Jack Burrell was the last to leave the ship, and Captain Starke made one more attempt to dissuade Sophia from going with him. She flashed the captain a grateful smile. His actions had been the only bright spot in this miserable day.
"Your concern is appreciated, Captain. I will never forget how you spoke up for me," Sophia said.
Burrell looked at her, frowning.
"You are delaying my departure."
"Good-bye, Captain Starke," Sophia said. She looked for a bosun's chair, or a boat, but found herself swept into Jack Burrell's arms, and by instinct threw her hands around his neck to hold on.
The muscles beneath her hands were like taut cables and he smelled of the sea and salt, and unconsciously the image of when she'd last seen him, bound and naked, flashed through her mind. He had his arm beneath her, holding her against his body, and the brass buttons of his coat flashed in the hot sun.
"Throw that line over," Burrell called, and when the rope came by he grabbed it, wrapped it around the two of them, and swung them back through the air between the two ships, landing lightly on the deck of the Jade.
"You may let go of my neck, Mrs. Deford."
Sophia released him as if he burned, unaware she had still been clutching him for dear life.
"Come," he commanded, and she followed as he went below to the captain's cabin beneath the curious gaze of his crew. As his feet hit the lower deck he flipped up his eyepatch and removed it, putting it in his pocket, then lifted Sophia off the ladder and put her on her feet. He handled her impersonally, like a sack of potatoes, and she was glad he wasn't pawing at her. If he was going to kill her, she would prefer it be a clean death. But she did not think he would kill her. Not yet, anyway.
She entered the cabin behind him, at a glance taking in the neatly stowed gear, the compass over the captain's bunk, the table covered with charts anchored by books. Her trunks were shoved up against a bulkhead. But no matter where she looked, Lucky Jack Burrell dominated her view.
He was leaner and browner than he'd been five years ago, deep lines fanning out from the corners of his eyes. Without speaking he poured a light yellow wine for the two of them and motioned her to the only chair in the cabin.
Burrell leaned against the bulkhead, crossed his arms over his chest and studied her. She took a small sip of her wine, and then set it aside. She'd bluffed her way through bad hands before, but this bluff had her future and her life riding on the outcome. What was important was to remember that in so many ways, she held the winning cards.
That did help relax her, and she eased out the stiffness in her shoulders.
He broke the silence first.
"I was nabbed by a press gang after I escaped from that cave. Do you know, Miss Deford, what kind of hell waits for American sailors pressed into the Royal Navy?"
"It is hardly my fault you were so incompetent in your escape."
She hoped that iron jaw would drop an inch or two, but his widened eyes were still a good response. Shock was better than fury to keep him off balance.
"I don't care what Erasmus Tanner says, I'm dropping you over the side."
"Oh, please." She rolled her eyes. "Do you ruin every moneymaking opportunity that crosses your path?"
Jack Burrell rose and, pulling Tanner's letter out from his jacket, tossed it on the table. The broken wax seal flaked off and scattered like
small drops of blood across the surface.
"Moneymaking? Erasmus writes you have in your possession a map that may be of interest to me and I should offer you whatever assistance you need as you travel through East Florida. I had no idea Erasmus lost his mind before he died. Being out of his head is the only explanation I can imagine for him making the ridiculous suggestion that I willingly spend time with you."
"You brought me here. And may I remind you Captain Tanner also said in his letter to you that you owe him your life? Seems he fished you out of the water after you escaped in the Bahamas, and he did not turn you over to the Royal Navy."
"So you did open and read my correspondence! I might have known there were no depths to which you would not stoop," he sneered, his outrage a good act for a man who'd just robbed her ship. "I only brought you here because it is easier to dispose of your body off of my own ship, not because of any supposed debt to Captain Tanner. Give me your map and I will let you go on your way, and we will call it even for you robbing me."
"I cannot give you my map."
"That is an imprudent answer, Miss Deford. You will give me your map, and I will not throw you over the side to the sharks. I will go one better. Give me your map and I will keep my men from molesting you, and I will drop you in Florida, unharmed."
