The Blue Enchantress

by Marylu Tyndall

  True to his promise, Mr. Mason had not spoken a word to her nor graced her with one glance of his handsome brown eyes for three days. In fact, wherever she happened to be, whether sitting on the beach or lolling about the camp, he made every effort to position himself elsewhere.

  The stab of his rejection surprised her. Hadn’t she always known he deserved a far more chaste and pious lady than she? Someone like Abigail. The more Hope had tried to prove herself a lady to this virtuous man, the less he seemed to believe it—even though she had not behaved to the contrary.

  Except she had welcomed his kiss.

  She rose to her elbows as a bath of heat drenched her at the memory. And what a kiss it was! The gentleness, the yearning she felt in his every movement. A fiery heat had flooded her entire body, stealing her ability to think, to breathe. Not at all like the manner in which he had kissed her on board the merchantman. Passion had driven that kiss, but this one ... A pleasant shiver ran through her even now. It was as if Nathaniel were truly kissing her—Hope Westcott—not who she appeared to be on the outside. She’d experienced none like it before. And certainly never would again.

  A jab of guilt struck her. What of Abigail? Obviously, she harbored affections for Nathaniel. In light of that, Hope should have rejected Nathaniel’s advance, should have pushed him away. Could she not resist one man’s attentions for the sake of a friend? Hope’s heart grew heavy even as the bird’s morning ensemble drifted away. The beautiful creatures had no doubt given up on her joining them and flown away in search of a better prospect.

  She tested her weight on her ankle and found only a light twinge remained. Running her fingers through her hair, she squared her shoulders and emerged from the hut to a blast of hot, salty air and the tiresome smell of fish.

  Gavin lay in the sand at the center of camp, his hands pillowing his head. Turning, he gave her a sultry grin and sprang to his feet. “Allow me, milady.” He took her elbow to assist her.

  Hope smiled at his gallantry. “Thank you, kind sir, but I believe my ankle is much better today. I may even venture out for a walk ... or perhaps a hobble.” She warmed to his look of compassion.

  “If you would permit me, I’d be honored to escort you on your stroll.” He led her to a chair Nathaniel had fashioned from pinewood and twine and knelt beside her. Taking her hand in his, Gavin brushed his thumb over her skin, and Hope shifted in her seat, uncomfortable with his familiarity. His blue eyes, a shade darker than her own, held a brighter glow than their normal playfulness. Truth be told, after Nathaniel’s rejection, Gavin’s kindness had broken down the wall of her resolve to resist his flirtations. His regard dulled the incessant lance in her heart and made the long days upon this island pass much quicker. And what did it matter? She’d failed to win Nathaniel’s admiration, and since he had already accused her of playing the coquette with Gavin, what harm would it do to fulfill his expectations?

  Hope sighed and gazed out upon the calm morning sea, a plate of turquoise glass stretching to the horizon. Her thoughts drifted from Gavin, to Nathaniel, and ended with Lord Falkland. Did he ever think of her? Had he inquired who had purchased her at that heinous auction? A lump of sorrow and remorse lodged in her throat. Perhaps her obsession with Nathaniel was only a symptom of her still-broken heart.

  Lifting her hand, Gavin placed a kiss upon her bare fingers, drawing Hope’s attention back to him.

  Bang. Clunk. The sound of wood dropping jolted Hope. Tugging her hand from Gavin’s grasp, she peered around him in time to see Nathaniel wiping his hands—as if he were wiping them of her—and storming from the camp onto the beach, never once looking her way.

  “A bit of a grouch this morning, eh?” Gavin watched Nathaniel leave.

  Hope let out a ragged breath. “I fear ’tis my presence that dampens his humor.”

  “But why let him dampen ours?” Gavin grabbed a lock of Hope’s hair and fingered it, a mischievous grin on his lips.

  A pinprick of unease filtered over Hope. “Where is Abigail?” She scanned the beach then the leafy wall beyond the sand.

  “She went to get water with Kreggs. And Hanson is gathering fruit on the other side of the island.” Gavin lifted one brow in her direction. “We are very much alone.”

  The taunting glint in his eyes put Hope’s fears to rest. “Should I be frightened, Mr. Keese?” She gave him a coy smile.

  “Do you want to be?”

