Chance the Winds of Fortune

by Laurie McBain

  Their rather strained heart-to-heart talk had taken place shortly after she had recovered enough to ask to be allowed on deck. Dante still remembered now her almost pathetic attempt to maintain her dignity while standing before him in his shirt. It had been quite a remarkable feat. And despite the distraction of the hardening nipples of her small breasts against the soft silk of his shirt, he had refused to be swayed from his course of action. Too much was at stake to make a mistake now.

  “If you value that pale-skinned derriere of yours, then I’d not speak a word about that map you so fortuitously discovered,” he had warned her, smiling inwardly at that look of innocent surprise that had crossed her delicate-featured face. “If you intend to keep in my men’s good graces, then I’d say naught of it, my dear. You see,” he had explained, “your presence on board the Sea Dragon has been impossible to keep a secret, and quite naturally, my men have been curious about my guest. And thanks to the good offices of one Houston Kirby, your sad little tale has been regaled to the crew, until I daresay there has not been a dry eye on deck. Of course, sailors do love a good yarn. So, for your own protection, my dear,” he’d advised, “I would continue to pretend to be the innocent they think you are.”

  “I could not care less about this treasure map you insist upon speaking of,” she had reiterated. “I do not know who you think I am pretending to be, but I shall tell you who I really am, for you seem to have a very short memory. I am Lady Rhea Claire Dominick. I am the daughter of the Duke and Duchess of Camareigh, and I was kidnapped from my home. All I am concerned with, Captain,” she had informed him almost contemptuously, although tears were not far off, “is finding my way back home. That is all I desire.”

  “Well put, but it has little to do with the rather delicate situation you now find yourself in on board the Sea Dragon. However, your actions on board my ship may well determine whether or not you ever see your home again,” he had hinted, his voice intentionally threatening.

  Then, when he saw the fearful consternation gathering in her eyes, he had elaborated further. “Whomever, or whatever you might be, you will only harm yourself by speaking of matters which do not concern you. You might very well find yourself marooned on some desert isle, and you would never find your way home.”

  He remembered feeling a slight twinge of guilt at the terrified expression that had settled over her face at his words, but still he had continued relentlessly.

  “Some people say, and perhaps with good reason, that there is little difference between privateering and piracy. In fact, on the high seas, His Majesty’s Navy too often refuses to recognize any difference between privateer and pirate. You’ve not met Longacres yet; he is the Sea Dragon’s coxswain and a reformed pirate, if that is indeed possible. You really must have a word with him, for although he seems quite civilized at times, he is certainly not a man that I would care to double-cross, for he remembers only too well the feel of a cutlass in his hand.” With these words, Dante had driven home his point, for the girl’s face had blanched alarmingly. “Think of this conversation as a friendly warning, for I truly do have your best interests at heart.”

  “I do not wish to cause trouble for anyone. All I want is to go home,” she had whispered, her violet eyes downcast, her narrow shoulders slumped in defeat. A less determined man would surely have been touched by her obvious distress, Dante had thought, turning his back on her thin figure.

  That had been over a week ago. And now as Dante’s eyes strayed upward toward the sun-bleached sails billowing in the freshening breeze, he wondered if the Sea Dragon would continue to make good speed toward the Indies. Her yards were braced up and her sheets had been eased out to meet the thrust of a quartering wind blowing well abaft the beam. If all went well, then they should be sighting land by eventide on the morrow.

  As Dante’s gaze fell on the girl, he wondered how she would react when she heard that stirring cry from aloft that land had been sighted off to starboard, then heard the gull’s cry mocking her as it soared high above the swaying masts, its outspread wings a flash of gray as it glided closer with the downdraft, only to fly away free and leave her behind.

  What her thoughts were at this moment, he could not know, for her golden head was bent as she attempted to tie a complicated spritsail sheet knot with the help of young Conny. She was unpredictable, this woman-child, for one moment she would be laughing and playing riddle games in childish abandon with the boy; then, in the very next breath, she would be smiling with a captivating seductiveness into Alastair’s boyish face, or meeting the dark eyes of Fitzsimmons, who was acting to the hilt the charming Irish rogue.

