Buccaneers Series

by Linda Lee Chaikin

  So the earl had told him. Naturally, her father would be pleased.

  “Yes, Papa, of course.” She gestured to Minette, who brought a bowl of warm water and set it on a stool beside his chair, where he was wont to wash his hands before commencing supper.

  Emerald took her chair with a rustle of skirts, and Minette wrinkled her nose at her, for it was her duty to wait on the table with Zeddie. Before her grandfather Jonah had died, he and Minette had both waited on table while Zeddie had helped with the cooking. Sir Karlton insisted that only Zeddie knew how to make his coffee and fry his flour-dipped fish in a crackling two inches of oil.

  Sir Karlton towered a good six feet, with broad shoulders. His rough suntanned hands displayed several pirated rings, one showing a black bull with ruby eyes. “Taken from a don,” he had said. “The man stole it first. I simply collected a due to England.” His deep-set eyes bore a silvery hue in the light from the lanterns and candles. He fixed them on his daughter with thoughtful pride.

  Emerald sat poised and quiet now, wondering whether to tell him about Cousin Lavender’s visit and her intention to marry Baret, despite either his plans or the earl’s. It would save them all a great deal of turmoil if she did not explain yet.

  His gaze softened with fatherly affection. “You look as becoming as your mother,” he said. “She wore her raven tresses piled at the back of her head too. A lady she was. None could outdo her when she wanted to prove it.” He chuckled, as though enjoying some entertaining memory.

  Emerald did not share his pleasure. She picked up her fork and flicked at the fish fillet. She had no appetite, and the smell of fish was so strong she asked Zeddie to open the door and let the evening breeze flow through the house.

  “Baret should see you now,” said Karlton. “He’d be impatient for that wedding.”

  Emerald tried to keep her expression unreadable. She picked up her cup and sipped the lime water sweetened with honey. Then she smoothly changed the subject. “What did the governor ask you? Does he think I know anything about the voyage to Maracaibo? Of the San Pedro?”

  His expression turned mellow but secretive. “He’s satisfied, so you needn’t worry none.”

  She wondered why he was satisfied. The pearls? Something else she was not yet privy to? “Zeddie said I would be called to Kings House to answer for myself soon.”

  “Nigel won’t want more scandal. He’ll be sure to pressure Felix to drop the issue,” was all he said.

  Emerald tensely watched him as he ate his supper and the breeze flickered the candle flames. As yet, she had not met Felix, though she had seen him from a distance at the wedding.

  “There’s fine news, daughter. Earl Nigel has made it clear there will be a public betrothal on Foxemoore in a few weeks.”

  A few weeks! Emerald clutched the fork. She swallowed. “Did he? That’s rather shocking, isn’t it? Does he think the viscount will submit? Will Lady Thaxton simply smile and agree? She didn’t marry Lord Grayford after all, you know.” Her heart thudded ridiculously.

  Minette danced about in the background as though celebrating, her antics unseen by Karlton. Emerald ignored her.

  “Bah, if the captain of the H.M.S. Royale is smart, he’ll postpone that wedding indefinitely. She’ll make a man a flighty wife. Drive the poor fellow to indigestion, to be sure.”

  “Papa—” she began uneasily, but he lifted a hand, his eyes meeting hers evenly.

  “Pass the honey, lass.”

  She drew in a breath and watched as he poured a heavy layer on his buttered biscuit.

  “When you’ll speak with the governor is uncertain. You may not see him at all until the official dinner and ball at Government House.”

  She stiffened in the hardbacked chair. “What dinner?”

  He smiled. “The one you’ll be attending, looking like the countess you’ll be one day. And sporting the Buckington ring.”

  “I don’t care for official dinners. They’re full of stuffy people who stare at me. And I can imagine the stares I’d receive now if I went!”

  “Nonsense. With the Buckington ring in display, they’ll be congratulating you.”

  “There is no ring—and there won’t be.”

  He looked at her, holding out his empty coffee cup toward Zeddie, who refilled it with style, one ear turned to the conversation. “Baret will give you the ring at Foxemoore before the dinner at Government House takes place. Nigel is on our side, daughter.”