  Her heart skipped, longing to continue this harmless dalliance, but a vision of Major Paine filled her mind, and the smile she intended to give Gavin faded to a frown.

  He scratched the whiskers on his jawline. “Forgive me, Hope. I had forgotten about the major.”

  “You know?”

  “Aye, Nathaniel made mention of it.”

  Hope nodded, wondering why Nathaniel would bring up such a sordid story, especially when the major and his party had been gone now for two days.

  She watched Nathaniel walking down the shore, his focus intent upon the sand, perhaps hunting for crab.

  Gavin released her hair and stood. “The cad. If I had been there—”

  “No harm came of it. Nathaniel arrived in time.” Hope remembered the way Nathaniel had looked when he burst into the clearing, She’d never seen such fury on his face. His sword thrust before him, his eyes narrowed like daggers. And the way he’d dispatched the major so quickly and sent him scurrying off like a frightened rabbit. She would have laughed if she hadn’t been so terrified.

  And so in awe of Nathaniel.

  She shook her head, trying to dislodge the nagging memory, especially the memory of his kiss.

  “You are safe with me.” Gavin winked, and Hope longed to reach out and take his hand again, if only to aid in ridding herself of the remembrance of Nathaniel’s touch. But she resisted. A breeze flapped his cotton shirt and fingered through his light hair.

  “Thank you, Mr. Keese.”

  “Gavin, please.”

  “Gavin.” She nodded.

  Wiping sand from his breeches, he gestured toward a bucket of fruit. “Some fruit for milady?”

  “You may cease with the pretensions. I am no lady.” Hope huffed.

  “You are to me.” The sincerity in his eyes stunned her. Turning, he plucked a roasted plantain from the pile and handed it to her.

  She gave him a puzzled look. Was he flirting with her? Telling her what she longed to hear in order to have his way, like so many men before him? Yet nothing devious slithered in his gaze. Just a boyish innocence that belied the worldly man she knew dwelt inside. Perhaps he was simply playing a part, playing a game. Then why did moisture fill her eyes at his kind remark?

  She shifted her gaze and thoughts back out to sea and wondered at the fate of Elise and Mrs. Hendrick and the others. Had they made it to Puerto Rico, and if so, had they avoided the Spanish? Even if they did somehow make it to Jamaica, would they bother to send back a ship? If Hope thought God would listen to her prayers, she’d pray for their safety, especially Elise’s. But since she had already heard Abigail petitioning on their behalf each night, Hope supposed that was good enough, for if God would listen to anyone, He would listen to Abigail.

  An enormous blast thundered through the air. Hope jumped, threw a hand to her chest, and rose from her seat. Gavin dashed to her side and together they peered toward the beach. Nathaniel halted and stared at something offshore. His calm stance indicated no alarm. Hope’s heart leapt. Perhaps a ship had come to their rescue after all.

  “Stay here.” Grabbing two swords and a pistol, Gavin raced toward Nathaniel. Though she tried, Hope could not remain still. Taking a tentative step on her sore ankle, she followed after him, limping across the sand. As she passed an outcropping of palms, she followed the gazes of the men to see a ship, a puff of dissipating smoke lingering in the air above its larboard hull.

  A ship!

  They were to be rescued at last.

  Yet as she approached Nathaniel and Gavin, they did not seem to share her glee.
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br />   “Blast it all, my fortune for a telescope.” Nathaniel planted his fists on his waist. “Can you make her out, Gavin?”

  “Nay, but it appears she raises her colors.” Gavin handed Nathaniel his sword, which he grabbed with a nod. “Let us wait and see.”

  “Do you think they mean us harm?” Hope asked.

  Both men swerved to face her. “I told you to stay put.” Gavin gave her a scolding look. Nathaniel barely allowed his eyes to land on her before he uttered a “harrumph” and turned away.

  The anchor splashed into the sea, and cockboats were lowered. Thoughts of home made her spirits soar. A merchantman perhaps, or a ship sent back by Major Paine. In either case, soon she would be on her way home to her sisters and away from Nathaniel and the disturbing effect he had upon her.

  A flag was hoisted upon the mainmast. Beads of sweat formed on Nathaniel’s brow as he squinted his eyes against the rising sun.

  Suddenly his grip upon the hilt of his sword tightened.

  Gavin groaned. “Well, sink me, of all the luck.”

