The Bride and the Buccaneer

by Darlene Marshall

  "Draw me the map, and I will pay you for it. Not twenty-five thousand, but enough for you to profit from this journey without putting your life and your reputation at risk."

  She watched him with no expression. If she was insulted by his words, she never let it show.

  "I am not a girl fresh from the schoolroom, Captain Burrell. My reputation is my concern." She paused for a moment. "However, there is something we must settle between us. Whatever you think of me personally, you can either treat this as a business opportunity and act accordingly, or you can forget about ever finding Garvey's Gold. I will be treated as a partner, or I will take my clues with me to Florida, or to the grave."

  She stood, and put her hand out.

  "Shall we shake hands on our new partnership?"

  After a moment's hesitation Jack stuck out his own hand. Hers was soft but firm in his, and she looked him in the eye as they shook hands.

  "Stay here," Jack said abruptly, feeling a need for distance from his unwelcome guest. He turned from the door and frowned at her, standing so demurely in the middle of his cabin. "And try not to

  sabotage my ship while I am gone."

  * * *

  "When you are quite finished, Mr. Rice, we will discuss this situation."

  "I'm sorry, Cap'n," George Rice said, taking out his handkerchief and wiping his streaming eyes, "but you have to admit, it's damned amusing."

  "Not to some of us," Jack Burrell muttered.

  "I still cannot believe that little girl is the one who hoodwinked you. After your tales I was expecting a strapping Amazon hurling lightning bolts, not some china dolly!"

  The first mate started laughing again, which didn't improve his captain's mood.

  "A coral snake is small and attractive, but its bite is nonetheless deadly. Strive for some composure, Mr. Rice! You and the late Captain Tanner share warped senses of humor."

  "Ah, but I miss Erasmus! There was a man who knew how to get the most out of life. And he was a damn fine sailor."

  "Erasmus Tanner, for all his good qualities, was a dreamer," Jack said, but his voice softened as he remembered the man who'd taught him so much of sailing these waters. The war had driven them to opposite flags, but it didn't keep them from maintaining their friendship and respect for each other.

  However, it was Captain Tanner who'd put him in the situation he found himself in today.

  "There is nothing funny about being crushed over the head, tied up naked and robbed, Mr. Rice."

  "Well, considering how we're always hitting and robbing other people—though we have yet to leave them tied up naked—I'd say there is a great deal to laugh about here."

  Rice blew his nose vigorously, then shook his head as he put up his cloth. "On the other hand, Cap'n, there's nothing funny about having a woman aboard a privateer, guest or no."

  "Indeed. However, Miss Deford and I have unfinished business and I need to get information from her before I set her down in Florida. I don't believe the ship's discipline will be compromised if she stays aboard for a few days."

  "Maybe not, Cap'n, since it's your ship and your guest. But what do you intend when you get to Florida?"

  "That will depend on what Miss Deford tells me over the course of the journey. The Jade needs careening and if I have to stay with Miss Deford this is an opportune time for you to get that done."

  "Aye, Cap'n, I can do that for you. But if we stop in Georgia your family will want news of you."

  "I will figure something out. In the meantime, let us focus on our immediate needs. Do you still want to put in at Fernandina?"

  "Aye, Cap'n." The mate scratched his head, thinking. He was a stump of a man, browned to the texture of old boots by years spent in tropical waters. Rice and Burrell went back to the conflict with England in 1812, when merchant seamen and ships' owners like Burrell's father scrambled to get privateers manned and out on the water. Since the war, though, it was only the occasional Spanish merchantman and sometimes, when they weren't being particular, ships of other nations, like the Primrose. Rice had had the dubious pleasure of serving on one of His Majesty's ships before escaping to an American vessel during the war, and he had no love for the English or their navy.

  The war was over, but neither man was prepared to settle on shore yet, not with the unrest in South America, Florida, and Mexico keeping them busy. Political turmoil meant governments too busy to pay attention to stray privateers, and stretched too thin to put their resources to work keeping the sea lanes safe for shipping.