  There was one thing, however, of which Dante was certain: that she would try to escape him once they had docked in Antigua. It would be her only chance to gain her freedom, and she knew it. She also knew that he had no intention of allowing her to succeed. It mattered not whether she was a hireling of Bertie Mackay’s, or a conniving wench off the streets who merely wished to better her station by becoming the mistress of a marquis, she would not be leaving the Sea Dragon when she docked in St. John’s Harbour. Whatever her purpose for being on board ship, she would never have the opportunity to divulge what she had intentionally or inadvertently seen while on board the Sea Dragon or at least not until it was too late to cause harm.

  Of course, it would be a far more dangerous situation all around if she were indeed the daughter of Lucien Dominick, Duke of Camareigh. He could well imagine her angry recitation of the experiences she’d had while on board his ship. She would not spare the Sea Dragon’s captain when telling her tale to sympathetic listeners. It would complicate matters no end to have His Majesty’s Navy in hot pursuit with a warrant for his arrest, and the firepower to back it up should he be reluctant to comply with their wishes. Nor would it help matters to have a vengeful father, who also happened to be an all-powerful duke, out for his blood. He wanted no enemy of that ilk shadowing his every step.

  That possibility seemed unlikely, though, for only a madman would have dared to kidnap a duke’s daughter, and especially that particular duke’s daughter. A sudden thought struck Dante and a slight smile curved his mouth as his eyes lingered on the girl’s fair head. He noticed how her long braid gleamed like a shiny golden sovereign.

  When Dante laughed softly, Kirby caught his captain’s expression and drew a deep sigh of relief, for he’d been having restless nights of late spent worrying about his master. Only once before had he seen the captain in so dangerous a mood, and then it had nearly ended in tragedy. And now, what with worrying over the captain and what he might end up doing, as well as being concerned over the intricate stratagems for the salvaging of that Spanish galleon—not to mention his fears about the prospect of returning to Merdraco—he felt at times as if his short legs were carrying the weight of the world.

  But ultimately, ’twould be the worsening situation with the girl that buckled his legs and brought Houston Kirby to his knees, he fretted, for the uneasy relationship between his captain and the young lady was growing into something he didn’t like the look of at all. And it had him grievously worried, that it did. So he was pleasantly surprised to find the captain smiling as he watched the girl.

  “Aye, she is a fine young thing, that she is,” Kirby commented with an almost paternal glint in his eyes. After all, hadn’t his cures and constant attention set her back on her feet and put that rosy glow in her cheeks? “Ah, but she is a true beauty, Cap’n. And so gentle, she is, with never a sharp word for any of the crew,” Kirby said, ignoring his captain’s snort of derision, for he knew only too well the strained silence that often existed between the captain and the girl. “Raised proper, she was. Reckon her folks, the duke and duchess, be mighty grieved to have her missing. Brokenhearted they must be wondering what has happened to their daughter,” Kirby continued sadly, then sniffed for good measure as he eyed the captain.

  “My sentiments exactly, Kirby,” Dante remarked agr
eeably. But the little steward was not deceived, and the mocking glint in the pale gray eyes was causing him considerable concern.

  “I have just been speculating on what her worth might be to the Duke of Camareigh,” Dante said. “For if she is indeed who she claims so vehemently to be, then he would most likely pay quite handsomely to have his daughter returned. If our search for sunken Spanish gold comes to naught,” Dante said, his eyes never leaving the girl, “we just might be able to make up the difference by ransoming our golden-haired prize back to the duke.”

  “M’lord!” squeaked Kirby with horrified dismay, his shocked disapproval leaving him almost but not quite speechless. “To even be thinkin’ such a thing, well…well, I’m ashamed fer the first time in me life to be associated with the name of Leighton, that I am,” Kirby concluded.

  Dante glanced down at the little steward. He recognized that woebegone expression too well to be completely taken in by it, but still he found himself saying, “’Twas just idle speculation. Besides, I intend to return to England, which might be difficult if there were a price on my head. However, I think it unlikely that the temptation to ransom her off will ever arise. After all, who the devil would pay a fortune for this impudent pullet? The only title she has ever come close to is on the binding of a book, and since I doubt whether she can read or write, I’m sure that’s as far as she got.” Dante’s eyes narrowed into slits as he watched Alastair’s sun-streaked curls come close to touching the girl’s golden head as he leaned closer, his hands guiding hers as she tied the strands of rope into a secure knot.