  “What is it?” Hope peered at the ship. A black flag flapped in the breeze atop her foremast.

  The muscles in Nathaniel’s jaw tensed, and he leveled his dark eyes upon her.

  “Pirates.”

  CHAPTER 22

  Nathaniel grimaced as the anticipation on Hope’s face paled into bristling fear.

  “Pirates?” she squeaked. Her gaze flashed back to the ship and her hand went to her throat.

  Dread sank like an anchor into Nathaniel’s stomach as he once again studied the flag flapping in the light morning breeze, hoping, praying he’d made a mistake. But the white skull and crisscross of swords stark against the black background gave no room for error. Of all the ships to land on this island, why did it have to be a pirate ship? He eyed Hope again. Her breathing had sped to a rapid pace. As had his own. How was he to protect her and Abigail from these salacious brigands?

  Oars splashed into the water, and the cockboats, overflowing with men, surged toward shore, jeering insults flying upon the wind, announcing their arrival.

  O Lord, I need Your help. Give their captain some shred of decency toward us.

  Gavin shot Nathaniel a wary glance, his jaw flexing. “Should I get Kreggs and Hanson?”

  “Nay, ’tis best they remain hidden. They’ve seen only us so far.”

  Gavin nodded and planted his bare feet firmly upon the sand. “Any suggestions?”

  “Stand our ground.” Nathaniel rubbed the rising ache on his side. “And pray.”

  Gavin snorted and instead primed and cocked his pistol then shoved it down his breeches.

  Hope gripped Nathaniel’s arm. Not Gavin’s arm, but his. He glanced down at her. “Go back to the hut.”

  “Please. Let me stay with you.” She dug her fingers into his skin. “I don’t want to be alone.” Her brow wrinkled and she lifted pleading eyes to his. “Besides, they know I’m here.”

  “Get behind me, then.” He took her hand from his arm and eased her back. Though he felt a quiver run through her, she didn’t whimper or swoon like most women would under similar circumstances. “I’ll do everything in my power to keep you safe.” His tone failed to carry the reassurance he hoped it would.

  “As will I,” Gavin added.

  Terror ripped holes in Nathaniel’s gut. He could not stand the thought of Hope or Abigail being hurt, not in this way, not by these men. Nevertheless, he lengthened his stance, planted the tip of his sword into the sand, and awaited his guests. He’d dealt with pirates before. They fed on fear, and he vowed to not give them their meal for the day.

  One cockboat struck sand with a crunching thud, jolting the boisterous passengers from their seats and sending one man overboard. After the pirates recovered from their laughter and the one had risen from the shallows, looking more like a sea snake than a man, they spilled out of the boat like ants over an anthill and sloshed through the water toward shore. Greed dripped from their twisted lips as they scanned the island, searching for anything to satisfy their appetites. Their gazes swept over Nathaniel and Gavin in complete disregard and latched upon Hope as if they could see her right through him. Clutching Nathaniel’s arm again, she shrank farther behind him. He felt her tremble.

  Though he did not raise it, Gavin gripped his sword and frowned at the crew of men, some of whom lined up before them, arms across their chests, while a few others wandered over the sand, surveying their new conquest. The men ranged in age, girth, and stature, but all wore the same scowl and the same devilish look on their sun-battered faces. Their colorful attire, though mismatched and filthy, bore the elements of nobility in the gold and silver embroidery, the silk lace, and the metallic threaded brocade and damask coats—all no doubt stolen. Armed with a cutlass and a brace of pistols across his chest, each man wore the imperious facade of invincibility. They were masters of the sea, and they well knew it.

  Though he could not squelch the fear racing through him, Nathaniel saw behind their masks of insolence. These were lost men wandering the seas in search not only of treasure but also of purpose, of meaning, of true life. No different from most men’s quest, save the method they chose to go about it.

  The second boat hit shore, and more men leapt over her gunwales and splashed through the waves, some remaining in the water, while others lumbered onto the sand.

  From their midst, a tall dark man sporting a blue plumed tricorn and black velvet waistcoat trimmed in silver marched toward Nathaniel, a jeering grin on his lips.

  Doffing his hat, he bowed to the knee. The sun glinted off a gold earring in his ear. “Captain Poole of the pirate ship Enchantress at yer service.” He slapped the tricorn back atop his head. “And ye are?” he asked Nathaniel, but his gaze angled around him to where Hope huddled. His eyebrows rose.

