Buccaneers Series

by Linda Lee Chaikin

  “Because of Baret’s rebellion, Lavender is now betrothed to the stepson of Felix. She will marry him not because she loves Grayford but because she is a delightful child, far too good for Baret. She’s suffered years of illness and deserves a much better life in England than she has had here in Jamaica. Now Beatrice is dead, adding to her sorrow.”

  Emerald was careful to keep her expression unreadable. What would the earl do if he knew that Lavender had already let it be known she intended to get Baret back? She believed that Lavender was as ambitious and strong-willed as the earl. What was it about Lavender that had convinced both Baret and the earl that she was delicate and of a sweet submissive spirit?

  She’s deceptive, she thought, irritated. The earl might think she would marry Grayford to please him, but Emerald wasn’t as confident. Lavender would thwart him if she could—and harvest both Baret and the inheritance.

  “I want to keep them apart. That is where you come in,” he was saying.

  She blinked. “M’lord?”

  He looked at her. “If you were the little strumpet I first thought you to be, I’d be packing you off on the first ship I could find and be done with you. Fortunately, I can see I need not worry about making a pet of an adder and getting bitten. With that settled, I’ve decided to stand behind Karlton’s demands. You will insist my grandson carry through on his vow to marry you. I will see there is a public betrothal at Foxemoore when Baret arrives.”

  She stared at him, not trusting herself to speak. She must have misunderstood. Had she heard correctly when he said, “When Baret arrives?” Did he really expect Baret to come back to Port Royal and face piracy charges?

  She remembered her last meeting with the viscount. He had intimated a reconciliation with his grandfather over fighting the Dutch. She wondered whether the earl intended to get his grandson back with his cooperation or without it?

  He appeared calm. “I have my reasons for doing this. Only a woman of your character could prove useful to me. I could not trust a more ambitious woman with what I have in mind, whereas I have confidence in you to play the role.”

  Play the role. She stood to her feet, holding her voice steady. “I’m in no position to question your prerogatives or your judgment, m’lord. And I suppose it’s a common thing for the family patriarch of your titled position to decide what each member of your family may or may not do. But tonight I’ve already told Lady Geneva I’ll not marry a man who doesn’t love me. Especially one who carries a torch in his heart for another woman.”

  “Oh … that.” He waved a hand. “You misunderstand my intentions. Let us say that as long as you are his betrothed, Lavender will go through with her marriage. Once she and Grayford have married—well, then your betrothal to Baret will end, and you will return the Buckington family ring. I may be angry with Baret, but he remains a blooded viscount, and he will eventually marry accordingly.”

  Her heart swelled painfully. “You wish me to play theater. To pretend. Is that it?”

  “Something of that nature, yes. I must not take the chance of Baret’s coming between Lavender and Grayford. I warned him I’d favor Grayford if he proceeded with his shameless conduct. His wanderlust and refusal to return to England and assume his family responsibility as heir to title and estate will lead to disinheritance. Like his father, Baret is arrogantly indifferent to public opinion or the family wishes, and this time he’ll pay. His obligation to you puts a pretty end to any notions he or Lavender may have to renew their engagement. In return, you will live at Foxemoore in the Great House, and you will be treated with the respect a future countess deserves. In the end, I will see to an appropriately arranged marriage for you in England or—if you prefer—a comfortable inheritance either here on Jamaica or in London with your father.”

  So. He wanted to use her as a wedge between Baret and Lavender. The unflattering notion that she was worth no more than that brought her disappointment.

  “You mean, once my usefulness is over, you’ll no longer have any cause to keep me in the family. You only want to use me to hold Baret to the bargain until Lavender and Lord Grayford are married.”

  “You will be rewarded amply enough. I believe Karlton wishes to send you to school in England.”

  “I—I won’t be used for anything so ignoble.”

  “Ignoble? Rubbish! I’m offering you the opportunity to become the future countess for as long as it’s necessary. And in the end, your reputation will be enhanced by having been the betrothed of a Buckington viscount.”

  “What you ask of me disregards my own dignity as a woman,” she said, her voice shaking.

