Shortly, Mr. Young entered the room and appeared to be very pleased by the sight of the new waistcoat.
“Good day, Mr. James. The waistcoat looks excellent,” Mr. Young praised.
“The credit goes to Mr. Cunnings. He made it and the most I did was to irritate him with how little I have learned about being a tailor,” Will admitted.
“Nonsense,” Mr. Young replied good-naturedly. “I am sure you’ve learned a great deal.”
“Really, I haven’t,” Will insisted, modestly. “I’m hoping to find a new job as soon as I can.”
“Well, if you need any help finding one, I’d be happy to assist you,” Mr. Young offered.
“Thank you, Mr. Young, I’ll keep that in mind,” Will told him.
“Good.”
A brief pause hung between them until Will spoke hesitantly. “Before I leave, Mr. Young, may I ask you a question?”
“Of course,” Mr. Young answered generously.
Will hesitated again and finally asked, “Why is it that you despise your granddaughter?”
Mr. Young’s expression changed instantly. He stared hard at Will. “And why should the way I feel about the girl be any concern of yours?” He refused to acknowledge that Skye was his granddaughter.
“Because I care a great deal about her,” Will answered.
“Well, perhaps you should find someone else to place at the center of your affections,” Mr. Young said shortly. “Someone without such a reputation. You might find that you’d be offered more opportunities.”
Will stood in shock over the response. “I would never turn my back on Skye. I don’t care what people think of me for being her friend and taking care of her,” he declared. “To me, no opportunity could be worth losing her.”
Clearly uncomfortable, Mr. Young’s voice came out harsher than usual. “Young man, I really don’t see that I have any obligation to discuss this with you.”
“Please, Mr. Young,” Will pressed. “I only want to understand.”
“She is a reminder that my beautiful daughter married a liar and a thief,” Mr. Young said bitterly. “I can only expect that Miss McHenry is of that nature as well.”
Will shook his head, his protectiveness kicking in on high. “Then you would be mistaken. Skye has never stolen or lied about anything in the eleven years I’ve known her. She is an honest, good person who has been living a horrible, lonely life. You may not realize that in the orphanage she has been cruelly ridiculed and rejected by everyone, not just the other children. She is being treated as a servant, having to get up early every morning and work late into the night. She is at the beck and call of the orphanage because no one else will even consider hiring her. Even as a child, she was forced to work for them. It is the only way she can survive and even there she is in danger of being thrown out.” He paused and then said with feeling, “All she wants is a family to love her.”
“How do you know this for sure?” Mr. Young asked.
“Because I’ve seen it and though I have never once heard her complain, she often tells me how much she wants to be accepted and loved. I am one of the few who will listen to her,” Will answered. “I met her yesterday just after she brought you your mail, and she was in tears because of what you said about—”
“Mr. James,” Mr. Young interrupted. “I will not stand here and argue with you over something I would much rather not discuss.”
Will stood quietly in the awkward silence. Arguing had not been his intention. All he had wanted was to try to help Skye, but he knew he was getting nowhere and might possibly have made things worse.
“I’m sorry I brought it up,” he said finally.
Will handed the waistcoat to Mr. Young, who, in turn, gave him payment for it. Saying a quiet good day, Will left the house, defeated. He really had hoped for his discussion with Mr. Young to turn out better.
* * *
Skye scanned Mr. Phillips’ list and searched the shop shelves. A couple of the items were needed for the evening meal so she had to hurry. Just as she finished collecting everything, she glanced up at the sound of the little bell on the door. The intimidating form of her grandfather walked into the shop. Skye’s heart skipped in panic. How could she face him after their encounter yesterday? She spun around so he wouldn’t catch her staring at him.
