by C. K. Brooke
Before they could ask questions, Abi pushed past them and embarked the ship. Its tired familiarity failed to inspire her, she couldn’t help but notice. Nothing about it had changed. And yet, everything felt so different.
She hurried down to the cabin deck and around the corner to find her father’s closed door. It was far simpler, dented and splintered in more places than not, with no ornate carvings like the captain’s door aboard The Indomitable. She gave it a rushed rap.
No one answered.
“Papa, it’s me. Open up!” She pounded the door. “I must speak with you! It’s important.”
Footfalls sounded in the room. She stepped back as the door bowed open. Her father stood, fully dressed but for a hat, his ginger hair scraggly and in need of a comb. “Abi? How did you—?”
She ducked beneath his arm and entered his quarters.
“Where’s Jim?” growled her father.
“I know not.” Abi hoped her blush wasn’t visible in the poorly-lit room. Only, it was strange to hear her father speak of the man to whom she had just made love.
“How’d you get away this time?” He scrutinized her.
“By boat,” she answered succinctly. “Listen, we need to talk.”
“That bulked-up sonofabitch thinks he can steal my daughter, twice?” he snarled. Abi became rather anxious that he might strike something. “Going to find him, we are. And when we do, he’ll be a dead man, mark me.”
“Papa…”
He dropped his voice, looking alarmingly unsettled. “He didn’t…None of his men…hurt you, did they?”
She shook her head.
“What I mean is, were you defiled?”
Searing flames licked the sides of Abi’s face. “Dickens, no,” she hissed. “Don’t be vile.”
He didn’t seem entirely convinced. “You’re sure?” His features hardened. “Because if that cad Morrow laid so much as a finger on you, I will tear his hide apart, limb by limb, and gouge the eyes out of that big, bald skull!”
“Papa, please.” She placed a hand on his shoulder. “They wanted information. They weren’t about to harm me.”
Captain Clear’s breathing was heavy. “What did you tell them?”
“N-nothing.”
“Abigail.”
“Nothing, sir.”
“You stammered.”
Abi held firm. “I did not. Listen! I have information on them. For you.”
That finally got his attention. “What is it, then?” he asked warily.
Abi made a show of closing the cabin door. Turning back to him, she tamed her voice to a conspiratorial murmur. “What we’ve got buried here, on the island?” She made a scoffing sound. “Pitiful.”
“Come again?”
“Our loot here is downright laughable compared to what else Jim’s got. I know for a fact.”
Her father’s ginger eyebrows came together.
“A whole trove—the king of troves—just sitting there, unprotected! I managed to find out roughly where it is.” Her heart clunked against her ribs as she awaited his reaction.
“Well?” Captain Clear demanded at last. “And where is it?”
“Off the Bay of Biscay.”
“Europe?” He scowled. “That’s a ways off.”
“But it’s worth it,” Abi insisted, gripping his arm. “There is more gold—far more—than can even fit in all the trunks we’ve got!”
“That much, eh?”
“Why, you won’t even care about the measly plunder here on Monhegan, once you see what lies beneath the water.”
“Beneath the water?” Captain Clear looked baffled, then disappointed. “Abi…”
Her desperate plan was swinging by threads, but she wouldn’t give up. She was nowhere near finished. “I know it sounds outlandish, Papa. But we’ve got to beat Dagger Jim to the sunken treasure. They’re headed out to Bilbao in a day or more, to recover all the gold that went down with the Spanish galleon. They aim to finish the job they started ten years ago.”
“The coast of Spain?” Though his eyes flickered with intrigue, her father slowly shook his head. “That’s rather an undertaking, child.”
She grabbed his wrists. At that point, Abi was willing to say anything to get him to leave the island. “Avenge me!” she cried, forcing tears into her eyes. “For I lied—he did touch me!”
Captain Clear’s focus snapped onto her like a striking viper. “He what?”