  And Amelia Island and the port town of Fernandina, situated just over the border from the United States, was a congenial spot for a sailor looking to trade goods or procure goods for trade with few questions asked about their provenance.

  "For tonight I hope to make it to Key Marquez, Mr. Rice. We can

  replenish the water there."

  Jack felt the wind on his face, judging almost by instinct the time to their destination if the weather held. He knew the ship beneath his feet, every plank and cable of her. The Jade had been his father's ship, a Baltimore schooner that could work fast to windward like a dancer performing a pirouette. During the war she'd taken many a blow, but the skill of her American gunners and crew made her the envy of other sailors and the bane of British shipping.

  He could go home now. His mother was always writing him it was time for him to return to the farm and take up his duties as eldest and heir, but Jack knew his brother Malcolm was more suited to the life. He loved the land as Jack loved the sea, and with Garvey's Gold Jack could afford to deed the properties to Malcolm and stay out on the ocean.

  Mr. Rice cleared his throat, bringing Jack back to the present.

  "If Miss Deford is staying aboard ship, have you given any thought to where you'll stow her?"

  * * *

  A similar question was going through Sophia's mind as she explored the captain's cabin. After Burrell'd huffed his way out, Sophia waited a few minutes, sitting demurely in his chair, until there was total silence outside the door. Then she scurried over to his seachest, pulled a pair of pins from her hair and opened the lock.

  "Now, what have we here a girl might need?" she murmured.

  There was a wicked looking dagger, but hers was better, so she ignored that. She did take out the roll of banknotes and toyed with the idea of removing half of them, figuring it was only just compensation for the aggravation he'd put her through this day.

  "But that would make me a common thief." She smiled as she put back the money. His log was quickly scanned through and memorized—one never knew when such knowledge might come in handy—but she ignored the gold watch in a pocket on the side of the chest. That was an item he'd realize was missing. The double miniature was interesting. It was an older woman and a young girl, and the thought "wife and daughter" passed through her head, but then she saw the resemblance between the women and her captor, and "mother and sister" made more sense.

  So, the fierce privateer had a family? Nothing odd there, most people did. She was a rare exception in having few living relatives, and if they were of the same mold as Whitfield she had no desire to meet any of them.

  The miniature showed the lady wearing a dress quite fashionable a few years back, and a substantial pearl necklace. More clues as to her highwayman turned privateer's life. She knew he was what passed for a gentleman in America, otherwise he would not have been playing cards with Lord Whitfield. Not a common seaman, more likely an American merchant family.

  Sophia wasn't overly familiar with Americans as a breed, but she had enough experience with men of all stripes that she felt confident she could deal with Lucky Jack Burrell to her satisfaction. After all, he hadn't killed her yet.

  Sophia took another look around the cabin, while she assessed all the new factors involved in the hunt for Garvey's Gold. The cabin was modestly furnished, with an unusual stringed instrument on the bunk, long necked but with a round, flat base. She'd never had music lessons as the family's fortunes ebbed and flowed
, so she ignored it. The bunk did look larger than one lone privateer would need. Did he intend for her to sleep here? With him? If that were the case, he was in for a rude awakening. Or she'd have to make it clear if he forced himself on her, he wouldn't wake again. But she'd deal with that later. She picked up the book he'd tested her with, then tossed it on the bunk next to the instrument. For now Fanny Hill was abandoned because she knew how it ended, she'd read it years before on a foray to Mr. Deford's library looking for something to entertain her while he was off with his friends in town. It had been entertaining. And educational.

  Sophia made use of her hairbrushes and the captain's private facilities. Burrell had commanded Sophia to stay in his cabin and she gave said command all the consideration it deserved.

  Her captor eyed her darkly and came over to her when he saw her walking abovedecks.

  "I thought I told you to stay in my cabin. Maybe I should clap you in irons to keep you from wandering about!"

