"You will have to excuse me, Captain Aury. As a newly married man, I cannot take on additional duties and neglect my bride."
This last was said with enough feeling while gazing at Sophia that the ladies at the table sighed for the sentimentality, and Sophia knew a cue when she heard one.
"Oh, my goodness, Captain Aury," she said, looking at him from beneath modestly lowered eyelashes, "Captain Burrell has promised to show me more of this amazing place. Why, I have never seen anything like Florida! Surely you would not disturb us on our marriage trip?"
Aury gave Jack a hard look, but then resigned himself with a Gallic shrug.
"What can I say, madame? I am, after all, a Frenchman, so of course I understand why your husband would wish to spend his days with his charming bride."
"Our dear friend Captain Roberts has offered us the use of his home in St. Augustine, and as Mrs. Banks was kind enough to point out, the dressmakers there are worth a visit," Sophia said demurely.
"You don't want to try and stop a lady from obtaining new frocks, Captain Aury. You will wish you were facing navy frigates instead!" Jack said, giving Aury a wink in manly understanding.
The remainder of the dinner passed without incident. The men and women gathered in the parlor afterward where Jack agreed to play the pianoforte. Much to Sophia's surprise, she discovered her husband also had a pleasing tenor singing voice. He kept to ballads and light airs, and Sophia was startled to see a hardened pirate or two snuffling into a handkerchief, Mrs. Banks's friend nearly putting out an eye with his hook as he surreptitiously wiped away a tear.
"I did not know you played," she said to Jack he gathered the music together when the guests rose to make their goodnights to their host.
"My mother enjoyed musical evenings at home with the family and insisted we all learn, including the boys. We would gather around the pianoforte to sing as she played, and it made for an enjoyable evening. Until my voice started to crack. Then there was no end to the teasing from my sisters," he said with a grin.
"That sounds lovely, Jack. An evening with family, singing."
"It was nothing special." Jack shrugged.
No drunks retching in the potted palms, no demi-reps tossing their garters to the gentlemen, no smell of fear-sweat from men gambling their lives away.
"No, I imagine it was all a perfectly ordinary family gathering. And now it is time for us to return to your ship, is it not?"
They made their good-byes to their host and went out into the warm air. Jack had not hired a boy to go ahead of them with a torch, so Sophia clung to his arm and stepped carefully around the piles of refuse in the streets. As they neared a darkened doorway just a few streets from the harbor, Jack stopped and leaned down, his arms going around her and his mouth nuzzling beneath her ear. She was about to say something when she felt the whisper of his voice against her neck.
"There are two men up ahead. When I give you the signal, drop my arm and run for the ship."
"But Jack—"
"Don't argue," Jack said, and kissed her for verisimilitude. She put her arms around him but saw his eyes were wide open as he scanned the street. Jack pulled back, looked down into her eyes, kissed her lightly on the lips and then said, "Walk forward, but when I give you
the signal, run."
Sophia adjusted her shawl and Jack put his hand at the small of her back and continued walking, looking as carefree as a man on his wedding journey.
As they approached the trap the two men swaggered out, and the one in front said, "Fine night for a walk, Lucky Jack. If you wouldn't mind steppin' into my place here, we have some business to take care of."
"I don't do business in alleys at night," Jack drawled. "At least not with someone as ugly as you. Tell your employer to contact me in the morning."
"How do you know I'm not workin' for myself?"
"Because I know you, Simon Wesley. You haven't the brains or the imagination to come after me on your own, Weasel."
In the faint moonlight Sophia saw the man frown at the insult, but instead of rushing them he gave his partner a hand signal. The two toughs moved apart, one moving closer to Sophia, but he stopped when Weasel held up his hand.
"Now, we don't want no trouble with you, Captain. All we want is what Erasmus Tanner gave you."
Sophia gave a small start, but Jack only said, "The only thing Erasmus Tanner ever gave me was aggravation, Weasel. I have nothing for you from him."