Skye stood for a long moment, trying to decide what to do. Taking a deep breath, she finally carried her items up to the counter. She shouldn’t have waited. Her grandfather came up behind her with his items only a moment later. Skye stood rigidly, trying to hide the fact that she was nearly shaking inside. The clerk added up her total while she mentally begged him to hurry. She tried to swallow, but her mouth was too dry. She could almost feel her grandfather’s critical gaze boring into her back.
At last the clerk finished and Skye took a handful of coins from her pocket. She counted out the amount, thanking God that she was able with her frazzled mind. Skye gathered up her purchases, nearly more than she could carry, and fled the shop.
* * *
Pricked with a feeling of reluctant curiosity, Mr. Young found himself turning to watch his granddaughter leave. On her way out, he happened to see a small package slip out of her grasp. When he saw that she didn’t realize she had dropped it, he was dismayed. He knew a gentleman would return it to her, but this was not something he had any desire to do.
* * *
Skye tried to shift her packages ever so slightly. Mr. Phillips would be furious if she lost something. Now she wished she had thought to bring a basket. Please, Lord, don’t let me drop anything.
She had gone less than a block when an unexpected voice came from behind her.
“Miss McHenry.”
Skye stopped, nervousness gripping her again. She turned slowly to face her grandfather. Her eyes went first to his face, but they quickly dropped to the package he held. She recognized it as one of her parcels and the very thing the orphanage needed for supper.
“You dropped this on your way out,” Mr. Young informed her in a voice that held no feeling whatsoever.
“Thank you, sir,” Skye replied shyly but politely, as she shifted what she was carrying enough to take the package. “I didn’t even notice.”
Silence. Skye’s heart beat hard.
“Have you always been sent on errands like this?” Mr. Young questioned. His voice was no longer as stern and cold.
Skye blinked in surprise. The last time he’d spoken to her in a civil manner had been when she was a small child.
“Yes, sir,” Skye answered. “Either that or one of the maids, but it’s mainly me.”
“None of the children?” Mr. Young asked.
“No, sir,” Skye answered truthfully. “But that is what I’m paid for.”
Her grandfather nodded tersely. “Well, good day, Miss McHenry.”
“Good day,” Skye replied, her words trailing off into a stunned silence as she watched him walk away. She could hardly believe what had happened as she turned to walk back to the orphanage. It was the first time since she’d been orphaned that her grandfather had not ignored her or treated her with disdain.
The wondering of it nearly caused her to bump right into Will.
“Sorry, Will,” she apologized quickly. “I guess I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.”
“That’s all right,” Will assured her with a smile and made certain that she hadn’t dropped anything. Curious over her distraction, he said, “You seem to have a lot on your mind.”
“Well, it’s the strangest thing. I was just at one of the shops. My grandfather came in while I was there. On the way out, I dropped something without realizing it, and he returned it to me. Not only did he do that, but he asked me a few questions and almost treated me kindly,” Skye said, still bewildered.
Will smiled. Maybe it had done good to confront Mr. Young about his behavior toward Skye. “Perhaps things are changing.”
“I hope so,” Skye replied, though she didn’t want to get her hopes up
too high. Then, remembering what Mr. Phillips had told her the day before, she said, “I’m sorry I can’t talk to you more, Will, but I must get back. Supper is about to be started, and if I’m late I won’t be able to attend church.”
“I understand,” Will said. “If I could, I’d help you carry your things, but I don’t suppose Mr. Phillips or Mr. Cunnings would take kindly to that.”
Skye shook her head with regret. “No, I don’t think so.”
They parted with reluctant goodbyes, and Skye hurried back.
That night in bed, after she had prayed and read her Bible, Skye’s thoughts once again settled on her grandfather. What had caused the change of attitude towards her? Would anything else come of it? Skye asked herself these questions as she slowly drifted off to sleep.
Chapter Four
Dawn had not yet arrived when Skye sat up straight in bed. Something had disturbed her sleep, but it was not the normal cry of one of the children. A loud rumble like distant thunder came from outside. She rose to look out her window. Toward the bay, orange flashes of light erupted in the fog, followed by more rumbling. Cannons. Her mind recognized the sound immediately from her days of sailing.