  “I am Mr. Nathaniel Mason, and this is Mr. Gavin Keese.”

  Gavin slid his fingers over the silver handle of his pistol and inched closer to Nathaniel. Together they formed a wall in front of Hope. With a quick shake of his head, Nathaniel hoped to dissuade his impetuous companion from attempting anything foolish.

  “Pleased to make yer acquaintance.” Cocking his head, Captain Poole studied them; then he glanced over his shoulder and lifted his lace-covered hand.

  Splashing sounded, and the mob of pirates in the water parted. Major Paine, Mr. and Mrs. Hendrick, and Elise emerged in the grip of four men, who dragged them toward their captain. Salt encrusted their filthy clothing, and their faces bore the marks of an arduous journey.

  Hope gasped and rushed forward, but Nathaniel reached out and forced her back.

  “Do these wretched creatures belong to ye?”

  Laughter broke out among the pirates.

  Nathaniel shifted his stance. His yes and Gavin’s no echoed at the same time above the lapping waves, causing further hilarity among the ribald crew.

  “Well, since they told us where to find ye, I’ll expect yer the one tellin’ the truth.” Captain Poole pointed to Nathaniel, then surveyed Gavin. “And ye the liar.” His eyes landed on Gavin’s pistol, and he snorted as if it were naught but a stick.

  “Unhand me.” The major’s sullen command drew Nathaniel’s attention his way. Stripped down to his white shirt and breeches, his hair hanging in saturated strands about his face, the major looked more like an uprooted kelp than a man wielding the king’s authority. Nevertheless, he tossed his chin in the air, as was the habit of all men bred to power, regardless of whether they still held it.

  Mr. Hendrick fared no better. His sopping red beard clung to his chin like a sea urchin, and both shock and dread swam in his eyes. White faced, his wife and child huddled by his side.

  “We found ’em floatin’ in the sea, hangin’ on for dear life to shreds of wood.” Captain Poole chortled, waving a hand in their direction. “We wanted to have some sport with ’em, but since we found ourselves in need of fresh water and fruit, and they swore they knew of a place close by laden with suc
h amenities, we decided not to kill ’em.”

  “Very kind of you.” Nathaniel bowed.

  “Aye, we pirates are not without mercy, are we, men?”

  Ayes and curses filled the air.

  “But since we are here now...” A malicious look burned in the captain’s dark gaze as he eyed the captives.

  The pirates shoved the major and Mr. Hendrick to the sand and released Mrs. Hendrick and Elise. The little girl gripped her mother’s skirts like a lifeline, her eyes big as portholes, but not a sound escaped her lips. Her mother, however, sobbed, clutching her stomach, and fell into a heap.

  Shoving Nathaniel aside, Hope squeezed between him and Gavin and dashed toward Mrs. Hendrick before Nathaniel could stop her. She brushed past the pirates, unaware of the multitude of eyes following her. When she reached Mrs. Hendrick, she knelt and put her arm around her shoulders. Elise fell into Hope’s embrace, and she squeezed the girl and planted a kiss on her head. Nathaniel didn’t know whether to be amazed at her bravery or appalled at her foolishness.

  Captain Poole’s eyes lit up. “I see you have other delicacies on the island as well.”

  “Some delicacies you are welcome to.” Nathaniel forced a commanding tone into his voice. “Others you are not.”

  The captain belched. “Indeed?” He cocked his head at Nathaniel as if he were studying a specimen under a quizzing glass. He snapped his fingers in the air. “Spread out and search for others,” he ordered. As some of his men dispersed, he swaggered up to Nathaniel. “Rather bold for a man with only one sword.”

  “Two swords and a pistol.” Gavin cast a look of challenge his way.

  “Ah, I stand corrected. Did ye hear that, men? Two swords and a pistol.” The crew chuckled as Captain Poole shoved his face into Gavin’s, but the man did not blink. “Against thirty blades and twice as many pistols, not to mention me guns aboard the ship. Are ye that cocky or jest plain stupid?”

  Nathaniel clenched his fists and prayed Gavin would hold his tongue, but the young man returned the captain’s glare with equal intensity and a spark of playfulness. “Perhaps a bit of both.”