"'s not what I hear, Captain, and if you don't give it up, then my orders are to take the lady with me. Whether you're alive or not when we take her is up to you."
"Now, Sophia," Jack barked, but she ignored him, instead watching Weasel's partner, who was inching toward her.
"Oh, please, sir, do not come any closer," Sophia said in a small voice.
The miscreant gave her an ugly grin and kept advancing on her.
So she shot him.
In the haze of pistol smoke and screaming from the ground, Sophia scrambled out of the way as Jack, recovering more quickly than Weasel Wesley, rushed his man. Wesley was smaller, but fast, and when he saw Jack coming after him with a knife he took one look at his companion on the ground, then turned and ran.
Jack turned instead to the man on the ground clutching his bleeding foot and moaning. Sophia went toward him to see about his punctured foot, but the man scrambled backward on his butt.
"Keep her away from me! That crazy bitch tried to kill me!"
"Oh, please. If I was trying to kill you, you would be dead."
Jack grabbed his pistol out of Sophia's hand and shoved it back in his coat pocket, then took the cutthroat by the shirt and hauled him up, heedless of the yelp of pain when he put weight on his injured foot.
"Who sent you tonight?"
"I dunno!" Their assailant was all but sobbing now in pain and fear. "Weasel came and got me and said there was a job to do, that's all I know! I dunno who he talked to, honest, mister!"
Jack let him go and the man fell to the ground again, clutching his foot and darting his wild-eyed look between Sophia and Jack.
"Please, mister, you gotta believe me!"
Jack said, "When you see your friend Weasel again, you tell him to stay away from me and not to take any jobs that put him within a mile of where I'm at. You got that?"
"Yessir," the man whimpered, pulling himself up and hobbling off into the dark.
Jack watched him go and then turned back to Sophia.
"That was interesting," Sophia said. She was hiding her shaking hands in her shawl, but felt confident her face showed none of her fear.
"Interesting?" Jack said softly, stepping toward her. "You lifted my pistol from my pocket and put my life at risk and you term the evening interesting? You have a talent for understatement, madam."
"I was fairly certain wounding that man in the foot would stop him," Sophia said, stepping back. "And I had every confidence you would take care of that other person. I knew you kept a knife in your boot."
Jack was still advancing on her, and it wasn't until she hit the stone wall behind her and could retreat no farther that she realized just how angry Lucky Jack Burrell was.
"Interesting," he said again. "A new way to describe being attacked on the street. I would call your response to tonight's events reckless and harebrained, but I would not term it interesting."
Sophia shivered, which was odd because the night was quite warm. But she straightened up and looked her supposed husband in the eye.
"I did what needed to be done, Jack. Unarmed, I am defenseless. And the element of surprise is one of the few weapons I have in my arsenal."
"I know that, madam, to my own regret! But I would never call you defenseless." He put his hand alongside her head against the wall and
leaned in, his eyes inches from hers.
"You are about as defenseless as an adder, Mrs. Burrell!"
"Do not call me that!"
"Why not?" he snapped back. "It is who you are now! I deserve some recomp
ense for this evening's aggravation, and if I am going to be saddled with a wife, I might as well get something out of it!"
He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her up against him, his mouth swooping down on hers, hot and hard.
Sophia pushed at his shoulders, but it was no use, he had her pinned against the wall, trapped there with his body. She panicked and began to struggle in earnest, and he jerked his head back, his eyes hooded and faintly gleaming in the dark.
"Little cat..." he whispered. "Sheathe your claws, I won't harm you."
Then his mouth was back on hers, gentle this time, asking instead of taking, and Sophia stopped her struggles as her body, if not her mind, registered the new sensations drifting through her.