Skye grabbed her dress and put it on as quickly as she could. If cannons were firing, the city was under attack. Securing the last pin, Skye heard a tremendous crash downstairs. Thankful that all the children remained sleeping, she hurried from the room and down the hall, praying that whatever was happening, God would protect the city.
When she came to the stairs and peered down into the foyer below, Skye saw the orphanage door splintered. All that was left was a gaping hole. Several rough men stood inside, some holding torches, and one had Mr. Phillips by the collar of his nightclothes. Skye had no doubt they were pirates and couldn't imagine their reason for wanting to attack an orphanage of all places. The pirate was demanding something of Mr. Phillips though she could not hear what it was, when all of a sudden several pirates started for the stairs.
Skye pressed herself against the wall, hoping they had not seen her. Her first thoughts were for the children, especially the youngest ones, and how frightened they’d be. It made her forget any fear that she may have had for herself. Determined not to let the pirates reach their rooms, she took hold of a chair that stood beside her and waited, heart pounding.
Right as the first two pirates reached the top of the stairs, Skye swung the chair around and hit them hard. Completely unsuspecting, they tumbled backwards, taking many of the others down with them. After recovering, they tried again. Skye held them back for a moment, but one of the pirates caught hold of her arm and yanked the chair from her hands. She fought desperately to get away, but a second pirate grabbed her other arm and they dragged her down the stairs.
At the bottom, they jerked her to a stop in front of the pirate who had been speaking to Mr. Phillips who now cowered against the wall. The pirate grabbed Skye’s wrist and yanked her close to peer at the ring on her index finger, the ring her father had given her. He nodded in satisfaction to the others and the fearsome group carried her along out of the orphanage. She struggled as hard as she could to get away, but she was no match for their strength as they dragged her through the dark and deserted city streets.
Skye’s efforts exhausted her by the time they arrived at the beach. She looked out into the bay and caught sight of a large, dark galleon. The pirates bound her hands tightly behind her back and made her climb into a longboat waiting on shore.
A deafening boom exploded followed by a crash. Skye looked in the direction of the fort, which stood near the edge of the bay. Flames leapt from the structure and lit up the sky. It seemed that the soldiers there could do nothing against their attackers, for no shots were fired in return. The pirates rowed the longboat with great speed toward their ship.
At the galleon, the men on deck hoisted the longboat up and Skye was forced to board. Pirates scurried around preparing to escape port before the navy ships could be sent after them. Glancing up at the sails, Skye spotted a very large flag fluttering ominously from the mainmast. She shuddered. The flag was red, a sign of no mercy.
The pirates leading Skye came to a sudden halt. A man stood before them, tall and dressed in dark clothes, wearing a big, black, three-cornered hat. In the darkness, Skye could not make out his face, but she could tell that he was grinning evilly.
“Take ‘er below,” he commanded in a low, grating voice as he turned away.
Before she could speak a word of protest, the pirates forced Skye down one of the hatchways and through several stale, dark passageways below deck. Finally, they came to a group of small, iron-barred cells. They shoved her into one and quickly locked it. Standing uncertainly at the door, she watched the pirates leave.
Alone, Skye took in what little she could see of her surroundings, unable to comprehend what had happened or what the pirates intended to do with her. Clearly no one else had been taken captive, and she had seen no loot being brought aboard, which meant only one thing—she was what they had been after. A deep dread settled over her.
Weary from her struggles, Skye backed farther into the cell and sat down with a slight shudder on the damp wooden floor. Waves rushed against the sides as they sailed, the ship’s timbers creaked, and men shouted on deck. Darkness surrounded her. At the orphanage, Skye had not had time to worry, but now a sense of fear crept through her body. Why had she been kidnapped and what did the pirates intend to do with her?