  “A matter of feminine ego, is it? We shall soon see it coddled and flattered.”

  “I do not refuse because of pride!”

  “I offer you the honor of becoming the betrothed of my grandson, not at the point of your father’s sword but with my approval, a matter of some reputation in England! I offer you the privilege of wearing the Buckington jewels, of having beautiful gowns made for you. Despite your upbringing and that scandalous duel, your reputation will become such that I shall be able to arrange for you a genuine marriage with a man of title. And do you jerk your chin at that, madam?”

  Tears stung her eyes. “Please try to understand. I cannot receive a betrothal and a public commitment of his love so lightly. Do you think I have no feelings?”

  “I do not doubt you are a woman of deep feelings.”

  “The viscount will think me small and possessive, deliberately holding onto him when he would prefer otherwise!”

  “We ultimately come back to your father’s wishes. And mine. And whatever you may think of them, you will need to accept the circumstances and to adjust.”

  She stood, holding back tears. Her protests meant nothing to him. Now she knew what Baret must have felt in his younger years when denied the right to choose his path. The earl had his plans, and no one would thwart them without reaping a bitter harvest.

  “And if your grandson chooses to disregard your plans, no matter that I seek to hold him to them?”

  “I have urged upon Governor Modyford a plan that will involve Baret and Henry Morgan. The matter is sure to please, and Baret will cooperate. It will not please my son Felix, so he must not know. Not yet. But in the end, even Felix will see it was a wise thing I’ve done.”

  Her interest was tantalized, and she hoped he would explain more, but he did not. “If I refuse?”

  “You will cooperate to free your father.”

  Her eyes darted anxiously to his.

  He smiled thinly. “Yes,” he said, “I know about his being held by the Admiralty. Felix was involved in his arrest, and I am aware of that too. I suspect you came to see Geneva tonight to plead for her to intervene. Believe me, there is no one who holds more power over Felix than I. No matter what Geneva may do, if I choose to thwart her, there is nothing she can do to help Karlton.”

  “But you wouldn’t thwart her,” she pleaded. “He’s innocent. I know he is.”

  “A debatable issue. One that is beside the point. We are not discussing the piracy of the Prince Philip or whether there is treasure buried somewhere in the West Indies. I will see Karlton freed on one condition—that you remain the betrothed of my grandson until such time as I decide to end the betrothal. If not, I have authority over the governor and influence with King Charles. I could write to His Majesty tonight and have Modyford removed as governor. I could have your father sent to England to the Tower. And if I chose, my dear, I could send him to Execution Dock. But you need not look pale; that is not my plan, nor my wish. I like Karlton, scamp that he is. And now that I’ve met his daughter, I can see why Baret would risk a duel to save you from a French pirate.”

  And she had almost thought the earl actually wanted her to marry Baret. She’d been foolish to even permit herself to think so. He was, and always would be, the blooded Earl Nigel Buckington received at Whitehall in intimate friendship with King Charles. And Baret, too, would remain the future ea
rl. Not all his exploits and scandalous ways on the Caribbean would change that in England, nor with his grandfather, despite his words to the contrary. It was only Emerald Harwick who remained unsuitable.

  “I feel certain Karlton will also agree to my wishes,” he said, and his voice was so firm that she believed her father indeed could not refuse, no more than she could. She wondered that she felt so tired.

  He crossed the chamber and opened the door. He smiled, and for an instant she looked into the face of Baret Buckington.

  Emerald curtsied and walked past him into the hall, feeling dazed.

  He followed, on his way to the steps to Jette’s room. “I will have a talk with Geneva. In a few days, someone will be sent to Fishers Row to bring you to Foxemoore.” He climbed the steps. “Good night, Emerald.”

  14

  A CALL FOR THE BUCCANEERS

  Expecting the arrival of her father with Zeddie, Emerald felt her taut nerves become more unsettled as the hours dragged on. From far away, a low, dull booming might have passed for thunder.

  “Cannon from Fort Charles?” she wondered aloud to Minette.