“H-he pinched my backside,” she thought of the day she’d had to wash Captain Morrow’s ship, “in front of his crew! And stuck his filthy tongue in my mouth. And tried to make me lie in his bed!” None of it was exactly untrue.
“Bloody damn him!” Her father looked as though he might come unhinged. He turned away, his knuckles colliding with the globe atop a chest in the corner. It clamored to the floor, rolling across the panels.
“I tell you, the only vengeance that will appease me is if we set sail to Spain and thwart his plans this instant!” Abi wiped her eyes, caught in the moment’s emotion. Not to mention, she was vastly sorry to slander her beloved. But it was the only way to free the isle for him. “He obsesses over the sunken booty, Papa, it’s all he spoke of the whole time I was stuck on that awful ship. I don’t want him to have the satisfaction of getting it. We should take it. For us.”
Abner Clear’s hard grimace reflected in the grimy cabin window.
“Teach him a lesson,” Abi said into his ear, coming up behind him. “Show him what happens when a pirate dares to trifle with Captain Clear’s daughter.”
Chapter 17
James had never slept so late. Neither could he recall having reposed so deeply through any night. With a gradual, lazy grin, he deduced what had been the primary cause of his sound slumber. A frisson of bliss moved through him in a sensuous tide, and the sun itself burst in his chest. No one had ever given him such a feeling. And how perfect to be waking up at her side, ready to give his love to her again.
He leaned over, delighted at the prospect of taking that soft, beautiful body back into his embrace. Gingerly, he patted the tuft of sheet beside him. His eager hands could wait no longer to possess those heavenly curves.
But no one was there. James folded back the sheet. The silk was cool to the touch, retaining no warmth. There was no imprint of a recent occupant, either. He sat up. “Abi?” he called into the room.
His gaze panned the empty cabin, until he spotted something on the floor. The man stood and pulled on his breeches. Shirtless, he went to the door and picked up the piece of paper that lay beneath it. How long had it been there?
He was confused to find the script writ in Mr. Calahad’s hand. It began:
My darling Jim,
He scanned the page, his dizzy mind only comprehending fragments of the sentences.
Divert my father…if he may claim the sunken treasure. Monhegan will be clear for your return. Three trunks, buried in the eastern cove…twelve steps from the mouth of the cavern…dig one meter down.
His breathing clipped, James reread the letter again, carefully this time, word for word.
I choose to believe in my heart that we will cross paths again someday, it said, in closing. And should you wish to hasten that ‘someday,’ look no farther than Bilbao. If I can convince my father to set sail, then I shall await you by the Bay of Biscay.
It was signed in writing that could’ve only been her own.
ABI.
James stared at the signature, heartbroken. That couldn’t be it. She couldn’t have loved him and left him, just like that. Why wouldn’t she have stayed? They could have come up with a plan together. When and how would he find her again?
Desperate for more, he turned over the page. On the back was her portrait, skillfully sketched. She’d captured her own features poignantly, that freckled nose and coy smile. And just as he’d requested, she had drawn herself wearing the gown he gave her. He could tell she had truly admired it by the careful attention she gave its likeness, copying every detail of the sleeves
and lace, its fit and fall. He almost grinned, remembering the first night he saw her wearing it. But he couldn’t bring himself to feel anything other than her agonizing absence.
He gripped the parchment so tightly, the bottom nearly wrinkled in his hand. Forgetting his shirt, he wrenched open the door. “Mr. Calahad,” he thundered, marching up the steps.
Hilaire and Carrier stepped out of his way, saluting him as he passed.
“Calahad,” he rumbled again.
“At the helm, sir.” Pippin pointed.
His first mate only half-glanced up from his pipe when James arrived, despite the captain’s booming footfalls. Morrow brandished the letter at him. “What is the meaning of this?”
Calahad blew out a puff of smoke. “Eh, Captain?”
“Don’t ‘eh, Captain’ me. It’s penned in yer hand.”
His mate sighed. “The girl only wanted to help us all.”