After more than an hour had passed, Skye found a sparkle of light as sunshine streamed through a thin crack in the ship’s side. It gave her a tiny boost of confidence, but then heavy footsteps approached. She rose quickly as two filthy pirates came to her cell. Without a word, they unlocked it and walked inside. Grabbing her arms, they pulled her out and took her above deck. Emerging into the sunlight, Skye squinted, her gaze darting around the ship. Many pirates worked on deck and glared at her cruelly as she was dragged past them.
The pirate captors brought Skye into the large, richly-furnished captain’s cabin. At a table in the center of the expansive space sat the man Skye had seen earlier. She studied him now in the light of day and figured him to be in his late fifties with long, dark hair that was dyed to keep the graying areas hidden. He had it pulled back, and his beard and mustache were short, neatly kept, and also dyed. His dark clothes were quite fine and decorated in part with intricate embroidery. The belts he wore had expertly-crafted silver buckles, and Skye got the impression that he was a man who cared a great deal about his appearance, unlike most of the crew.
The man studied her closely in return, until he nodded slowly to the pirates. One of them yanked out a large dagger. Skye braced herself, but the pirate merely cut the ropes from her wrists. With that, they left the cabin, closing the doors behind them. Skye glanced down at her reddened wrists and rubbed them before looking up again as the man spoke.
“I am Francis, the captain of this ship. Welcome aboard, Miss . . .”
The condescending tone of the captain’s voice made Skye dislike him immediately. He wanted her name, but she refused to say anything.
“Very well, may I ask the names of your parents? Or don’t you know?” he suggested unkindly, determined to get an answer one way or another.
Skye hesitated for a moment. “I don’t think I want to answer that.”
Francis peered at her suspiciously. “Why not?”
“You’re a pirate, why would I?”
“You’re so confident that’s what we are. Obviously you must be familiar with pirates.”
He was trying to trap her. Skye was sure of it. “I saw your flag,” she stated matter-of-factly, neither denying nor admitting to his statement.
“I see,” Francis murmured. “Tell me, have you ever heard of Daniel McHenry?”
Skye’s heart took a hard stumble at the mention of her father's name, and she answered tentatively, “Yes.”
“How?”
“Everyone has heard stories about him.” Skye knew sh
e was not lying. Her father’s exploits as a pirate hunter had been known far and wide. Growing up, she had heard countless stories about him.
“I would not lie to me if I were you, girl,” he warned. “That ring you have on is unique. There is only one man who had it and that was Daniel McHenry. The only person he would have given it to before he died would have been his daughter Skylar. Not only does that prove you are her, but you bear a stunning resemblance to both your parents, your mother particularly. Now you’d better start answering my questions honestly or you’ll be terribly sorry. Your father was Daniel McHenry, wasn’t he?”
Skye stared at Francis for a few seconds, processing his words. How did he know so much?
“Fine,” she confessed. “My father was Daniel McHenry. How is it you knew my parents?”
Francis smiled victoriously. “I only told you my first name. Does Captain Francis Kelley sound familiar?”
Skye took a step back at the shock of it. “You’re the pirate my father sailed for until you kidnapped my mother!”
“That’s right, I—”
“What is it you want?” Skye asked, not waiting for Kelley to finish.
Kelley’s grin widened. “Well, Miss McHenry, I would like to discuss the location of your father’s treasure.”
Everything became frighteningly clear and dread pulsed through Skye. Kelley had kidnapped her specifically to learn the location of the treasure. The treasure she had promised her father she would never give up the location to.
“What about it?” Skye asked cautiously.
“Where is it?” Kelley demanded.
“What makes you think I know?”
Kelley slammed his fist on the table, causing Skye to jump slightly. He had expected to quickly learn everything he’d wanted to know. He hadn’t planned on Skye opposing him. What did you expect from the daughter of someone like old McHenry? Kelley scowled.
The Pirate Daughter's Promise (Pirates & Faith) Page 3