“Oh, but I must disagree,” said Baret. He sat down on a cask and watched Levasseur with a smile. “I should save time by informing you that I am well aware of how she was deceived into nearly boarding the Venture. And that her departure is quite unacceptable.”
Levasseur’s eyes narrowed with mounting temper, but they studied Baret as though trying to judge his reasons. “Unacceptable, monsieur? To you?”
“Yes. I, Captain Foxworth, also a Buckington, am a man of high title—as you should well know by now from Maynerd’s brother Jamie. And as such, my friend Rafael, I cannot permit a kin of mine to be lured away to marry a mere pirate’s brother.”
Levasseur pretended amused toleration. “Monsieur, it is no secret your titled family has dispossessed her since birth.”
“True, but have I, Captain?” he asked innocently. “And my judgment was made with higher motives than even my titled family is aware of.”
Levasseur’s smile faded. “It is I, her French cousin, who shall have the right to make a fitting marriage for her with Jamie.”
Baret smiled thinly. “Is it Jamie you wish her to marry, or do you have designs yourself?”
Levasseur smiled. “Ah, Monsieur Foxworth, you assuredly misjudge me. It is for her welfare I have come and must insist she disembark the Regale for the Venture.”
“No. She stays with me. Shall we talk of the other matter for which you have come?”
“She was to be brought to the Venture until you abducted her.”
“Alas, I confess it is so.”
Levasseur appeared to be taken off guard. His shrewd eyes studied Baret, ignoring Emerald. “If you do not hand her over to me this moment, you may be challenged.”
“As you have charged, I abducted her from the wharf, and I intend to maintain custody until she is mine.”
“Are you willing to duel for her, Foxworth?”
Emerald’s breath stopped. For a moment there was only the sound of the creaking ship.
“Yes, if I must. Are you?”
Levasseur stared at him, his inward rage barely subdued. “I, Captain? Is it not Jamie Boy who lays claim to her?”
Baret rubbed his chin as if to consider.
Emerald met his gaze, glaring, her face hot. “It is Mr. Bradford I wish to marry,” she called suddenly, coming down the steps. “Levasseur, you scamp, why is he not on board?”
Levasseur smiled. “He is below in the longboat, mam’zelle. And I would bring him to you this moment but for Captain Foxworth. He wishes to duel with him.”
Emerald turned to Baret, confused, mortified as his dark eyes held hers. “M’lord, how can you … I mean, you surely jest.”
Baret strode to the rail and looked down, the breeze swirling the plume in his hat. “So this is our charming Jamie Boy, is it? Madam! It is you who jest! You would have this sniveling boy for a husband and refuse my advances?”
She was speechless. Refuse his advances?
But Levasseur was not overwhelmed. He whirled toward Baret. “You want her for yourself?”
“Why not? I exceed you in gallantry. I will make an appropriate sacrifice to obtain her or duel Jamie Boy here and now. I am also more sincere in that I readily admit to wanting her, while you hide behind a mask.”
Emerald didn’t move. She stared at Baret, astonished and embarrassed, but he did not seem disturbed in the slightest. How could he say such things? And in front of so many witnesses!
Levasseur stared at him as well. Behind him his officers gathered, gaping with surprise at the sudden change in Captain Foxworth.
Baret leaned against the rigging, arms folded, smiling with confidence. “What will it be, Captain Levasseur? A duel with your first lieutenant?—who I am certain is still of value to you since he has withheld certain information that you deem most urgent.”
Emerald was at a loss, her heart pounding. What information did Jamie have?
Levasseur’s manner became leery. “What information, Foxworth?”
“Let us not play games, Rafael. We both know why you seek me. For the same reason I have sought you—for Lucca. I, for news of my father’s whereabouts; you, for the treasure of the Prince Philip. And Jamie holds the key to our success.”
Levasseur’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know that he has not already told me?”
Baret smiled. “Come! We are both pirates! Would you leave him alive to tell others if he had already told you? Alas, by now you would have run him through.”
Emerald’s hand went to her mouth. She looked from Baret to Levasseur.
