garrett turned to Duncan. “But may I ask ye to let me take one of the dinghies so that I can row over to my family.”
Both Finn and Ian objected loudly, their hands grabbing his arms and trying to pull him back to face them. But Garrett stood fast, his gaze on Duncan’s as the other man regarded him with a mixture of curiosity and doubt.
“What’s yer plan?” Duncan asked, scratching his chin.
Garrett shrugged. “I have none. All I know is that I canna leave them on their own. Perhaps if I’m there, I can protect them until they’re ransomed back home. Perhaps…”
“Ye dunno truly believe that, do ye?” Duncan asked, shaking his head. “Ye will be in no position to protect anyone. Hell, they might shoot ye on sight.”
Despair descended upon Garrett as Duncan’s words sank in. “There’s no other way. I canna leave them.”
Duncan was about to reply when a man of his crew stepped up to him and whispered something in his ear. In answer, Duncan frowned, then looked at the man with a hint of incredulity on his face before he turned to meet Garrett’s eyes. “Have a look again?” he said, gesturing to the spyglass in Garrett’s hand.
Feeling his heart constrict, Garrett spun around, his mind picturing all kinds of unspeakable things that might have happened to his family while he had not been looking. His hand trembled, and at first, he could make out nothing. Everything he saw was blurry and out of focus.
Forcing a deep breath down his lungs, he tried again. When his vision finally cleared, the air was promptly knocked from his lungs.
“What?” Finn asked behind him, tension gripping his voice.
“She’s waving,” Garrett whispered under his breath as his body trembled at the sight of her. Holding their son in her arms, she stood beside the dark-haired captain, a large smile on her face and was waving her other arm at him. If Garrett was not completely mistaken, he thought to see a bit of a smirk on the captain’s face.
“Waving? Why would she wave?”