  “As if Baret Buckington will marry just because his grandfather expects it! He’s in love with Lady Thaxton! And he’s man enough to get what he wants, no matter how much you or the earl manipulate him. Oh, Papa, it’s gone far enough. Let’s leave here at once aboard the Madeleine. We’ll sail for England and visit your cousin at Berrymeade and forget all about Port Royal.”

  “Tsk, listen to her, Zeddie! She’s captured the heart of Viscount Baret Buckington, even my lord Buckington says he’ll stand behind us, and my daughter continues to insist on cowering like a wilted flower. Now, lass, there’ll be no more of this kind of chatter. Baret will give you the ring, and the betrothal will be decently announced as family custom demands. It’s the way it’s always been done, and Geneva and Sophie will say nothing now that Nigel agrees.”

  Her personal objections seemed to be getting nowhere. She would try another approach. “Baret doesn’t dare show himself in Port Royal! He’s wanted for illegal entry in Maracaibo. If you insist, you’ll see him arrested and put in Brideswell until Lord Felix has him hanged.”

  “So that’s the flurry behind your unreasonable spirit, is it?” His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “Felix wants him hanged, all right—and me to boot, if he can, but for different reasons. It’s to my benefit that Nigel and the governor have plans Felix doesn’t know about yet,” he said with satisfaction. “The rascally mouthed spy!”

  Felix a spy? Now she recalled that the earl too had mentioned a plan that would please Baret but not Felix.

  “Plans about the war?” she asked anxiously. “The drums today—the governor expects the buccaneers to return?”

  Minette drew near the table and watched him, her heart in her eyes.

  His satisfied smile vanished at his thoughts, and he didn’t seem to notice her. “He can beat the drums all he wants. Neither Morgan nor Mansfield will fight the Dutch. Nor will any true-hearted buccaneer.”

  “What then, Papa? Can you tell me?”

  “I can tell you Modyford doesn’t trust Felix as much as he pretends. Trouble is, he’s in a hard position to keep Felix’s Peace Party satisfied on the one hand and the buccaneers and planters on the other. With Nigel’s secret support, Modyford’s willing to sanction an expedition against Spain under Henry Morgan. And I’m to bring the news from Morgan to Baret.”

  So that’s what the earl meant when he told me Baret would return.

  “And all this with the governor’s permission?” she whispered.

  He smiled. “Aye, daughter—and the earl’s. It’s the sort of venture Baret will relish.”

  She was not pleased with the thought. “What about the San Pedro? What of his entry into Maracaibo? What of Lucca, and what about you, Papa?”

  “You needn’t fret over me.” And his secretive look of pleasure returned, as though he had some plan of his own. “I’ve made terms with the governor. It’s why he released me when Nigel requested it. A wise man, Modyford.”

  She worried about the glint in his eyes as he gazed thoughtfully at the candle. She recalled what Geneva had said about her father’s having had nothing to do with the Prince Philip. Emerald, of course, knew better.

  “What kind of terms?” she asked, thinking of the Prince Philip’s treasure. “Has Baret gone to Margarita yet? Do you plan to go with him after all? Oh, Papa, I wish you wouldn’t.”

  “Now, now, none of that. We’ll not discuss the treasure now. Your father is an honorable man, to be sure, and so is Buckington. We’re neither one pirates. We’ll be doing a bit of business with Modyf
ord is all, since the man isn’t above a bit of pocket-padding himself when it comes to Spanish pieces of eight. And now we have Earl Nigel on our side as well.”

  She watched him. “What kind of business?”

  “Enough questions. The less you, Minette, and Zeddie know, the better off you’ll be. But there’s no need for alarm, daughter. The governor is privy to the information now and is expecting a trifle in exchange for my release. And it’s quite a different cause which brings me to see Baret on Tortuga. Enough now,” he repeated.

  He stood, pushing back his chair. “And now for the news I’ve not been wanting to tell. It’s about your voyage to England.”

  Emerald tensed, unsure whether her unease came from his smooth change of topic or from his sudden frown. What she saw flickering in his expression set her on the edge of her chair.

  “About England,” he said. “There’s been a change of plans, daughter.”

  She stared at him, and Minette watched with expectant eyes. “Papa, don’t tell me you’ve changed your mind about my going away to school?”

  Sir Karlton cleared his throat. “It wasn’t me, little one. I’ve done my best to convince Modyford—”

  “Modyford? The governor’s going to detain me?”