  “Ah, Cap’n. Saddens me, it does, to hear ye speakin’ so of the young lady. Reckon ’twon’t be a day too soon when we reach Antigua and turn Lady Rhea Claire over to the authorities in St. John’s. Almost regret now us ever bringin’ her down to the Indies. Of course, we didn’t have much choice. Figure she would’ve been dead by now if we hadn’t taken her with us. Knew at the time, I did, that I didn’t care a’tall fer the looks of them two who stopped me on the docks that day. Fitzsimmons knew well the name of that dog Daniel Lewis. Crossing paths with him usually means a brawl, and most likely a knife in the back. Aye, Fitzsimmons says ye best steer clear of that cullion. And that cap’n of his weren’t much better. The name of Cap’n Benjamin Haskell seems to be more well known in taverns than anywhere else. He was a mean ’un when he was drinkin’ hard, which was about all he’d do once he dropped anchor. Poor wee thing, Lady Rhea Claire, gettin’ caught up between the two of them scoundrels. Aye, hate to even think about what might have happened to her if she hadn’t been forced into climbing aboard the Sea Dragon. ’Twas one of them chance things,” he said, awed by the fateful encounters that seemed to govern people’s lives.

  “I never knew you were so gullible, Kirby. I’m quite surprised you have managed to keep a step ahead of some enterprising female’s ensnarement for so many years,” Dante remarked. “Did it never occur to you that the whole affair might be planned? Perhaps you were singled out for your softhearted nature to escort the girl on board the Sea Dragon. And while you were seeing to her needs, preparing some of that famous broth of yours, she would be rifling my cabin. But, unbeknownst to Bertie Mackay, you were busy getting in stores for the Sea Dragon’s voyage, which was to be the following day, and not at the end of the week, as most of Charles Town assumed. But that having failed, they staged a commotion on the docks, conveniently close to where the Sea Dragon’s watch was standing duty. And while he was distracted, our little innocent slipped aboard and found the map,” Dante concluded grimly. Whether or not this was idle speculation, or a theory he truly believed, only he knew for certain.

  Kirby, however, was not so easily swayed toward believing the worst of Rhea Claire Dominick. “Don’t figure, Cap’n. Seems to me Mackay was takin’ a mighty big chance that the girl could find the map and get off the ship without bein’ caught. Reckon to me she would’ve stumbled across the captain of the Sea Dragon himself, seein’ how he’d been aboard most of the day. The girl might as well have been on board an East Indiaman laden with silk and ivory off Madagascar fer all the good it would’ve done Mackay.”

  “There was little chance involved, Kirby,” Dante responded, unimpressed by his steward’s thoughts on the matter. “Have you forgotten that Mackay has had me followed for months? He knew exactly when I left the Sea Dragon, and where I ate my dinner, and when I retired for the evening. He even may have seen Helene entering my home earlier in the evening and mistakenly thought I would be kept occupied until late the following morning. He had not calculated on my lack of interest in the lady’s charms, nor that I would knock out his man who’d been following me. As far as Mackay was concerned, there was little risk in the venture.”

  Kirby sighed with exasperation at his captain’s hardheadedness. “Then why not send this Daniel Lewis and his friend on board then?”

  “Because I cannot quite see this Lewis engaging the sympathies of the crew, should he have been caught by someone. The girl, on the other hand, would have succeeded quite admirably, I am sure. After all, my crew is certainly proof of that,” Dante said with a contemptuous glance at the grinning men gathered around the girl. “Who knows what information she could have wheedled out of them with those tearful violet eyes?”

  The little steward looked heavenward and thoughtfully rubbed his bristly chin. “Could swear I remember ye sayin’ ye just might believe the girl’s story about not knowin’ about the map. Reckon nobody in his right mind would be thinkin’ the girl anything but a gentle-born lady,” Kirby said with irritating logic.

  Dante shrugged, seemingly unconvinced. “We may very well have on board one of this century’s finest actresses.”