  "You could, but the air up here is fresher. I did not think you wanted me to have an unfortunate experience caused by the tossing of the ship," she said, wrinkling her nose for emphasis. "However, if you prefer I be sick all over your bunk, then there's nothing for it," she said with a sigh, holding out her wrists.

  Burrell scowled at her.

  "Stay out of the way of my men then. I have a ship to run, and your interference could cause trouble."

  "Of course," Sophia said as he walked away, but as she watched the men at their tasks it was the captain who caught her eye the most. He'd been a bad joke as a highwayman, but as the captain of a privateer it was clear he was in his element, the sea and the sky framing him like an oil painting, the seaman in his natural setting.

  The Jade was skimming over the water, making her voyage on the Primrose seem like a float in a rowboat by comparison. Sophia turned her face to the sun and closed her eyes, feeling the wind blowing across her. It almost felt like flying.

  "She's a beauty, ain't she?"

  Sophia turned to the sailor standing beside her. He wasn't much taller than she was, and part of his left ear was nothing but a scarred mass.

  "English musket," the sailor said when he saw her looking at his mangled ear. He gestured at it. "I heard the ball fly by and if felt like a hornet's nest exploded in my head. Didn't hear nothing out of that side for days, but we took the ship and I got silver as well as this souvenir."

  "Was that during the war, Mr...?"

  "Sorry, ma'am, my manners go begging. Rice, George Rice. I'm mate on the Jade."

  "A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Rice," Sophia said, offering him her hand and one of her best smiles. He turned three shades of red and lightly touched her hand, then jerked back like he'd been burned.

  Sophia not only knew to play the hand she was dealt, she was the mistress of turning events—and people—to her advantage. And the smile was genuine. Mr. Rice did not appear to be a threat to her, and in strange circumstances every friendly face was a potential ally.

  "We don't get many ladies aboard the Jade" Mr. Rice frowned. "Come to think on it, you're the first lady we have had aboard. But we will be in Fernandina soon, and you won't have to spend too much time here."

  "Oh, but I like this ship!" Sophia enthused. "It feels like we're flying over the waves! I have never experienced sailing like this!"

  Now Rice positively glowed, not from embarrassment, but from pride in his master's vessel.

  "Aye, the Jade is a treat. You won't find better sailing in these waters than with a schooner, miss. We can go places that tub you were on would never be able to navigate, with us skipping as lightly as a cat

  walking 'round a mud puddle."

  "Tell me more, Mr. Rice. Is this ship well protected against pir—"

  "Mr. Rice!" .

  The stern voice from the mainmast brought both of them looking round. Captain Burrell was standing there glaring at the two of them, and Sophia raised her eyebrows at his tone.

  "I am sure you have better things to do than to be flirting with this

  person."

  Rice looked like he was going to speak, but then just said, "Aye, Captain," and with a nod to Sophia left the two of them alone on deck.

  "Flirting, Captain? Is that how you describe a casual conversation between two adults?"

  Burrell came closer and taking her firmly by the arm, led her to the rail, away from the prying eyes and open ears of his crew.

  "Flirting, Miss Deford. No doubt it is as natural to you as breathing, but I will not have it aboard my ship!"

  "You made me come aboard the Jade. There is a solution to this problem, Captain. Place me ashore, in civilization, and I will find another guide to locate Garvey's Gold."

  Jack Burrell shook his head and looked down at her.

  "No. Erasmus Tanner made you my responsibility, and unpleasant as it is, I owe him this debt. But that doesn't mean you can be up to your usual tricks with my men, Miss Deford."

  "Tricks? The only trick I have ever involved you in was taking advantage of your gullibility. And you can hardly blame me for your misadventures."

  She knew it wasn't wise to bait him, but something about Captain Jack Burrell brought out the worst in her. Ah well, the day was lengthening and she was still alive. That bode well. On the other hand...

  "My things are in your cabin, Captain. What is your intention regarding sleeping arrangements?"

  He looked at her a moment, and then that expressive mouth curled up at the corners.

  "Are you anxious to share my bunk, sweetheart?"