  “No, and do you think I’d sail to Tortuga and Porto Bello and leave you here if I thought you’d be detained at that filthy Brideswell? Why, I’d shoot the first cullion who’d dare to bring you there! Nay—” he calmed himself “—nay. Nor would Nigel allow such a dastardly thing. Just as soon as the war is over and the Atlantic is safe to cross, you’ll be going to school. You too, Minette.” He turned his head and gave her a nod. “You’re getting prettier with each passing month, and I aim to see you marry above your station. You look quite French. That scoundrel Erik Farrow—”

  Emerald stood, pushing back her chair. “You mean we’re not sailing until after the war? That—that could be a year. Even longer.”

  “Aye …” He sighed, sat down again, and cut into a melon with a sharp dagger. “I did my best. There are no ships leaving for England, and the governor informs me none will. It’s his ruling, daughter. I’m sorry. I tried to convince him. Nigel also seems to think you should stay. You’ll be going to Foxemoore.”

  “Not going …” Minette groaned.

  Emerald stood, a thousand thoughts racing through her mind. This meant she must face the family after all. Even with the earl wishing it of her, she recoiled at the possibilities. No wonder he could say there would be an announcement of her betrothal on Foxemoore. He had known that she would not be able to go to London.

  Emerald leaned with dismay across the table. “The war hasn’t happened yet—not the fighting anyway. The Atlantic is surely still safe for voyaging. It can’t be worse than meeting Thorpe and the Black Dragon!”

  “I wouldn’t count on it, lass. If the Dutch from the American New Amsterdam colony decide to send a man-o’-war down to the Caribbean, it won’t take ’em long. And there are ships at Curaço. And the French have ships at St. Kitts.”

  “What about English Harbor? What about Lord Grayford’s ship?” she argued desperately. “What about Barbados?”

  “Grayford’s ship was hit and is undergoing repairs at Antigua. Grayford seems a wee untested, if you ask me. The king should have given that sweet ship to Baret. Now there’s a scoundrel who could teach ’em a few lessons.”

  She sank slowly back into her chair. She saw him watching her with a flicker of sympathy in his eyes.

  “I’m truly sorry, daughter. I know how you were looking forward to England, and so was I. Even so, matters for you have changed for the better here in Port Royal, and your time in England will come one day. And in the meantime, I hear Baret’s old tutor, Sir Cecil Chaderton, is also delayed here. Now there’s a scholar if there ever was one. You can learn more from Sir Cecil than you could ever learn at St. Paul’s in London. Your day at Buckington House will come.”

  Will it? Emerald wondered dully. Would she ever escape the cockatrice den of Port Royal?

  “I promised Baret you’d be sent there,” he said with a frown of remembrance. “It was the bargain we made for the marriage, and we better keep it. If not—”

  His voice went on, but she was no longer listening. Her dreams were slowly dying. From outside, as the evening deepened, she could hear the carousing beginning as the kill-devil rum began to flow in the taverns and gambling dens.

  Minette had walked to the door and was looking out in silence. Emerald imagined her thinking that all her hopes of becoming a lady and snagging Erik Farrow were as doomed as her own. At Port Royal she would always be known as a half-caste slave.

  Return to Foxemoore. All happy expectations of tomorrow vanished like mist in the morning sun.

  “A traitor, that’s what Felix and the Peace Party is. An’ all the while, Felix is engaged in the king’s colonies smuggling slaves, rum, and other goods to the Spaniards. If I could prove it, I’d hear no more from him, I tell you. And I will prove it. I’ve much to tell Baret when I see him.”

  He pushed his plate back and pulled out his pipe, stretching out his booted legs. “It should be a satisfying consolation for Baret to be called by Modyford. It’s almost amusing that even Felix and his London officials must treat him more kindly. He will be forced to soften his stance. Though Baret is wise enough to not trust him. Aye, it would be amusing to see Felix when he learns of the deal I’ve made with Modyford. Felix is a dangerous man, little one, nae forget that.” He looked at her across the candle lighted table.

  Emerald saw concern in his eyes, and at that moment genuine fear was rekindled in her heart. “Will you go alone to Tortuga to see Baret? Does the governor intend to send some militia with you?”