Levasseur laughed savagely. “Ah, Monsieur Foxworth, we do understand each other then, do we not? But to make certain neither of us bedevils the other, it seems you and I must come to agreement.”
“Quite so, Levasseur,” said Baret quietly, unsmiling now. “And so what will it be? Shall I duel the man who holds the key? Or will you agree that I keep the girl?”
Levasseur cocked his head, measuring Baret. “It seems, Captain, that neither of us can afford the loss of Jamie Boy. As you say, monsieur, he holds the key to what we both want.”
“Then perhaps you will permit me to do business with him.”
His words evidently gave Levasseur pause, and while his hard gaze cursed him, his expression was fixed in a gallant smile. He suddenly bowed with elegance. “You have me, monsieur! What do you offer Jamie Boy in order to keep her?”
Emerald found her voice shaking with humiliation and rage. “You blackguards! You dare barter over me as though I were booty—”
“You are, madam—at my disposal,” stated Baret. “I would advise you to take heart and count yourself favored that I should be willing to bid for you.”
She sucked in her breath, staring at him, his dark gaze silencing her.
Baret turned to Levasseur. “And now, Captain, I shall make your lieutenant an offer.”
Levasseur was keenly alert. “The price paid is for division. Jamie Boy has signed the Articles with me.”
Jamie has signed articles with Levasseur? wondered Emerald.
“I quite agree,” said Baret. “And since Jamie Boy is one of you, even the brother of Captain Charles Maynerd, he must agree to share the price I buy the girl for or suffer the penalty for withholding from fellow Brethren.”
Emerald’s mind faltered, unable to grasp all that she was hearing. But she did understand that Baret was deliberately showing her that Jamie was one of Levasseur’s pirates.
“What do you offer for my comely young cousin?” asked Levasseur.
Baret calmly removed his hat as though contemplating, his eyes narrowing as they fixed upon Emerald.
She jerked away, turning her back, her face warm. The arrogant scoundrel! And to think he had her father convinced he was a gentleman!
“Jamie will never agree!” she called.
“No?” said Baret. “Shall we discover the truth, madam?”
She wanted to recoil at his challenge, her assurance faltering. But Jamie had said he loved her. She could depend on him. She turned bravely and met his challenge. “Call him!”
Baret’s dark brow lifted. He looked at Levasseur. “Bring him on deck. We shall see at what price he will succumb for the woman he has vowed to marry.”
“He won’t be bribed,” Emerald found herself saying.
“Bring him,” said Baret.
Levasseur gestured to one of his French officers, who went to the rail.
Minutes later Jamie came over the ship’s side garbed as one of Levasseur’s crew. A scabbard with rapier was strapped about his hips. His blue eyes darted about the ship until they fell upon her, standing near the quarterdeck steps.
He grinned, his boyish face retaining all of the charm she thought she knew so well. “Emerald!”
“Jamie!” she cried. “What’s happening? What are you doing with my cousin on the Venture?”
He scowled. “I can explain everything. I’m sorry I couldn’t meet you. I was having an urgent meeting with Captain Levasseur. You are safe?”
Emerald pointed at Baret, expecting Jamie to confront him. “If being abducted and hauled aboard this pirate’s ship in a fish net is safe, yes. Jamie, what do you mean—urgent business with Rafael?”
He now surged toward her, until Baret, calm to the point of appearing bored, stepped forward to block his way.
“Do restrain yourself, Maynerd. We have much to discuss, you and I.”
Jamie stopped abruptly and frowned. His eyes flashed with temper, then turned to Emerald. “Who in thunder is this?”
“A man you wish to contact, I believe.” Baret’s lazy voice was laced with warning. “The name is Buckington, but perhaps Foxworth will suffice for what we have in mind. If you wish to partake in the treasure of my father’s ship, you must also sign articles with me.”
Jamie stared at him, his temper swiftly subsiding. “Aye, Captain, I do indeed. I mean—your lordship.” He bowed. “My brother spoke well of you.”
“Did he now? I’m honored.”
“Aye, till that infamous Lord Felix had him hung! Begging your pardon, Captain, seeing how he is your uncle.”