“You let her go!” A frantic clawing arose in James’s chest, as though a wild beast were trapped there. Was it all a farce? What if Abigail had done and said anything—to him and his crew—to enable her escape? Why…had she not loved him at all?
“Relax,” Calahad assured him. “She told us exactly where the Spanish Treasure is buried. Isn’t that what we wanted, all along?”
“That is neither here nor there.” James fumed. “I gave you no permission to free my captive.”
“Was she your captive, Jim?” The first mate lowered his pipe, aging blue eyes seeing straight into his captain. “Or were you hers?”
A breeze swept between them. “You overstep,” James warned the man.
Calahad appeared unintimidated.
The captain’s gaze dropped back to the letter he held. He was still grappling with the morning’s turn of events. Abigail’s descriptions of where the trunks were buried were so precise. How likely was it that she would have invented so many details, simply to misguide him?
He thought on the sweetness in her kisses, the love she had professed to him, the vulnerability in her eyes when he had shown her his passion, and she’d received his love for the first time, the night before. He hadn’t been faking. Had she?
“Captain.” Calahad’s voice carried an edge of uncharacteristic sharpness. “You trust her, don’t you?”
James squared his jaw, hesitating. And then, firmly, he resolved, “Aye.”
***
Abi couldn’t believe her luck. By midday, her father was consulting the crew about a voyage to Spain. They first needed to obtain supplies in Boston before embarking, though. The fellows who hadn’t yet found themselves on a wanted list would brave the city to acquire them. Once The Succubus neared port, those young men would row by boat in the night.
From the dock, Abi gazed out at the lush greens and sparkling shores of Monhegan. My James, she thought longingly. Now you shall find what you’ve been looking for.
And she held faith that, in the end, he would come looking for her too.
She wondered how soon they would be setting off. Would they leave for Boston before sundown? Or perhaps they would go in the morning? Either way, she knew James would be wise enough to wait until they’d gone. She scanned the horizon, wondering if she might be able to spot his ship circling the isle. Thankfully, she saw nothing. She couldn’t imagine what she would do if The Indomitable was spotted, and her father attacked.
How she wished she could simply stay on the island, and rejoin James upon his imminent return. Alas, after the yarn she’d spun for her father, she could invent no more outrageous excuses. She had to stay with him, so that her loyalties wouldn’t be questioned. It was James’s only hope.
By then, Abi had begun to think they were about to set sail at any hour when, to her utmost confusion, the crew formed a line on the deck. One after the other, they disembarked the ship, some wielding shovels over their shoulders, others’ arms swinging purposefully at their sides.
Abi found Bones as he marched among them down the dock. “What’s going on?” she asked, innocently as she could.
“Excavation,” the dark man grunted.
She blinked, following them down to shore. “Of what sort?”
Bones gave her a sidelong glance, and grinned. His silver tooth glinted in the sun. “Cap’n’s orders. The ol’ treasure’s goin’ back aboard.”
Abi’s blood ran cold. She opened her mouth, but no words came out.
“All righ’ there, Abi? You’ve gone ’bout as pale as a specter.”
Abi disregarded the observation. “Why are we digging up the treasure now?”
Rags piped in. “Cap’ reckons Dagger Jim knows it’s here, ever since you let slip.”
Bones nudged him.
Abi forced a laugh, but the sound was somewhat strangled and unconvincing. At least to her ears. “But this is ludicrous! And completely unnecessary.” She tried to halt the procession. “Everyone, hang on—if you’d please stop, and think this through!”
“Eh, Abi?” Old Sorley scowled at her. “Mayhap you’d better get back aboard.” He jabbed a thumb toward the ship. “This ’ere be man’s work. Don’t want to mussy that pret’y new frock o’ yours, do ye?”
As if her dress wasn’t the furthest item from her mind!
Despite her every invention to dissuade them, she ultimately couldn’t prevent the crew from marching to the cove. Within it, she knew, was a secret cavern obscured by strategically arranged branches and driftwood. Every so often, in years past, they had visited to check on the spot, ensure there were no footprints or holes dug nearby, and to further disguise the opening to the cave. When she heard the dreaded sound of shovels clanging against stone, she wanted to weep.