  "Not for all of your share of Garvey's Gold, Captain. But I am curious as to how you will house me aboard your ship."

  "I cannot have you wandering about a ship full of sailors. For your own safety and my peace of mind you will stay in my cabin, Miss Deford, and we will work out the details later."

  "Are you giving your cabin to me, Captain?"

  "No. As my...guest...I insist you stay close at hand aboard my ship. And as we discussed earlier, if we are going to be traveling about Florida hunting fairy gold, then we will of necessity be forced to spend many nights together." He smiled that cold smile again. "Any second thoughts on accepting my offer to buy the map?"

  "Fifty thousand pounds, Captain. Remember that number. If you will keep your hands to yourself, I can suffer through more time spent in your company to get the prize at the end."

  "Of course. That is the only answer I should have expected from you."

  "We could play a hand of cards and wager over who sleeps in the bunk," Sophia said.

  "Hardly necessary, since I already know I'm sleeping in my bunk. Not to mention I suspect you'd cheat. The only thing left to determine is where you shall sleep. That should give you something to think about between now and nightfall."

  Sophia merely raised a brow at this veiled threat and turned to the bow of the ship, where the coast of Florida was a smudge on the horizon. The wind off the water whipped her hair around her face and she was glad she'd left her bonnet below, though she knew she'd pay for it later with reddened cheeks and nose. As fair as she was it only took a small amount of sun to burn her, and she'd heeded the warnings of other travelers from the Indies about the harshness of the tropics.

  Nonetheless, there was something wonderfully freeing about feeling all of nature at work, the sun, the wind, the salt spray off the ocean and the calls of the frigate birds and seagulls as they neared their destination.

  "I suggest you find yourself a spot out of the way of the men and allow me to get back to running my ship," Captain Burrell said, pulling her out of her musings.

  Sophia did as instructed, watching the men working, and after a while fetched her sewing from the captain's cabin to keep her occupied while they sailed closer to Florida. The sun dipped lower in the west and it was clear as the smells of food cooking drifted up from the galley they'd be aboard ship this evening.

  "Miss Deford? Ma'am?"

  Sophia turned around to see a youngster behind her, a boy
not yet in his teens with hair flaming like the sunset when he snatched off his cap.

  "I'm Mick, the ship's boy, ma'am, and Captain Burrell sent me over to tell you it is almost suppertime, and would you please dine with him in his cabin?"

  Sophia cocked her head to the side and smiled back at the reed-thin boy, all browned arms and legs and a gap-toothed grin.

  "Was that what Captain Burrell said? He invited me to dine with him and said 'please'?"

  The boy blushed and looked at his bare feet, then back at her.

  "No, miss, that ain't what he said, but my ma would snatch me bald if I spoke rude to a lady."

  "You have family, Mick?"

  "Yes'm. There are a bunch of us back in Savannah, and Ma figured I could earn my way at sea. And I do." He pulled himself up proudly. "Part of my share goes home to help out there."

  "Ah, I do understand," Sophia said, and she was speaking the truth. She'd helped her family's finances by playing cards and participating in wagers at an early age, and understood what it meant to young pride to be a contributing member of the household.

  "Very well, then, Mick. Please tell Captain Burrell I will join him shortly." She looked down at her dress. "Since we're dining in his cabin I do not suppose I have to change for supper."

  "Why would you want to change, miss? That dress looks just fine to me," Mick said, puzzled. "My sister Nell's a seamstress and your dress is just as good as what she sews."

  "No doubt that is true, Mick, and I'm foolish to worry about what I am wearing."

  "Yes, miss," Mick said. "I'll see you later then," and with a nod of his head he was off, bare feet pattering across the deck.

  "Flirting again, Miss Deford?"

  Honestly, that man walked like a cat. Of course, he was barefoot also, and it made it easier to sneak up on her. She tried not to look at those feet. Most of the sailors aboard the Primrose had foregone shoes, but there was something disturbing about seeing Lucky Jack Burrell's bare parts. Every time she did, it reminded her of that cave in England.