Langley's Choice

by Kate Dolan

  “Yes.”

  “Well, Mr. Throckmorton, your quarters have not enough room to stow this chest.” He looked helplessly at his captain but again received no notice.

  “What the devil do you expect me to do about it? I must have my clothes for the voyage. It is not my fault or my concern that you have selected a cabin of–of–of insufficient size.” Josiah punched his words with all the pent-up anger at his own impotence in being swept along on this foolish trip.

  The unhappy officer beckoned a sailor and ordered him to see if Josiah's trunk would fit through the hatch.

  When Josiah saw that arrangements were being made to accommodate his luggage he should have felt soothed, but found he did not.

  “Well, man!” he yelled at Ellis. “Do you plan to sit on the dock until my return? Get on home with you and attend to your responsibilities.” He stared angrily at his servant as the man headed back to the skiff, cast off his short line and began to row toward Hanset.

  Josiah felt himself growing hot, as though he were literally seething. He paced a few steps to calm himself and looked up to see Charles Carter coming toward him, hand outstretched in greeting.

  "Good day to you, sir. We are well ready for this voyage, I think."

  Josiah remembered that at their last parting Charles said something about being afraid and dismayed, so he must show no sign of fear or dismay or it would be taken as a weakness. His resolve to appear calm actually did calm him a little.

  “Good day, Mr. Carter. I trust all of your family were well when you took your leave?”

  “Yes, all well except for Caroline; she has been indisposed these last several days.”

  Josiah simply nodded. The pretense of Miss Carter's illness was easily maintained, although thoroughly unnecessary. He imagined everyone on the ship and, indeed, everyone in Elkridge Landing knew they were setting off to rescue Miss Carter from pirates. He probably should have said something expressing his concern for Miss Carter's state of health, but it seemed absurd to continue to inquire after an imaginary ailment.

  Frankly, he was annoyed with Miss Carter and rather hoped she was in an uncomfortable state of health. Her recklessness was going to cost him everything, and her family as well. What had she been thinking? Sneaking into a tavern dressed like a boy. Was this the behavior of a lady? The lady who would be mistress of his plantation? Josiah was surprised to find he really did not care whether they brought her back or not.

  Chapter Ten

  It was a small sight to cause such commotion. A thin bump on the horizon, barely noticeable. But all men who were not on watch stood as if glued to the railing, even though only a few days had passed since they sailed out of the bay into the Atlantic.

  The open water of the ocean didn’t really look any different from that of the bay, but it felt different to Caroline. The featureless horizon of the ocean beckoned with the promise of other lands and civilizations.

  From the time they were girls, she and Edwina had spent many rainy afternoons examining the map hanging in the family parlor, taking turns tracing the thin line of the Patapsco River to where it widened into the Chesapeake Bay six miles downstream. A few days ago, she had finally sailed into that bay, and the difference was enormous—more startling than she had ever imagined.

  Since the map showed the long, tapered bay emptying into an ocean so much larger, Caroline had expected to feel something even more spectacular when the sloop had finally headed into the Atlantic. But physically, she hadn’t noticed much change. The water stretched endlessly on all sides, and she felt small and transient in comparison—but not much smaller than she had before.

  Now that she was in the ocean, though, she could imagine the coasts of Europe and Africa in the distance. Just beyond the horizon lay the ancient civilizations of Greece and Rome, and the centers of power and fashion, London and Paris. To the south lay lands of warm waters and exotic fruits. The horizon held no trees, no tobacco fields; and beyond it, she knew, were cities with painted houses and streets teaming with life. A ship could take her over that horizon.

  She joined the seamen’s silent vigil at the rail.

  “North Carolina.”

  The muttered voice shattered her vision of the Paris streets.

  North Carolina was simply another English colony very much like Maryland—only worse. Tobacco and even fewer people. No cities. It would be an endless sea of trees, like home.

  Caroline sighed and stared at the dark strip of land.

  Hardey had questioned a few of the experienced seamen in the crew and found one man who had served on a ship that had actually been inspected by the governor’s secretary in Bath, North Carolina. From this information, the first mate had been able to chart an approximate course for the capital. Stories the seaman had told of the treacherous coast gave him cause for concern, but what was more troubling was the reason for the ship’s inspection. It was a smuggling vessel, and the governor had insisted on receiving first choice of the smuggled merchandise before allowing the ship to sell her wares to the public.

  What kind of dealings could they expect from this governor? Hardey had expressed his worries to his captain, but Talbot seemed to pay no mind. Before they actually sent in a landing party, however, he wanted to try again.

  Several hours later, a lookout spotted the settlement they hoped was Bath, and Edward issued orders to drop anchor and prepare a landing party. Hardey could wait no longer.

  “Captain Talbot.” He rushed up as soon as he heard the rattle of the anchor chain. “May I have a word with you?” He glanced at the figures lining the rails around them. “Alone, please, Captain?”

  “If you insist.” Edward spun on his heel and walked briskly toward the hatch leading to the cabins below, obviously peeved at the delay.