Then Jamie was a Maynerd. Emerald felt Baret’s gaze, suspected his subdued satisfaction, and refused to look at him. She still told herself that Jamie could explain everything.
“I’ll be swift to sign articles with you, Captain Foxworth.”
“Good!” said Baret cheerfully. “But first there is the matter of the girl. I’m told she ran away from Foxemoore to marry you.”
Jamie grinned. “Aye! We’re going to Boston to buy land for farming.”
“Are you indeed? Then what are you doing signing articles with Captain Levasseur and myself? Was this part of your plan?”
“No, but—it was a stroke of luck.” He looked at Emerald. “A chance to make it wealthy before we set sail.”
Emerald wished to hear no more in front of Baret, for it seemed obvious that Jamie had been willing to risk her on a pirate venture.
“Matters have changed,” said Baret calmly.
Jamie frowned a little. “What do you mean?”
“I’ll make it as short as I can—”
“Captain Foxworth wishes to buy me,” snapped Emerald.
“Huh? Buy you?”
“Yes,” said Baret. “My offer is twenty thousand pieces of eight. Do you accept?”
Emerald nearly gasped.
Jamie stared, eyes wide. “Twenty thousand—”
Baret’s manner, cool and almost contemptuous, seemed to have an intimidating effect on him, and he halted, uncertain. “You … want Emerald?”
Emerald sought to restrain her humiliation.
Baret drew from an inner pocket of his doublet a small pouch. While the others gathered around greedily, he untied the mouth of the bag. “Being a viscount,” he told the gaping men, “I am used to buying what I want.” He shook into his left palm a huge glittering blood-red ruby. “Levasseur, what is a ruby like this worth?”
Levasseur smiled beneath his hat, his dark eyes snapping. “Perhaps a thousand pieces of eight.”
“More like five,” said Baret dryly. “There are three more in this bag, Jamie Boy. Think what you might do with them? Now, surely, you are willing to give me the girl.”
Jamie was ogling the rubies that Baret poured like liquid fire from the bag.
“A ship of your own one day, a farm in Boston with another pretty wench—sure now, what is one pretty face more than another? With a fortune like this, you’d have your choice.”
Levasseur stepped up. “A bargain, Jamie Boy. You’d be a fool not to.”
Jamie licked his lips and glanced at Emerald who stood numb. His expression turned serious, and a whiteness showed about his mouth. Sweat broke out on his face, and he wiped his forehead with the back of his arm.
“A bargain, Captain,” choked Jamie, then glanced at Emerald.
She turned her back, tears stinging her eyes. She had been shamed! Humiliated! She hated Baret Buckington!
“And now, Hob,” said Baret, “bring my purchase to the cabin.”
His purchase!
“Aye, m’lady,” said Hob with laughing eyes, “shall I escort you to the cap’n’s cabin?”
Emerald whipped about to face Baret. Her eyes searched his, and she saw nothing but a momentary flicker of warmth in their dark depths. She drew back her arm and slapped him harshly.
Laughter broke out from the buccaneers, but neither Emerald nor Baret were smiling.
“I shall never forgive you for this,” she whispered. “Never.”
He looked at her, then without a word, bowed lightly and walked away to where Levasseur and Jamie stood by the rail.
Emerald shook her arm free of Hob and rushed up the steps to the quarterdeck. She threw open the door to the Great Cabin and entered, trembling.
Hob appeared a moment later in the doorway. “His lordship ain’t be cuckoldy, Miss Emerald, you’ll see. He were doin’ it for you, he was, to save you from makin’ a mistake with Jamie Maynerd. Aye, but one day you’ll thank him for it.”
She turned away, her hands in fists at her sides. “Thank him? For treating me like a common piece of baggage before those nasty miserable pirates of his?”
Hob was grave, his clear eyes saddened. “Aye, they expected it of him, they did. Sure now, it’s the way of the buccaneers. They’d think somethin’ wrong if’n he didn’t. But it’s his father he’s aiming to find, miss, and he ain’t be going to let nothing stop him. But I’ll let him do his own explainin.”
“You can tell him I don’t want to hear it.”
She lowered herself into a chair, her head across her arm, trying to still the deep hurt that boiled up inside.
