“Perhaps you need more convincing.” Laying a finger on her chin, he turned her face back around and took her lips in his again. Isabel lost her senses in the taste of him.
Frederick giggled, and sand showered over them. Pulling away from Kent, Isabel saw her son, his hand raised, about to toss another handful. Kent chuckled—a guttural sound that bounced over Isabel’s heart like droplets of joy. She couldn’t remember ever hearing him laugh before.
“No, no, Freddy.” She pushed his hand back down to the beach and brushed the grains from her gown.
“Seems our son doesn’t approve of me kissing his mother.”
Frederick tossed the sand onto a wave licking his feet and laughed, then turned to seek his mother’s praise. “If he didn’t approve of you, you would know it, I assure you.” She cast him a furtive look from the corner of her eye.
“He’s magnificent,” Kent said, tossing his legs behind Isabel. Leaning down, he propped an elbow in the sand and ran a finger over Frederick’s arm.
“He has your temperament,” Isabel said with annoyance.
Kent lifted a brow. “My apologies.” Then he gazed at his son and leaned toward him. “You’ll make a good pirate someday, boy.”
“He will do no such thing.”
Hann’s laughter drew Isabel’s gaze down the shore to where she sat beside Cutter. He stretched out upon the sand, one arm behind his head. As he’d assured them, his wound had been minor. Captain Morris had already made sail, giving his blessing to his daughter and her newfound love, and planning to rendezvous with them for their wedding at Barbados in a month. Happiness gushed from the couple, warming Isabel’s heart. Silently, she thanked God for bringing her friends together—a most unlikely pair, she had to admit.
But then so were she and Kent.
Isabel turned to the crystalline sea and drew in a deep breath of the salty air laden with the scent of tropical flowers. A hint of Spanish cedar reminded her of Lord Sawkins.
Murato and his warriors had never returned to camp with him. A chill ran down her back as she wondered what had happened to his lordship. Visions of his bloody face drifted through her mind. His one greatest fear—the one thing he’d tried desperately to avoid—had found him in the end.
Kent sat up and ran his fingers through Isabel’s hair. “Have I told you how beautiful you are?’
“Now I know you are truly mad.” She gave him a coy look. “For I’m naught but skin and bones covered in rags and dirt.”
“And even more radiant than ever.”
Isabel gave him a sultry smile and lowered her lashes against his perusal. Feeling his gaze still upon her, she glanced at him again. A breeze lifted from the sea and toyed with his umber hair. Isabel ran her hand over the dark stubble littering his chin. He grabbed it and brought it to his lips, his eyes sparkling with unhindered affection. Isabel felt her heart would burst.
“I cannot believe you love me,” he said.
“It is quite baffling, isn’t it?” Isabel grinned. “God must have brought us together, for I certainly never would have chosen you myself.”
Kent gave her a sideways glance. “And to Him I’ll be eternally grateful. Not only for you.” He brushed a finger over her cheek, sending another warm tingle through her. “But for showing me the truth about myself and forgiving me for being such a rogue my whole life.”
“I believe He’s taught me a great deal as well.” Isabel lowered her gaze, remembering what a prudish, spoiled girl she had been. When she looked back up, Kent smiled and squeezed her hand.
“So where is this pirate ship of yours?” Isabel cast her gaze back out to the sea. “Are you sure they’ll be back for you?”
“Why wouldn’t they?” Kent tossed back his shoulders.
No sooner had Isabel rolled her eyes at his pompous tone than Cutter shouted. “A sail, Captain!” And a glistening spritsail rounded the corner of the cove, followed by the three masts of a frigate. The Restitution rode, all sails brimming, on the swell of a wave, lowering and raising its flag in salute.
Struggling to her feet, Isabel brushed the sand from her torn gown and raised her hand to shield her eyes as she watched the ship lower its sails and throw its anchor into the waters with a splash. No fear welled within her, no terror spiked through her heart at the sight of the pirate ship or even at the thought of boarding it. She knew now that no matter what happened, God was in control. He had put things in the right order in her heart—and in Kent’s—and fear no longer had a place.
Kent stood and tossed Frederick in the air, and the boy let out a loud belly laugh.
“Be careful.” Isabel bit her lip at the sight of her son flying above Kent, arms flailing.
“He’s a boy.” Kent caught him firmly and brought him to his chest. “He needs no further pampering. He needs a father to teach him to be a man.”
Isabel threw her hands on her hips. “And who, pray tell, is going to take on that job?”
An impudent grin lifted Kent’s lips as his eyes scoured over her. “Would you consider marrying a pirate?” He set Frederick down on the sand by their feet.
“It depends on which one.”
He took a step toward her. “Can you never still that sharp tongue of yours?”
“I believe you have discovered a way, Captain.”
Kent pulled Isabel toward him and placed his lips on hers.
The sound of Hann’s and Cutter’s laughter warmed Isabel as she lost herself in Kent’s arms. A sudden blast of sand struck her legs, and she pulled back and looked down to see Frederick, armed and ready with another handful. With a giggle, he glanced up at his parents.
Isabel raised her gaze to Kent’s smiling face, and they fell into each others arms, laughing.
Author’s Historical Footnote:
Richard Sawkins: (British Pirate: Active 1679 – 1680) It seems that Richard Sawkins escaped the clutches of Murato’s band of Caribs for he appeared in the records of piratical history some ten years later. In 1680, he commanded one of the pirate ships in a fleet of five who attacked the coast of Panama. This band of 330 buccaneers then crossed the Isthmus of Darien to the Pacific Coast where Sawkins captured two small Spanish vessels before sailing toward Panama City. On the way, the pirates encountered a Spanish fleet of eight ships and engaged in a furious battle later known as the Battle of Perico. It is said that Sawkins’s extreme bravery contributed largely to the pirates’ victory. Sawkins then led a band of sixty men against the town of Puebla Nueva, but the Spaniards, having been forewarned, were well prepared. Leading the charge at the head of his men, Sawkins was killed by a musket shot. It was said Sawkins was loved by his men for his courage and valiancy and that he was known as a man who feared nothing. (Apparently, facing his biggest fear of disfigurement radically changed Sawkins forever. It is regrettable, however, that it seemed he never turned from his villainous ways.)
John Morris: (British Pirate: active 1663-1672) A good friend of Henry Morgan’s, John Morris participated in most of Morgan’s famous raids including the sack of Granada (1663), and the raids on Porto Bello (1668) and Maracaibo (1669). (After the tragic death of his son and his encounter with Kent and Isabel) Morris returned to piracy, and in 1671, along with Lawrence Prince, led the attack on Panama. After Henry Morgan and the governor of Jamaica were sent to England to be tried for piracy, the new governor of Jamaica, Thomas Lynch, gave John Morris a frigate and ordered him to arrest pirates who refused to give up piracy. (It is this author’s hope that at the end of his life, John Morris forgave those who wronged him and allowed God to heal his broken heart.)
John Morris Jr: (British Pirate: active 1668-1669) Son of John Morris, Johnny commanded his own ship in Henry Morgan’s raids on both Porto Bello and Maracaibo. He was killed when Morgan’s flagship, the HMS Oxford, blew up during a drunken party in January 1669.
About the Author
M. L. (MARYLU) TYNDALL has been writing for twenty years and lives in California with her husband, six children, and three ca
ts.
The Restitution Page 37