Jack's mouth was firm on hers, but not forceful. He took his time, coaxing her response, his lips just skimming the corner of her mouth, then across to the other side, while his hands glided over her, down her arms to her waist, his fingers holding her delicately, but she could feel the strength in those fingers and knew if she struggled there would be no escape. His tongue was at the seam of her lips and she gasped, an act giving him access to the inside of her mouth. The intrusion into her senses and her body continued even as her mind registered the feel of him, so hard against her, the taste of him so sweet as he explored her mouth, the small groan that came from the back of his throat, in complement to her own gasp.
Everything in her tightened like a string being pulled toward Jack Burrell. The chink of a bottle rolling away from where her foot brushed it brought her back to the realization she was standing in an alley, kissing a man she suspected would turn on her as quickly as she would turn on him for fifty thousand pounds. It was a complication she didn't need.
This time when she pushed at his shoulders there was a moment's resistance, but then he pulled back and looked at her.
"We are vulnerable here on the street, Jack. Those men may return."
He only stared down at her, and in the faint light she could see the hard lines of his face.
"Practical, as always, Mrs. Burrell."
He stepped away from her and Sophia adjusted her shawl around her shoulders again, more to give her shaking hands something to do.
"Sophia—"
She looked up to find Jack watching her intently, his glance dropping down to her hands, which she clasped together in front of her.
He opened his mouth, but then closed it, his lips a thin line, and gave her his arm.
Sophia took it, the muscles like steel line beneath his coat.
They returned to the Jade unmolested and Sophia hurried down to the cabin while Jack talked with the men on watch. Once inside she hurried through her washing and climbed into her hammock, making sure her nightrail was pulled down to her ankles and her form securely cocooned in the covers and netting. When the door creaked open her eyes were closed as she pretended to sleep, but she slitted one eye open to follow Jack's movements.
He stripped the bedding off the bunk and went back to the door where a light gleamed from the passageway.
"I know you are only pretending to sleep, Sophia. I will be up on deck tonight. It's safer if I sleep up there."
Sophia opened her eyes and turned her head toward him. "Safer for the ship?"
"That, too."
"Jack—"
"Yes?" He turned back toward her.
"If you are sleeping on deck, may I have your bunk?"
The sound of the door reverberating in its frame lingered after his exit from the cabin.
CHAPTER 10There were no further attacks, and while Jack Burrell's bunk was more comfortable than the hammock, Sophia nonetheless spent an uncomfortable night there, tossing and turning.
Parts of her were coming alive, needs she had been able to ignore during the years living soberly in Portsmouth. Certainly there were men who courted the attractive young "widow" with the busy bookstore. They were pleasant enough, but none stirred her blood. It disturbed her that the man who made her feel like every sense was alive was the man she had already robbed once, and likely would do worse to before they were done.
Life was simpler without these kinds of complications. A hand of cards, knowing to the last pasteboard what had already been played and what remained in the deck, these were skills she could count on. Skills that had brought her to the point where her life's dreams of gold and security might be realized with the help of Lucky Jack Burrell.
That thought was sobering enough to allow her to tamp down those other feelings, those messy urges bringing trouble and heartache. She already knew that. If there was one thing Sophia had learned well over the years, it's that life gives you lessons and only a fool comes away from them without knowing how to be smarter, quicker, stronger. Games of the heart were for soft people who could afford such indulgences.
Jack hadn't returned to the cabin, so Sophia dressed quickly and went up on deck to see about breakfast and what Jack's plans were.
He was absent when she blinked her way into the bright sunshine, a breeze off the water offering some relief from what she could tell would be another scorching day. Mick met her with a covered tray and offered to take it to the cabin, but she let him set it on a barrel instead and she stood to eat, watching the activity around her.
When Mick returned from the galley with her coffee, she asked about Captain Burrell.
"He's ashore, ma'am, but he said he would be back for luncheon and asked that you work on my lessons with me. He also said to tell you..." Mick frowned, trying to remember his captain's words, "...to be prepared to meet with him this afternoon to discuss travel."
"Thank you, Mick. Do you know if I have time to send clothes into town to be laundered while we are in port?"