Hob looked at her sadly, then went out, shutting the door behind him.
Emerald’s head lifted as she heard the unmistakable sound of a key locking her inside. She stood, staring at the door. Bought for twenty thousand pieces of eight.
Emerald awoke with a start and sat up. A glance at the open window showed a silver star gleaming in the inky sky. Her gaze shifted with dismay to the bronze lantern above the captain’s desk; it swooped and swayed with a nauseating effect. She had limited knowledge of the sea, having never sailed on her father’s merchant ships, but the movement of the Regale convinced her they had already set sail from Port Royal harbor beneath the big guns of Fort Charles and were out on the Caribbean.
The trade wind blew strongly, and she could hear the ship’s canvas lifting and billowing with a glorious snapping sound.
How could he do this to her? She bemoaned her appalling situation. Captain Foxworth appeared to completely disregard her feelings. Her reputation lay in shreds!
What was it that Hob had told her earlier that morning? “’Tis a secret just where we be goin’ … but no doubt to rendezvous with Cap’n Henry Morgan.”
Morgan!
Driven by desperation, Emerald tried to open the cabin door; it was still locked from the outside, and Baret Buckington carried the key. She hammered with her fists. “Let me out! Captain Foxworth! Open this door at once!”
All to no avail. She turned and sank wearily against it, watching the swooping lantern.
“This is my own fault,” groaned Emerald, dismayed. “If I hadn’t deceived my father and run off in the first place, I wouldn’t be caught in this situation.”
Guilt turned her mind to her sins. “Oh, Lord, I’ll make amends for my ways. I promise I will. I haven’t forgotten the vow I made You—or the promise to Mathias about the Singing School.”
But her words of commitment mocked her, and heaven above seemed deaf to her plea. Fear crept through her spirit—just how often had Uncle Mathias lamented the hypocritical repentance of wretches who found themselves in trouble?
His words rang in her ears. No sooner does the gracious Lord come to their rescue than they’re back to their whoredoms and thievery.
“If I hadn’t disregarded my conscience and sought to run away from Foxemoore with Jamie, I’d not be tasting the
bitter fruits of my wilfulness. I yield my life anew to You. Have Your way in my heart, my goals, my hopes, my ambitions. Whatever You want to do with me, I am Yours. Let Your grace be my sufficiency. Strengthen me to fulfill Your eternal purposes.”
Emerald watched the sun lift from the amber waves and begin to scatter the night’s darkness. The wind arose and carried away the last vestige of night, and the warm tropics bloomed, caressing her face through the window.
Once again her thoughts turned to Baret. He was an enigma. How could she ever understand him? Did he even understand himself? Just what did he have in mind in holding her captive like this? What was his underlying motive? Whatever it was, he’d gone so far as to offer to duel for her, yet he couldn’t have been serious.
No, he couldn’t have. There was Lavender. And who was she—Emerald—but the daughter of Sir Karlton?
She turned again to the work of Mathias for consolation, going over the African slave chants that would have been turned into gospel chants instead. Instead of words of hopelessness and darkness, they would have become words of light and expectation of a great and mighty God who had heard the groaning of the prisoner and come to set the soul free.
She tried to concentrate on how she might turn those dark words to ones of a rising sun—like the Caribbean sun shooting up from the night’s waters. Her thoughts raced to Psalm 19—“As a bridegroom coming out of his chamber.”
Inevitably her restless mind turned to Baret. What had Hob said? That he was searching for his father and nothing would stand in his way? Not even her presence aboard the Regale. He would not turn back for her or for anyone else.
But what did Levasseur and Jamie have to do with it? Why had they agreed to sign articles with Baret? Perhaps more important, why did the viscount wish to associate with them? Previously Baret had no good to say about either her cousin or Jamie. And were they now partners in piracy?
It must have something to do with his search for his father, she thought, but what?
She remembered the scene aboard ship when Levasseur arrived. There had been something between him and Baret then, something shrouded with danger.
And Jamie! She shut her eyes, troubled. How could she have been so deceived about his character? Her father had been right when he insisted Jamie was a pirate.
Buccaneers Series Page 31