Fortune's Bride

by French, Judith E.

  “Garrett?”

  Her voice was low and husky. His name on her lips sent a shiver down his spine. “The Tories hold Tangier Island and the surrounding area. Once we’re safely past the island—”

  “We can’t go to Fortune’s Gift,” she said, seizing his forearm. “I have to get to Chestertown.”

  Her nails bit into his skin. “Please. Reed’s there. I can’t tell you how I know, but I know it. And if we don’t get to him right away, he’ll die.”

  Garrett sat on the side of her bunk. “Use sense, girl. You wanted to go home. Now I’m taking you. You’ve been on this ship since we sailed from Port-au-Prince. There’s no way you could know where Reed is any more than I could. The last word we had, he was a prisoner in New York.”

  “He might have been there, but he’s not now,” she said urgently. “I saw him in a dream. For months, I’ve been seeing his grave. But this was different. First I saw the grave, then I went back—before. He’s not dead yet. He’s in Chestertown in the cellar of the Customs House.”

  “Caroline, you’ve got to listen to me,” he reasoned. “You’re losing your grip on reality.”

  “I found the treasure, didn’t I?”

  “Yes, you found the damned treasure. But that doesn’t make you a witch, and it doesn’t mean you can—”

  “I’m not telling you the truth,” she admitted. “Reed is in Chestertown, but I didn’t dream it. Someone told me.”

  “Who?”

  “You wouldn’t believe me.”

  “Who?”

  “Kutii.”

  “Caroline . . .”

  “Call him a ghost, call him a spirit—call him anything you want. I don’t pretend to understand it, but I know he’s as real as you and me. He told me about the treasure and we found it. Now he’s telling me I have to go to Chestertown if I want to save Reed.”

  Garrett stood up and turned away from her. “If I take you to Chestertown, if I prove to you that Reed’s not there, then will you go back to Fortune’s Gift and stay there?”

  “What about my cousin Bruce?”

  “I’ll handle Bruce.”

  “What happens to us once you take me to Fortune’s Gift?” she asked him. She had never felt more vulnerable than she did right now. Her resistance to Garrett—to giving herself to him completely, body and soul, seemed to melt away in the shared darkness of the cabin.

  “What do you want to happen?” He heard her feet touch the floor, then she was in his arms.

  “I want to be your wife, Garrett,” she said with a burst of pent-up emotion. “I don’t care if it’s for two hours or two days. I want us to stop all this pretending that we don’t care. I love you more than my own life. I want to you to be my husband.”

  “And if I get killed in the war?” Suddenly all his arguments for keeping an emotional distance from Caroline seemed weak. Had he been a fool to waste what time they had? “I can’t stay with you. I have to do what I can to help in this struggle against the English.”

  “I’ll take my chances, the same as every other wife of an American soldier or sailor.” Her arms went around his neck, and he groaned as she pulled his head down. Their lips met, and for a long minute, he lost himself in the intensity of their kiss.

  It took every ounce of his willpower to step away from her. “I’ll take you to Chestertown,” he promised. “Damn me for a fool, but I’ll do it.”

  “I love you.”

  “In spite of Wesley and the Osprey?”

  “I believe in your innocence, Garrett. I think I’ve always believed you, deep down inside. And it doesn’t matter anymore what happened that night the Osprey sunk. It wasn’t your fault any more than it was Wesley’s or Reed’s. I’m sorry I ever blamed you for it.”

  Someone rapped on the cabin door. “Captain, it’s your second, Bridger. Mr. Conner needs you on the quarterdeck, sir.”

  “I have to go,” Garrett told Caroline.

  She ran to him and kissed him again. “I mean every word, Garrett,” she whispered. “I do love you.”

  “And I love you,” he said. “Heaven help me, but I do.”

  “You’ll give our marriage a second chance?”

  “Captain, sir?” Bridger called again.

  “Coming,” Garrett answered.

  “Garrett?” She held her breath as she waited for his answer.

  “There’s no need for a second chance,” he said. “I never stopped loving you since the first night I climbed through your window.”