"I'll make sure they get ashore and back to us before we leave," Mick promised.
"There is a laundress in town Mrs. Banks recommended to me last night, Mick. I would like to take my clothes to her myself."
"I don't know the captain would like that, Mrs. Burrell. He don't want me wandering around in strange ports without one of the crew along."
"I would be with you, Mick, and you would be accompanying me, and we could do your lessons later."
The way the boy's face lit up gave her a moment's pang of guilt, but she was an expert at ignoring guilt, and smiled brightly at him.
"Come to the cabin and we will bundle things up. Perhaps you also know a shop in town where they sell candy? I have a craving for peppermints."
At that, Mick's fate was sealed, and he hurried down with her to get her clothes together for the laundress.
When they stepped off the gangway a black woman with a basket of fruit strolled over.
"Fresh melon for de lovely lady?"
"Thank you, but we have melon aboard ship." Sophia smiled at her.
"Oh but I got special melon, lady, one just for you."
Sophia looked into the black eyes watching her and said, "Very well, show me your wares."
The woman passed a luscious fruit to Sophia who turned it over in her hands and brought it up to her nose to sniff the fresh fragrance.
"Here, you try a slice, lady," the vendor said, cutting off a generous wedge for Mick and a smaller one for Sophia.
The melon was fresh and sweet, but Sophia gave the rest to Mick
after one bite.
"I am afraid I am not in the mood for melon today, but here is a coin for your trouble," she said, pressing some silver into the woman's hand.
The melon vendor strolled on, and Mick chatted about the penned panther he'd seen in town on his last trip. Sophia said nothing, the note the woman passed her in exchange for the coin buried in the bottom of her reticule.
They found the laundress, who assured Sophia the clothes would be returned to her at the ship on the morrow. Sophia excused herself to go out back of the house to the privy, ducking out of sight of Mick to read the note.
When Jack Burrell returned to the Jade he found Sophia and Mick working on geometry proofs, the smell of peppermint crisp
in the air.
Jack agreed to Sophia's suggestion of lunch abovedecks to take advantage of the breeze, and Mick and one of the sailors brought them red snapper, flatbreads, sliced ham, and fresh melons.
"I thought you told the melon vendor you didn't like 'em?" Mick said when Sophia took a slice.
Jack stopped reaching for the ham across from him. "What melon vendor?"
Mick was bright red, and Sophia tried to cover for him. "I asked Mick to take me ashore so I could leave clothes with the laundress, Captain Burrell. When we left the ship a woman tried to sell me melons. But it is not Mick's fault. I insisted we go ashore."
Jack wasn't looking at her, but at Mick. "Mick?"
"You told me not to go ashore without one of the other crew, Captain. I disobeyed orders."
"Go below, mister. You are confined to quarters for two days. Your meals will be brought to you."
"Aye, Captain," the miserable boy said, turning to leave.
"But Jack—"
"Be still, madam," his voice cracked out like a whip. He rose from their table, dropping his linen and looking down at her in disdain. "Your selfishness in insisting you go ashore contributed to Mick's misdeed, but it was his choice, and his punishment is earned."
He left her and Sophia looked down at her plate, those guilty feelings she suppressed so well swimming to the surface. The situation was worse than Jack Burrell suspected, but there was nothing she could do about that now. Embroiling Mick in her subterfuge had been wrong
of her, and she had to accept it.
Sophia herself carried the dishes back down to the galley where cook silently took them from her. There were no secrets aboard ship, and word of Mick's confinement spread quickly. Sophia retreated to Jack's cabin, telling herself if Mick couldn't be up above enjoying the
fresh air, it wasn't right for her to be there either.
* * *
Jack found Sophia sitting on his bunk, head bent over the mending. She looked properly chastened and he hoped she'd learned her lesson. He knew Mick, and was confident the boy wouldn't make the same error twice, but Sophia Burrell was still an unknown quantity, in too many ways.
The Bride and the Buccaneer Page 10