  Minette joined her on the porch of the lookout house. “Maybe Zeddie was wrong about that Dutch ship not shooting at us.”

  Emerald shaded her eyes against the afternoon sunshine and gazed down Fishers Row, hoping to glimpse the buggy bringing her father. The booming grew louder, followed by shouting voices.

  “Why, the sound we hear is beating drums,” Minette said.

  “And look—way down the street. Those are Governor Modyford’s criers. I wonder what’s happening?”

  “Maybe Zeddie knows. He’s coming now.”

  Emerald peered anxiously to see Zeddie turning onto the crowded street.

  “Uncle Karlton’s not with him,” said Minette worriedly.

  Emerald hurried to wait for him on the steps. As soon as he was within earshot, she called, “Zeddie, what happened? Is he still being held by the governor?”

  “He’s released him,” he called up. “I’ve other news.”

  That her father had not been held was enough to restore hope. “Where is he now? Is he coming?” she asked as Zeddie climbed the steps.

  “Aye, he’s coming. He’s out to buy your passage to England—if there’s any ship.”

  Minette let out an excited squeal. “Then we’re leaving soon, Emerald! All our worst fears were for nothing.”

  Remembering the words of Earl Nigel Buckington, she wondered if matters were that easy to unravel. Beside trying to sail during war time, had he not said the betrothal must take place first?

  Zeddie did not look as optimistic as Minette. “Ye’ll both sail, to be sure, just as soon as Emerald meets with the governor and answers his questions. I heard say the Admiralty official will be there too—some dour-faced Earl Cunningham, an acquaintance of Lord Felix.”

  The reminder of the ordeal ahead sobered any enthusiasm Emerald had over her father’s release. And just what sort of fellow was Earl Cunningham? She shuddered. How could she possibly tell all the truth as she knew it and at the same time protect Baret and her father?

  “When do I appear?” she asked cautiously.

  “I’m not knowin’, m’gal, but Sir Karlton will explain when he comes. He’ll be havin’ supper here. I wouldn’t worry none, seein’ as how he parted on friendly terms with Modyford. Seems a few pearls baited the governor’s generous mood. An’ I didn’t see his lordship Felix anywheres about.”

  She turned her attention to what the approaching drums might mean.

  “They be the governor’s criers making an announcement.”

  “About the Dutch ship?”

  “Sink me, not the ship—the war!”

  Yes, the war. And how would this complication add to their difficulties? Would Baret yet decide to fight for Holland?

  Zeddie told them the governor’s criers were spreading throughout the streets of Port Royal, St. Jago, and Passage Fort, calling any and all privateers to gather for the reading of an important announcement from Governor Modyford and the Jamaican Council.

  “I listened to ’em. As soon as the drummers finished their ruffles, the crier clambered on top of stacked rum barrels announcin’ how England’s at war with Holland. An’ Governor Modyford is willing to sell commissions again to any privateer who will attack the Dutch.”

  “Can he do that? Will the king approve of the buccaneers returning to Jamaica?”

  “Approve! Why it was His Majesty who sent a letter to the governor advisin’ him to recall ’em. I suspect Lord Felix won’t be none pleased with this turn, but the governor and planters is worried aplenty. They’re using the war to appease the buccaneers, saying English territory must be safeguarded for King Charles.”

  “Does the governor think Jamaica will be attacked?” Emerald asked.

  “Seems the planters think so. An’ with the buccaneers takin’ to Tortuga, they’re a mite worried. The turn will serve Lord Felix right enough. Let him and his London Peace Party stew in their own turtle juice. They done hanged one pirate too many to lure ’em back now.”

  “Will the buccaneers come back?” asked Minette hopefully.

  Emerald knew the reason for her interest. But if there was any chance that Sir Erik’s ship, the Warspite, might dock, Minette had false hopes of seeing him again. She was looking to get hurt by the cool and reckless Farrow.

  “I doubt the buccaneers will leave Tortuga,” Emerald said quickly, trying to keep her voice from betraying the pounding of her heart. What was it the earl had said? Something about “when Baret arrives”?