  Two days later, Caroline walked down High Street in the riverfront port of Chestertown. She crossed over to the brick building that housed William Myers and Son—Transporters and Investors, went inside, and inquired whether Mr. James Myers was in the office. James, grandson of the long-dead William who’d founded the firm, had remained firmly on the fence in the matter of independence for the Colonies. Despite that, Caroline’s father had done business with both James and his father, and she was certain she could ask questions of James without putting herself at risk. Unfortunately, the clerk informed her that James was in Annapolis.

  Carolineleft Myers and Son and continued on down the hill toward the Chester River and His Royal Majesty’s Customs House. There were few people on the street, and she noticed far fewer ships at anchor than normal. An official British port of entry for many years, Chestertown had been recently losing much of the shipping to the growing town of Baltimore on the bay.

  The Cassandra was anchored in a hidden cove a few miles away. Caroline and Garrett had come to the outskirts of the town with a handful of men. It had been Garrett’s idea that they go to the Customs House in daylight and try to find out if Reed was actually there, before planning a jailbreak. And Caroline had insisted that she was the logical one to do the reconnaissance.

  “I suppose you expect to knock on the door and ask if they’re holding any traitors prisoner in the cellar,” he’d said.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” she’d replied. “I’ll ask the town gossip. If Mattie Lee doesn’t know, no one will.”

  “And if someone recognizes you?”

  “What difference would that make? The authorities aren’t looking for me. I’m a loyal subject of the crown, remember?”

  Mattie Lee lived only two doors down from the Customs House. She had been a cook and housekeeper for her employers for over forty years, and she knew every resident of Chestertown and all their secrets. Furthermore, Mattie’s grandson, Plato, was a shepherd on Fortune’s Gift.

  As she neared the Customs House, Caroline noticed two British soldiers standing at attention on either side of the entranceway. She kept her eyes averted beneath her wide straw lady’s hat as she walked past.

  Her heartbeat had just slowed to normal when she heard someone shout her name. Startled, she turned to see her cousin Bruce.

  “Stop that woman!” he ordered the two guards.

  Caroline’s stomach lurched. Bruce! The last person in the world she’d wanted to meet. She resisted the urge to run, knowing she’d only look foolish, and tried to maintain her dignity as the two tall redcoats dashed toward her.

  “You’ll ’ave to come with us, mistress,” the older of the two said sternly.

  The younger, blond and fresh-cheeked, didn’t speak. He flushed a dark red and his prominent Adam’s apple bobbed. He would have taken hold of her arm, but Caroline fixed him with such a fierce glare than he snatched his hand back as if he’d been burned.

  Bruce came trotting up behind them. “Well, cousin,” he said sarcastically. “You’re as tanned as a field hand. Where have you been?”

  “What business is it of yours?” she replied.

  “Corporal, this is my ward. I am responsible for her safety, and she has been quite ill.” He tapped his round forehead with one ragged fingernail. “Mistress Steele has a nervous condition.”

  Caroline’s eyes narrowed in disgust. Bruce was as slovenly as ever. Even the new red coat he was wearing was spotted with wine stains, and his sash looked as through d
ogs had been sleeping on it. “You have no right to detain me,” she said. “I am not Mistress Steele; I am Mistress Garrett Faulkner. My husband has legal jurisdiction over me, not you, cousin.”

  He smiled. “I think not. Where is this husband of yours? Another traitor. You are dangerously close to arrest yourself. Is he with you, I hope?”

  “He abandoned me in Charleston,” she lied.

  “A pretty story. And why, pray tell, are you here in Chestertown instead of at Fortune’s Gift?”

  “Has Major Whitehead forgiven you for—”

  “The good major left Fortune’s Gift two weeks ago, transferred to New York with all his men. I have been assigned to Chestertown, and until our new commander arrives, I am the senior officer here.” He motioned toward the Customs House. “Bring her inside. It’s best we don’t make a dog-and-bear show for the locals.’

  “I’m not going with you,” Caroline said.