  Once below, Hardey chose his words with care. “Captain, the information we gathered from Justin was not promising. Landing near Bath will be a difficult and dangerous affair.” Seeing these words had no deterrent effect, he continued, “Moreover, this Governor Eden does not appear to be the sort likely to issue a letter of marque against pirates.”

  “Is that all?”

  “Yes, Captain.”

  “So, you’re advising me to abandon my plans, yet you pose no alternative?”

  “We could go to Jamaica, Captain, or perhaps South Carolina.”

  “That would delay our start by several days or even weeks. And we have no guarantee that governors elsewhere are not as corrupt as Eden appears to be. No, no, I have thought this all through. If we offer Eden a ten percent share of the prizes I’m sure he will most gratefully accept. We will, after all, be doing him a favor in protecting the shipping off his coast.”

  Talbot was already ushering him out of the cabin; Hardey knew there was nothing more to be said.

  Though North Carolina ranked as perhaps the least inspiring place on Earth for her at that moment, Caroline still hoped to be chosen to go ashore as one of the landing party. She joined the crowd of eager volunteers as Captain Talbot handpicked a crew to row ashore. Gazing at his profile, she willed him to look at her.

  “Taylor, Aldercroft, O’Toole…”

  But, one-by-one, he called out names and did not even turn in her direction. He would take eight, and seven men had already been selected.

  Then Talbot looked directly at her. Caroline’s heart seemed to stop, and she felt a warm smile start across her face.

  “Dunworth.”

  A man stepped around from behind her. Caroline closed her eyes and ground her teeth together, desperate to stop the tears that pushed against her eyelids. But she felt foolish standing in self-imposed darkness in the midst of all the commotion. She opened her eyes. Blinking quickly to keep back the tears, she tried to move to a more secluded spot where she could master her emotions in private.

  “Bring us back some good rum, d’ye hear?”

  “Aye, if there’s any left after we’ve done.”

  “A few women, then, at least!”

 
The sense of joy on deck depressed Caroline. She was not part of the landing party. She would not get her chance to escape. And Captain Talbot had looked right into her eyes and had not chosen her. It was not an oversight; it was a direct denial of her unspoken yet obvious request to join the group going ashore. Why had he said no? It would have been better if he had never looked at her at all.

  No…no…no…is all Caroline heard with each pull of the oars as she watched the open boat inch through the water toward the shore. The captain sat straight and looked almost tall. Before the boat drew too far away, she could see his face light up with a grin as he said something to one of the men. After she could no longer make out the expressions on his face, she could still see the wind rustle the dark waves of hair and the lace on his collar.

  She went down to lie in her hammock until her watch was called.

  Edward hadn’t made it through the landing with as much grace as he would have liked, and his shoes and stockings were soaked with saltwater that squished with every step he took up the sandy street. It would make for an undignified entrance.

  Nevertheless, he was here. And he drew closer to action with every step.

  The small village of Bath had no official government buildings. In fact, all the buildings were barely deserving of the designation, being little more than ramshackle huts vying for the honor of being the first to blow down in the coming hurricane season. One hut, however, boasted more activity than the others and seemed to play host to a fair number of parasitic-looking figures lounging in the shade of a front awning. This would at least be a good place to start.

  “Pardon me,” Edward addressed one of the parasites, “I am looking for Governor Eden. Is he to be found in this town?”

  “Charlie?” The man nearest Edward spit out a brown stream. “Yeah, he’s in there with Tobias.”

  “Thank you.” Edward started forward to knock on the door but found his progress suddenly halted by the man, who moved with much more speed than his appearance suggested him capable of.

  “He might not want visitors right now.”

  “Governor Eden and Mr. Knight might be discussing…official colonial business,” a second man explained. “We would be more than happy to give him your name and see if he is home to callers given the time of day.” The man looked at his comrades and gave a little snort that was almost a giggle.

  “Do you have a card, sir?” a third man asked, sputtering with laughter.

  “An appointment, you must make an appointment!” the first man added, laughing even harder.

  Edward smiled and stepped back just far enough so the men no longer appeared to be actively blocking his progress toward the door. “Gentlemen, please be so good as to inform your governor that Captain Edward Talbot of the sloop Osprey seeks an audience with His Eminence at his convenience. Alas, I have no card, but I see you have no silver tray for conveying it to His Eminence. Perhaps it is being cleaned by one of the servants?”

  All three parasites laughed, seeming pleased Edward had joined in their mockery of society and officialdom.

  This was unlike any government Edward had ever seen, at least in appearance. But it was what he should have expected from an uncivilized colony like this. Eden should be only too happy to take a share of prizes from the Osprey.

  The first man stepped back to the door and rapped it with the side of his hand. “Charlie, there’s a captain here to see you.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Murphy,” a voice called from inside. “You may enter, Captain.”

  After Edward’s eyes adjusted to darkness inside, he walked over and bowed to the short man who walked forward to greet him. “Captain Edward Talbot of the sloop Osprey, at your service,” he announced.

  The man to whom he had introduced himself wore a brocade waistcoat and an elaborate wig, which was crooked. As if he realized what Edward was thinking, the little man reached up with a quick gesture and flicked the wig into its proper place as he turned and introduced his companion.

  “Captain Talbot, may I present Mr. Tobias Knight? Mr. Knight is the Secretary of the Colony and Collector of Customs.”