She ignored his threat and leaned forward in her chair.
"What do you know about Garvey's Gold, Captain Burrell?"
He looked at her and then he started to laugh, loudly and uproariously. She watched him in silence, and when he calmed down he said, "You mean this map claims to show the location of Garvey's Gold? Please tell me you paid a great deal of money for it, because that would make my day just perfect."
He wiped his eyes.
"Erasmus Tanner has sent you halfway across the world chasing a will-o'-the-wisp."
"Well you might snicker, but if you are familiar with the Florida coast and the Caribbean, you know the story."
"Everyone knows the tale of Garvey's Gold. It's a myth."
"Is it?"
"Of course. Old sailors tell it to gullible visitors as they cadge drinks in the taverns. It goes something like this: In 1772 the Spanish ship Santa Lucia was taken by pirates, but a hurricane hit before the pirates could get back to their base in Nassau. Some of the pirates made it ashore to Florida, led by their Captain, Charles Garvey. Realizing they had no way to transport the stolen loot in open boats, they buried it near the mouth of the St. Johns River, or on Key Marquez, or at Cayo Hueso, which I assure you covers a great deal of the most insect and fever ridden-land ever seen outside of Hell itself.
"Many men have sought Garvey's Gold, and all those who came back, came back empty handed. The rest died."
"It is not a myth, and Captain Tanner knew that."
"And he knew this how?"
"He was a boy aboard Garvey's ship when they took the Santa Lucia."
Jack Burrell raised his eyebrows at this, but said nothing, so Sophia continued.
"Captain Tanner was a customer in my bookshop in Portsmouth, and a friend, and he recognized me, though he never let on. I am told I bear a striking resemblance to my late grandmother, at whose house Captain Tanner was a guest in his younger days. My grandfather was a pirate and sometimes, a privateer."
"Why am I not surprised?"
"Grandfather ended his career of piracy when he became a respectable country squire, knighted by his king for service to the crown in the West Indies. The reason Captain Tanner knew my grandfather is because he was Captain Garvey's mate, and Grandfather swore he'd helped Garvey hide his treasure. Grandfather and Captain Garvey then made a map with clues and split it in half, to keep each other honest.
"Grandfather gave me the map to keep, shortly before he died. I dismissed the whole thing as an interesting tale until events later in my life led me to believe the map might be real. But I could never go after the treasure on my own.
"Captain Tanner was your friend, Captain Burrell. Did you ever tell him the story of how you were robbed after you took a turn as a gentleman of the road?"
Burrell fiddled with a pencil on the table.
"Yes, and he thought it an amusing tale. I wasn't laughing."
"That would explain his reaction when I told him my tale of how I ended up in Portsmouth. He laughed so hard I thought he would choke. Little did I realize he was convulsed with laughter because he knew the highwayman. You. And now, Captain Tanner's rather bizarre sense of humor is reaching out to us from the grave. He left Captain Garvey's piece of the map and the clues to me. He wanted me to travel to Florida and combine forces with his frien
d John Burrell and use your knowledge of the area to find Garvey's Gold."
"An interesting proposition, Miss Deford, but I have no intention of saddling myself with a treacherous little schemer who would stab me the minute my back is turned."
She had wiggled the bait. Now it was time to plant the hook.
"Let me give you one more piece of information to help you make up your mind as to why you should go into partnership with me, Captain. Another man has a copy of my map and is going after the gold."
"Who is this other dreamer?"
"Your old friend, Lord Whitfield. He must know of Tanner's death and thought the time was right to hunt for Garvey's Gold since he has part of the map. He might have Garvey's piece as well, but if he does not, he is missing clues.
"He does not know the area like Captain Tanner says you do, and that gives us an advantage, but even with another guide he could stumble across the gold. I am wagering you do not want to see that happen any more than I do. The only way we are going to beat Whitfield and find the treasure ourselves is if we combine forces, staying ahead of him."