  “You will come, or you will be carried. Which is it, Caroline?” He smiled again. “I hope you’ve brought Amanda and her whelp back with you.”

  “No,” she answered quickly.

  “No, you won’t walk, or no, your pet nigra has abandoned you as well?”

  Having no desire to be dragged through the public street, she gave in and followed him without further protest. “My sister and her son stayed in Charleston.”

  “A pity,” Bruce said. “You see, Corporal, Mistress Steele is so distraught, she believes that she is sister to a black slave wench.”

  “Amanda is free,” Caroline replied.

  “We’ll see about that.”

  As they neared the entrance of the Customs House, the blond soldier quickened his step and opened the door for them. Caroline nodded her thanks and entered the cool, austere building.

  “Resume your posts,” Bruce told the guards. “Under no circumstances are you to permit my ward to leave the building without me.” He glanced back at Caroline. “So why exactly are you in Chestertown?”

  She gathered her courage. “I’ve come to see my brother.” Bruce blanched. “I know he’s a prisoner here,” she continued. “I demand to see him.”

  “You are in no position to demand anything from me.”

  “Please, Bruce.” It galled her to ask anything of him, but she must find out if Reed was really here and if he was all right. “It’s been so long.”

  “How did you know he’d been moved to Chestertown?”

  “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that I see him.” She tried to play the role of a distressed woman. “Please. What can it hurt?”

  “You must know that I intend to annul your marriage to Faulkner. After that, he will be arrested and hanged for high treason. I am shocked at you, Caroline, to marry the man responsible for your husband’s death. Faulkner is the notorious Captain Osprey. Did you know?”

  “I learned of it. And when I did, I confronted him with his past. It was the reason we fought, and the reason he left me,” she lied glibly.

  “I am responsible for having Reed brought to Chestertown. Despite his sentence, it may be possible to have him released in my custody. He lost an arm—did you know that? A one-armed man is little danger to anyone. With the right bribes, I may be able—”

  Reed had lost an arm! Caroline tried to keep from breaking down. “Please,” she said. “You must let me go to him.”

  “I intend to be your next husband,” he said.

  “I don’t wish to marry, ever again.”

  He shrugged. “You will marry me if you don’t want to see Reed sent back to one of those prison ships. Have you heard of conditions on the Jersey? They say the men who die are the lucky ones.”

  “I don’t believe you. I don’t believe anything you say. Let me see my brother, and then we’ll discuss my future plans.”

  “As you wish. Private Starr!”

  A young soldier appeared in the doorway leading to the next room and snapped a salute. “Captain, sir.”

  “Take the lady down to the cellar. She may visit the prison for ten minutes. No more. And they are not to touch. If there is any physical contact, the visit is at an end. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, sir!”

  Reed was imprisoned in a small room in the dampest part of the cellar. He was unshaved and dressed in rags, and it was plain to Caroline that he’d not had a bath or a decent meal in many months.

  “Reed!” she cried.

  He rose off the pile of dirty straw until the ankle chain pulled tight. “Caroline! For God’s sake, don’t come any closer. I’m crawling with lice.”

  She glanced at the soldier. “Leave us some privacy, can’t you. He said I couldn’t touch him; he didn’t say anything about talking. This is my brother, and I haven’t seen him for over a year.”

  Starr backed off. “You leave the door open, and stay clear of him,” he warned.

  She turned her attention to Reed. He was skin and bone, his cheeks as hollow as a starvelings, his eyes sunken. “How are you?” she asked.

  “You can look at me and ask that?” His voice was thin, but the old Reed hadn’t changed. He was always ready to laugh, especially at his own woes.

  “You look beautiful to me,” she said and meant every word.

  “Have you talked with our loving cousin?” Reed asked her.

  “Yes.”

  “He wants Fortune’s Gift—all of it.”

  “He said he may be able to get you paroled.”

  “When the devil sprouts wings and a halo. He wants me dead—and you. After he weds you and gets an heir from your body.”

  What? Another monster wants me to bear his heir? she thought with a sinking heart. “I’m already remarried,” she told him. “And with child.”