  “At your service, Mr. Knight.”

  “Please, take a chair, Captain Talbot,” the governor said, resuming his seat and gesturing toward a leather chair opposite his own. The chair smelled of mildew and rocked as though one of the legs was shorter than the other three.

  “What brings you to see us today?” Knight asked as the governor pulled out a tobacco pipe rolled in padded silk.

  “I have a proposal for the governor, but as it concerns commerce and you are an officer of the colony, I would be pleased to discuss the matter in your company.” Edward hoped his displeasure at Knight’s presence was not obvious. The secretary might object to the plan or, at the very least, demand a share of the prizes for himself. He took a deep breath and continued. “My Lord Governor and Mr. Secretary, you are no doubt aware of the increase in piracy in your coastal waters?”

  “Yes, Captain Talbot,” remarked the governor, speaking somewhat through his pipe.

  “I propose to place my sloop at your disposal to rid your waters of pirates.”

  “Rid us of pirates, Captain Talbot?” The governor appeared amused.

  This was not the reaction Edward had expected. Did the governor think he was not up to the task? “Yes, My Lord Governor. My sloop, the Osprey, served under a letter of marque in the late war with much success. That success can now be turned to the matter of securing domestic shipping. If you would issue a letter of marque authorizing me to capture pirates preying in your coastal waters…” Edward could have sworn he saw Eden and Knight exchange amused glances before resuming their stoic audience. “…then I will devote the efforts of my ship and crew to protecting the safety of your waters.”

  “From pirates, Captain Talbot?”

  “From pirates, My Lord Governor.”

  “And you seek a letter of marque from the governor allowing you to capture pirates and keep their plundered cargoes?” the secretary asked. “How much are you willing to pay for this privilege?”

  “Mr. Secretary, since I offer my services to your colony without charging you a fee, I would hope you would allow me to provide them without charging me one”

  “Hmm.” The governor appeared to frown as he puffed on his pipe.

  “You would, of course, be entitled to the royal prerogative.” Edward had hoped he would not have to resurrect the practice of paying ten percent of privateer earnings to the Crown. In recent years, the government had been so eager to enlist the service of privateers it had stopped requiring them to turn over the royal portion, which had been nearly impossible to collect anyway. But by offering the governor ten percent when the government was no longer entitled to it and would not have to account for it to the royal exchequer, he was effectively offering a bribe. The governor would get ten percent of the prize money for his own pockets.

  Edward paused—there was always a chance his bribe would be met with righteous indignation.

  It was not. Governor Eden slowly rocked in his chair, chomping on his pipe thoughtfully. Secretary Knight looked at his governor, then at Edward, and appeared to grow anxious, shifting repeatedly in his seat. When the governor stood to knock his ashes out the window, the secretary finally spoke.

  “Will you grant us some time to discuss your proposal, Captain Talbot?”

  “Of course. I am at your disposal.” Edward wondered how much time Knight was talking about. Something wasn’t right.

  “We will only be a few minutes, Captain,” the governor said, and nodded him toward the door. “Why don’t you go to the coffeehouse for some refreshment and call on us again in, say, half of an hour?”

  Edward had no choice.

  The “coffeehouse” turned out to be the largest building in the settlement, though, if anything, it was less impressive than any of the other structures. Its framework seemed to remain standing only because it would require too much effort for it to fall down.

 
Coffee was not available at the coffeehouse, but the establishment did offer four kinds of rum, and one of the men on the porch had enthusiastically recommended the punch. Edward passed on the suggestion and instead took a dram of plain rum. Then he headed for the nearest chair and sat down heavily.

  They were going to reject his proposal. Why? He hadn’t offended their sensibilities with his bribe, that much he could tell.

  He stared straight ahead with his eyes out of focus, taking little notice of his surroundings. But the surroundings soon forced themselves on his attention. The “coffeehouse” was full of men, which was very surprising at this time of day. It appeared as though an entire ship’s crew were on leave and had descended en masse to drink the day away. It was a pretty rough crew, too. Edward now noticed weapons in evidence all around—nearly every man wore a knife or a pistol or even a brace of pistols across the shoulders.

  Where had these men come from? They were certainly not tobacco farmers. But his sloop was the only seagoing vessel in sight.

  “’E took the best boots, though, the bugger.”

  “Aye, and the best of the stockings and britches!”

  “Yeah, well, they say Eden gets the first pick of the lot when you bring your cargo to 'The Poor Carolina.'”

  The conversation around him drifted to Edward’s attention. When he heard the governor’s name, he listened more closely.

  “Well, I won’t drink ’is health, anyway. ’E took too much!”

  “We don’t need ’is pardon this time.”

  “Aye, there’s no one about to bring us in.”

  “We should ’ave asked for a vote—we can careen the ship somewhere we ain’t got to pay first!”

  “Quartermaster said the waistcoats and boots and the like brought in a fine sum.”

  “And the tea, I heard. Quare stuff, that is. Drink made from leaves.”

  “Forget the cargo. I wanna know what happened to the goods we took from the gennelman. I heard he had jewels and wigs and pots o’ money.”