  “There are few privateers in town, an’ the ones I saw showed about as much interest over a commission to attack the Dutch as a dead fish would show over live bait. Sink me sails! There ain’t more’n a dozen sea rovers remainin’ anyhow. And they’re more fishermen than they are true buccaneers. The buccaneers are elsewhere. Some say the captain of the Brotherhood—Mansfield—is around the cays of Cuba or Panama. The word will have a time reaching ’em. And so Modyford is sending his man Bennett to bring em’ word and lure em’ back to Port Royal. Now, the French governor on Tortuga is another thing. He’s determined to keep the Brethren there, seeing he gets a share of their booty.”

  Zeddie slipped the leather sling containing his pistol over his head, knocking off his golden periwig as he did so. His shaven head was covered with a blue bandana. Walking to hang his pistol on a hook on the wall, he said, “The governor knows Jamaica’s safety is dependent on his private navy of buccaneers. He’s also smart enough to know there’s no love for attackin’ the Dutch—or the French. So I’m wonderin’ what he has up his sleeve. I’m thinking he’ll send a trusty man to Tortuga to ask for a meetin’ with the buccaneer captains, all unknown to his lordship Felix.”

  “Can he do that?” asked Minette hopefully. “Call for the captains, I mean?”

  “Sure now, since he has the authority to issue marques against the one enemy the buccaneers hate, Spain. If it’s only the Dutch? They’ll stay on Tortuga, to be sure.”

  Minette grew silent, and Emerald said too casually, “We’ll be leaving for England anyway. It doesn’t matter to us.”

  “Yes, and I’m plenty glad too.” Minette walked over to the mirror and looked at her image, taking her honey-colored ringlets and piling them high on her head. “Why, I look all of seventeen this way. Emerald, don’t you think so? Do you have any hairpins?”

  “I just hope our ship sails before real war breaks out on the Caribbean,” mused Emerald worriedly.

  Minette turned from the mirror, her amber eyes wide, and let her hair fall. “What if we get caught at sea between Dutch and French warships? Oh, I don’t think I could stand another sea battle. They’ll sink us, for sure.”

  “It’s a risk I’m willing to take. Anything to reach England.”

  The sun was setting like a burning jewel over the sea when Sir Karlton arrived at the lookout house. The supper table was set and waiting his arrival, with hot pla
tters of his favorite recipe of fried fish, baked plantains in their yellow-brown leaves, and bowls of sweet fresh mangoes, guavas, and melons drizzled with honey.

  Emerald ran to embrace him. “Papa.”

  “Now, now little one, ‘tis all right. It could have been worse. I’m alive at least, and free.”

  At once he was pummeled with questions. “When will I see the governor? What about Lord Felix—will he be there? When does the ship leave for England, Papa?”

  He shed his black periwig with distaste. “Looks like a dead dog,” he jested, handing it to her between thumb and forefinger. “Style, bah. ‘Twas the trouble of having to meet with Earl Nigel at Geneva’s town house. The man is as much for propriety on a hot humid day as the governor.”

  So he had met and talked with the earl. Had Nigel informed him of his plans to go through with the betrothal? Her stomach felt queasy as she briefly searched his rugged face, wondering. What would Baret have to say about it? She thought she knew. She let the moment slip past, for as yet she hadn’t even told Minette what had happened, perhaps because she was still in a daze over the turn of events.

  She looped her arm through his and walked toward the table. “Come and have supper. We’ve made all your favorite things, and Zeddie fried the fish in coconut oil the way you like it.”

  Because of the tropical heat, men often shaved their heads and wore pirate scarfs or, like her father, had their hair clipped short about the ears. He took the clean blue scarf that Zeddie handed him and tied it on in preparation for taking his seat at the table. As she pressed for answers, her father proceeded to calmly remove his camlet jacket and cravat and hand them to Emerald, who ran to hang them in the closet and hurry back, afraid she’d miss some of his news.

  “Don’t run, lass. You’re a lady. Nae forget you’ll be a countess one day.” His eyes twinkled.