  “Ah, Cap’n,” Kirby repeated, sighing in disappointment this time. “If only ye would believe the girl, ’twould make life so much easier fer all of us, and not while just on this voyage. If I hadn’t become acquainted with the young lady, then just maybe I might have been inclined to believe your story about her workin’ fer Bertie Mackay,” Kirby allowed. But in his next breath he quickly disabused his captain of the possibility that they were in agreement about her motives for being on board the Sea Dragon. “However, seein’ how I have come to know the Lady Rhea Claire, I happen to believe every word she’s spoken. How could ye not believe such a sweet young thing? Of course,” the little steward added with a considering look at his captain, “if a man was tryin’ hard enough he could be gettin’ himself to believe anything, no matter how crazy ’twas!”

  “Ah, Kirby,” Dante mocked. “You are becoming soft in your old age. I never thought to see the day when a frilly petticoat would blind you to the truth. But whatever it might be, Lady Rhea Claire Dominick does not disembark in Antigua. She will continue to sail with us,” the captain of the Sea Dragon said, his tone brooking no argument.

  Apparently, Kirby was deaf to the implied warning. “Truth, is it, we be speakin’ of now?” he questioned with an exaggerated look of incredulity on his face. “’Tis yourself who’s bein’ hoodwinked, and by your own unsatisfied lusts. Aye, and ye can be knockin’ me to the deck fer sayin’ it, but I’m goin’ to anyway,” said the bowlegged little steward, standing his ground despite the blackening expression on his captain’s face.

  “Don’t think I haven’t seen the way ye look at the girl. I’m not blind to that, I’m not. Ye can’t take your eyes from her. Ye’re like some rutting stag sniffing at her skirts. And don’t think I haven’t seen the way ye glare at young Mr. Marlowe when ye think he’s been trespassin’ on what ye consider to be your property.

  “Well, she ain’t yours, Cap’n,” Kirby continued, “to be doin’ with as ye please. She be an innocent young girl, m’lord. She isn’t like young madam in Charles Town, nor like any of t’other women ye’ve known and taken to mistress over the years. ’Twouldn’t be right to be seducin’ young Lady Rhea Claire, m’lord. No, sir, ’twouldn’t be right a’tall, and ye’d be seein’ that yourself if
ye was thinkin’ with your brain instead of that hardening bulge in your breeches,” Kirby said bluntly.

  The cold gleam in Dante’s eyes would have caused consternation among even the bravest of men, but Kirby squared his shoulders and expanded his chest as he drew breath for further argument.

  “My, my,” Dante murmured softly, “I had no idea that you were my conscience as well as my steward. I see I shall have to start paying you double wages.”

  Kirby snorted. “Aye, mock me, Cap’n, but I’ve been doin’ a powerful lot of thinkin’ about this, and I reckon havin’ me standin’ here speakin’ the truth, and aye, actin’ yer conscience, makes ye a mite uncomfortable. Well, ’tis about time someone stood up t’ye, and I reckon ’tis gotta be me. Ye might have fooled t’others, but not me, m’lord, not me. I’m well aware of the blackness that has been creepin’ into your heart. Ye’ve lived by your own rules fer far too long. Ye don’t answer to no man alive, only yourself. But if ye go through with what ye been plannin’ and broodin’ on, then ye’ll have to be facin’ that man ye’ve become, and I don’t think ye’ll be likin’ what ye see,” Kirby predicted, his lower jaw stuck out pugnaciously as he met his captain’s eyes. Still, he was reminded too much for comfort of the old marquis, who’d been famous in his day for his towering rages.

  “Now, I’m not completely blamin’ ye, m’lord, fer most of what’s happened. Ye had little choice in what your future held all them years ago. Things could be worse than they are, I admit that, and ye’ve never brought shame to the name of Leighton. The old marquis would’ve been proud of ye. But the sad truth of the matter is that ye’re not the same Dante Leighton who was the young master of Merdraco. Ye’ve been changed, m’lord, by the course your destiny’s taken over the years. Ye be an entirely different sort of man than that boy was and would have been, if he’d been left in peace to grow into manhood at Merdraco, surrounded by his loved ones and all that was rightfully his.