  He smiled tolerantly. “I have all the Brethren of the Coast behind me. There’s only a few rats to worry me—Sir Jasper and that roguish French nephew of mine. Rafael will answer to me for his betrayal. Now, I’ll be getting some rest. I’ll be leaving far before dawn to bring Baret the news. Morgan will be expecting us both.”

  He stood. “Zeddie, I’m trusting my two lassies to you while I’m gone. Keep ’em safe until Captain Buckington arrives.”

  “Sure now, Karlton, I’ll see to it. Ye’ve nothing to worry about except yourself. I’ll be seein’ you to the Madeleine come morning. Speakin’ of that cur Sir Jasper, I’m thinkin’ that Dutch ship in Chocolata Hole is his work, his and maybe Lord Felix’s. An’ there’s slaves aboard.”

  “Slaves, is it? The bounty will yet be the seaweed to drag him below the black depths,” growled Sir Karlton. “Maybe I’ll have a look at that mysterious ship, Zeddie. Tonight, before I set sail for Tortuga.”

  Emerald sat lost in her own thoughts, vaguely aware that her father now peered at her worriedly.

  “Now, Emerald, enough of your disappointment. You’ve got the whole world ahead of you now that the Earl Nigel’s behind your marriage. You’ll soon be wearing fancy gowns and tinkling with family jewels. And Baret’s enough man to turn any woman’s head. You’ve exciting socials to look forward to, including your official betrothal. Enough moping now. You’ve much to thank the Almighty for.”

  “Yes, Papa.” She stood, walked to where he was, and threw her arms around him tightly.

  “‘Tis not a long good-bye,” he said with rough tenderness. “I shall be back.”

  She kissed his cheek and nodded, then climbed the steep steps to the crow’s nest.

  A minute later Minette followed her, and Emerald saw she was pale and despondent.

  Emerald glanced down the stairway. Her father and Zeddie were talking in mysterious, quiet tones. Then she went to their room and lighted the small lantern.

  Minette sank to the quilts on the floor, head in hands. “We’ll never get out of here.”

  Emerald said nothing. She walked to the round window and stood looking out. The sun had long since set, and rain clouds were quickly blocking out the moon. A storm was blowing up.

  Be Thou our guide,
our guard, our shield, she prayed.

  The freebooters may have abandoned Chocolata Hole for French Tortuga, but Emerald discovered the next morning that smuggling continued to flourish under the guise of respectability worn by certain members of the governor’s own council.

  “That Dutch ship transferred its bounty of human cargo onto a second ship. We saw it all,” said Zeddie with loathing. “Leastways we did till your father left for the Madeleine and I was hit on the noggin’. Getting clobbered seems my ill fate,” he complained, groaning as he took a cup of coffee from Minette.

  Emerald dabbed turtle oil and rum on the bloodied bruise and secured a clean bandage in place. “I have my notions about Sir Jasper being involved. If I could convince the governor, I would.”

  “Not much chance of that. Jasper has friends on the council. Him and his cockleburs were out doin’ their mischief, to be sure, and they knew I saw ’em too. In the dark hours of the wee midnight, the ship slipped away beneath the sleeping guns of Fort Charles. Got friends there, too, is my guess.”

  Emerald brushed a dark wisp of hair from her forehead, and her winged brows formed a scowl. “If anyone ought to be hanged on Gallows Point, it’s the vile-hearted slavers. Did you see the ship they were transferred to?”

  “Aye, I saw it,” he murmured darkly. “It’s bound for the Main to sell to the Spaniards is my guess. And who did I see a-talking with the captain, some newcomer to these waters, but that foppish bloke Sir Jasper. An’ stab me if’n I didn’t also see the big barracuda himself, Lord Felix Buckington, loiterin’ farther back on the wharf. Then somebody clobbered me.”

  She remembered what both Zunsia and Jette had said about smuggling. That Felix might be involved did not surprise her, but it was curious that a man in his position would risk showing himself near the ship. “You’re sure it was Felix?”

  “My good eye is as sharp as a bat’s. I saw him.”

  Minette produced a crooked smile. “We say ‘as blind as a bat,’ Zeddie.”

  “No matter, m’gal, ‘twas the same thing. I saw his lordship Felix Buckington. I’d recognize that dandy anywhere.”