"It is your fault, Miss Deford, that I do not have the money I got back from Whitfield five years ago, which if I had, would mean I would need no further dealings with him, nor you!"
"I owe you nothing, Captain Burrell, for your own foolishness in losing your money to Whitfield. And if you wish to regain your money, from him or from me, you need me alive, healthy, and willing to work with you."
"Keep telling yourself that, Miss Deford. It may help ease your mind while I decide what to do with you. And we have time." He smiled at her, the same smile that almost made her quail before him on the deck of the Primrose. "It will be days before we reach Florida. Much can happen at sea. I expect by the time we make landfall you will be more than eager to give me the map."
He walked around to sit on the edge of the table, very near her, and reached out one finger to stroke it along her jawline and down to where the collar of her dress rested.
"Maybe you have the map on your person and I should search you.
Or we can talk instead about how you will pay your passage to Florida on the Jade and give me recompense for your robbing me." He glanced over his shoulder at his bunk, then turned and gave her that same unpleasant smile.
Sophia arched one brow and was grateful Jack Burrell couldn't see the icy sweat trickling down her back.
"I am sure it would be entertaining for one of us, and nauseating for the other, but no."
"Miss Deford, you do not inspire nausea in me. Yet."
"You need me alive, healthy, and cooperative, Captain," she said with more assurance than she felt. "Take me to Florida and we will search for Garvey's Gold together."
She was counting on his greed to see her through this. And there was more she could do to sweeten the pot. He frowned when he saw his touch wasn't causing her to plead or beg for her release, and he was clearly suspicious of her poise.
"What aren't you telling me?"
"You will not find the map with the clues, Captain Burrell. If you tear apart my luggage, if you tear apart my clothing, you will not find the map. I will save you the time and effort. I do not have a copy of the map with me."
A muscle twitched next to Jack Burrell's eye.
"No map," he said softly. "Then explain to me, if you would be so kind, Miss Deford, why I should not throw your carcass into the Atlantic Ocean?"
"Let me expand on that statement, Captain Burrell. There is no paper map. The clues are inside my head."
"Inside your head?"
"I don't think you understand—" Sophia started to say, but she stopped. Burrell rose and walked around until he stood behind her. She started to rise, tensing as his hands came down on her shoulders, holding her in her seat. Then his hands move up to her neck, where they rested. She swallowed, and could feel his long fingers around her throat. He put his head close to hers and spoke softly.
"How about if I twist your lying little head off your shoulders and shake it until clues fall out? Miss Deford, you are close to a most unpleasant experience. If you wish to make it through until tomorrow, I want an explanation. A real one, not some nonsense."
"It is not nonsense," Sophia said, staring straight ahead. "Stop being melodramatic and sit down, and I will explain everything."
A chuckle wafted past her ear.
"You may not have sense, but you do not lack for courage, Miss Deford. Very well. I will hear the rest of this fairy tale."
Sophia felt her tense body ease a fraction as he moved away from her. Calm. Control. She held those words in her mind, and relaxed her hands. Never let them see your fear, her father had taught her. But instead of sitting on his bunk, Jack Burrell perched on the edge of the table, looming over her. Still within arm's reach, if he wanted to grab her and twist her head off.
She looked up at him.
"I have a gift, Captain Burrell. I remember every piece of writing I have ever seen. Including the map showing the clues to Garvey's Gold."
"I do not believe you."
She shrugged.
"No one ever does. Mr. Deford won many wagers based on people refusing to believe I had this talent."
She stopped, aware she'd revealed more about her personal life than she wished. Now was the time to focus on the future, particularly the next few moments, not dwell on the past.
Jack stared at her, then said, "Wait here."
Sophia thought about jumping up and making a run for it, but it was a thought quickly squashed. He wouldn't kill her. Not after she showed him. And aboard ship she had no place to run to.
Jack rummaged through a chest and returned with a slim green volume.
"Pick a page at random and read it."
Sophia took the book from him, glanced at the cover, and then tried to open it in the middle.