  He smiled. “Congratulations. Don’t let Bruce know that if you can help it. Who’s the lucky man?”

  She held her breath. “Garrett Faulkner.”

  “Garrett?” His smile broke into a wide grin.

  “You couldn’t have done better for yourself, little sister. He’s a man I’m proud to have as a brother-in-law.”

  “Are you, Reed? Even after what happened?”

  “Hell, sis, you can’t blame Garrett. Wesley was in command that night. He—”

  “Wesley?” She stared at him in disbelief. “Wesley took the Osprey into that fight?”

  “You didn’t know that?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “I know Garrett is the captain they called Osprey, but I didn’t know Wesley was at the helm. Garrett said it wasn’t his fault. They tried him for treason, you know. They dismissed charges for insufficient evidence, but everyone still suspects—”

  “Well, high command won’t think it for long. I was afraid something like that might happen. I made a full report to a Methodist minister when the British surgeon amputated my arm last winter.”

  “Last winter? Then you didn’t injure your arm in the fire when the ship went down?”

  “Yes, I did. Along with my hip, my leg, and a few ribs. But the damned arm never healed right. They didn’t give me proper medical treatment or even clean bandages. When it started to stink, they found some butcher to cut it off. I thought I was dying, and I called for a man of God to confess my sins to. Reverend Gates wrote out what I told him, and I signed it with my left hand. He hid it in his Bible. He promised to see that the letter went to the nearest Continental unit with orders to send it directly to Washington himself. Don’t forget his name,” Reed cautioned her. “The Reverend Thomas Gates from Morristown, New Jersey. A deathbed statement from a hero like me should stand up in any court.”

  “It’s hard for me to accept that Wesley was in command that night,” she said. “I never dreamed that he was the one at fault.”

  “You’d best believe it. You know what a hothead Wes could be. Garrett told him not to go after that merchant ship. It was too easy a prize. Not even the Brits would be stupid enough to try running up the Delaware without an escort. But Wesley was hell-bent on proving he was as good a captain as Gar
rett, and he convinced the men to try. You know the results.”

  “Time’s about up, miss,” the private called.

  “Just another minute,” she pleaded. She looked into Reed’s eyes. “Don’t give up hope.”

  “Worry about yourself. Bruce can’t be trusted.”

  “We’ll get you out of here,” she promised.

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Of course it matters. We’ll get you home to Fortune’s Gift and get you a physician—”

  “Caroline, listen to me. I don’t have long to live, no matter where I am.”

  “Don’t say that.”

  “Miss!” the soldier said.

  “Reed, you won’t die,’ Caroline whispered. ”I won’t let you.”

  “I have consumption,” he said. “I’m coughing up blood. “I’ve lost an arm, and I have a belly wound that won’t heal. What happens to me isn’t important. It’s you and Fortune’s Gift that—”

  “And Amanda,” she cried. “What about Amanda?”

  “Her too.”

  The guard approached them. “You’ll have to go up now, miss. Orders from Captain Talbot.”

  She ignored him. “Amanda married Noah Walker,” she said to Reed. “They’re going to live on Arawak Island.”

  “Maybe that’s for the best,” her brother answered hoarsely.

  “Come along quiet, miss.” The soldier took hold of Caroline’s arm.

  “You have a son, Reed,” she said. “A beautiful son.” She yanked her hand out of the guard’s grasp. “His name is Jeremy.” Private Starr reddened and reached for her again, and she threw him a withering look. “Have you no decency? One more minute, and I’ll go.”

  Reed was staring at Caroline as though she’d grown a second head. “I have a what?”

  “A son,” she replied.

  “And who is the mother?”

  She felt her cheeks grow hot. “You don’t know? Amanda.”

  “She told you that?”

  “No . . . but . . .” Caroline hesitated. “She didn’t say who the father was, but I thought that you and she . . .”

  “Loved each other,” he continued. “We did, but we both knew it could never be. I knew she was with child, Caroline, but I’m not the father. Amanda and I never were intimate.”