In a panic, Abi dashed back up the sands. “Papa?”
A silhouette of coal black was pacing the dock. He surveyed the shore, looking pensive.
“Papa,” Abi cried again. She raced in his direction, kicking up sand, nearly twisting her ankle as she neglected to mind the rocks in the soil.
Captain Clear looked down at her, his features stoic.
“Why in heaven’s name,” she panted, clutching her breast for breath, “have you ordered them to unearth the gold?”
“’Cause we can’t keep it unguarded here any longer.”
“Then leave someone behind to guard it!” A sentry or two would be no match for James and his crew, she thought.
Unfortunately, her father seemed to be thinking along the same lines. “You’re talking foolery. Dagger Jim—the sonofabitch—knows it’s here. He’ll be back for it, mark me. But rest assured, he’ll not find it.”
Abi was scrounging for arguments. “No need to be so scrupulous.” Again, she attempted a lighthearted laugh. “Perhaps I failed to convey the magnitude of what we’re going after. Those trunks—” she pointed downshore to the cove, “hold but baubles compared with what’s at sea.”
Captain Clear smirked. “I like baubles.”
Abi came near to pulling out her own hair. “You will truly waste our time excavating three meager trunks from the earth? Even if Jim was to return for them, he’d have no idea where they’re buried! Why, the man could be digging on the island for months, years, before he’d ever—”
“Not a chance I am willing to take!” snapped her father. “If we find nothing off the Bay of Biscay, then we at least have this. What’s got you so concerned, anyway?” He squinted down at her. “I thought it would make you happy.”
Abi tempered herself, imbibing a steady breath through her nostrils. “It does,” she assuaged him. “But…but, those trunks are a liability, aren’t they? Our journey will be long. If we are confronted—if we encounter more privateers, say, or the Navy—we’ll be hanged for having them aboard!”
“Nay,” cawed the Captain. “They’d have to find ’em first.”
“And if they searched the ship?”
He shrugged. “We’ll kill ’em.”
His daughter stared up at him. It felt as though a strong enough gust of wind might blow her over. Her plan had s
ickeningly, unanticipatedly backfired. Now James would return to Monhegan, locate the area she had described in the letter, and find nothing but gaping pits in the ground. Oh, for sorrow—he would think she had betrayed him the whole while!
She wanted to kneel in the sand and never get up again. After the love they had exchanged, and all she had undergone to ensure he would have his gold back, Abi had failed him. And quite possibly broken his heart.
He would never go after her now. Why would he go looking for a snake that tricked him? She doubted even vengeance would carry him as far as Spain. Great was the likelihood she would never see James Morrow again, ever have a chance to explain to him.
If she could, she would leave him a new letter. But she couldn’t write. And he might not believe another of her correspondences, anyway. Abi stared at the horizon. Something within her had begun to fade and die, like a fragile flower that had been painstakingly blossoming, now wilted and rapidly withering to ash.
“You’d best be getting on deck, Abigail. Once the trunks are loaded, we’re leavin’.”
Down the shore, specks of men moved about. Their calls echoed in the cove along with the sounds of digging, their shovels making contact with the ground while upturned sand and dirt slapped the cavern floor.
Was there anything more she could do? At long last, Abi had run dry of ideas.
She lowered her head to hide her despair. Reluctantly, she climbed up the rickety, half-burnt dock. It appeared she hadn’t been so fortunate, after all.
Chapter 18
A drizzle of rain marked the cloudy morning when they docked at Monhegan. James Morrow apprehended the empty isle, the array of old vessels rusting at port, the eerily blackened, half-standing buildings, and felt a deep stab of loneliness. He had last been there with Abigail. They had trapped lobster on those very shores, had admired the setting sun there, hand-in-hand. And when he’d come upon her exquisite form, bathing in the freshwater pool…