"The pages are stuck together."
Jack's face flushed and he grabbed the book back from her, opening it himself. A smile curved his lips.
"Here. Read this."
Sophia looked at the point indicated, read it silently, then handed the book back to him.
"Now," Jack said in triumph, "tell me what you just read."
'"Slipping then a pillow under me, that I might give time the fairest play, I guided officiously with my hand this furious battering ram, whose ruby head, presenting nearest the resemblance of a heart, I applied to its proper mark..."'
Sophia continued reciting the page of text from The Memoirs of a Woman of Pleasure in a steady monotone while Jack Burrell read along, his face changing from triumph to puzzlement.
"You read the entire page without an error."
"Of course. I told you I could do it. And I can recite the clues for the treasure from memory as well."
"That is an amazing talent, Miss Deford."
"It is a parlor trick, nothing more, Captain Burrell. But in this case, a useful parlor trick."
He was watching her now with a new look on his face, one of speculation.
"Draw me this map then, Miss Deford, and I will let you go unharmed."
"I am offering you a business opportunity, Captain Burrell, a chance to find a sizable treasure and to get it ahead of a man you have a grudge against. What gain is there for you in molesting or killing me?"
"Satisfaction!" Burrell snapped. "For five years I dreamt of what I would do when I caught up with you, Miss Sophia Deford! You cost me everything I had, put me at the mercy of press gangs, and meanwhile you were living comfortably off the proceeds of my efforts!"
"Running a bookstore is hardly living a sybaritic life of revelry, Captain Burrell. What a whining person you are, to carry on so after all this time! Take me to Florida, Captain, and we will find enough treasure that all your dreams of avarice and luxury will be fulfilled. You can retire from robbing ships and play at highwayman or do whatever else suits you. And you never have to see me again."
"If I throw you to the sharks, I also never have to see you again!"
"Yes,
but you will not have Garvey's Gold. And Whitfield might get it. Then how would you feel?"
"You don't have what it takes to find Garvey's Gold," he sneered, firing his last salvo.
She stood and leaned forward, hands flat on the table, her face so close to his she could see the stubble on his square chin.
"The treasure is estimated to be worth fifty thousand pounds, Captain Burrell. Fifty thousand pounds. I would walk through hell, barefoot, to get fifty thousand pounds of gold and silver. And I wager you are willing to put up with me to get your share of the booty."
"If I join you in this fool's quest, your share might be only twenty-five thousand."
"We shall see," was all she said. She sat back down in the chair, and watched Jack Burrell stand and pace his cabin, glaring at her. Sophia could tell this wasn't playing out as he intended. No more so than the scene in the cave some five years back. He still underestimated her, and that was a good thing. She couldn't relax her guard, not now, but if she could keep leading him along, she might get the prize in the end.
And then she could deal with Lucky Jack Burrell once and for all. The man simply was not cut out for a life of larceny, at least not with her in his vicinity.
CHAPTER 6Jack paced his cabin, glaring at his captive, but her composure didn't crack. For all her exterior looked soft and fluffy, she was as tough as a Boston fishwife, and he began to believe the little thief would walk through Hell barefoot for fifty thousand pounds. Or even twenty-five thousand. He'd insulted her, threatened her, kidnapped her off her ship, but she still watched him as she did in that damn cave, looking at him like he was nothing more than a temporary irritant.
He needed the map. Despite what he'd said earlier, he believed Captain Tanner might know the location of the treasure, and with fifty thousand pounds—which translated into a great deal of American dollars—he could buy more ships and increase his holdings.
"You make a most persuasive argument, Miss Deford," Jack said. "But have you considered this? If you don't give me the map, we will have to travel together if you wish to beat Whitfield and find the treasure. If you stay with me aboard the Jade I cannot answer for how you will be treated in the future by society. Is Mrs. Deford concerned about her reputation, or would it not bother you to be labeled an adventuress? Or worse?
The Bride and the Buccaneer Page 4