by Sea Fires
“Which is?”
“That you’re a pirate, my boy.” Henry’s tone was hushed. “You really look very little like one, you know.”
Jack’s laughter rang through the large room, and Henry rushed to his side, making shushing noises. “Quiet yourself. She’ll hear you.”
“Who will hear me? What’s going on here, Henry? I may not look like a pirate, but you’re certainly acting like the fool. “
His expression indignant, Henry indicated a wing chair and, after Jack sat; pulled his own closer. “My daughter is here.”
“Your daughter?”
“Yes, I’m sure I’ve told you of her.” Henry leaned forward, forearms on knees. “She lived with my wife’s father, Lord Waverly.”
“So why is she here?”
“Her grandfather died.” Henry held up his hands. “I don’t know exactly why she came, but the fact is she did. And she thinks I’m an honest merchant.”
Jack’s brow arched. “You are a merchant.”
“I said honest, Jack. Miranda was reared very...” For lack of a better word, Henry chose, “gently. She knows nothing about the harsher realities of life.”
“Like greed and avarice?” Jack questioned sardonically.
“I was referring to the Navigation Acts and the colonies’ inability to import even the most basic of products without paying larcenous prices.”
“Ah, those realities.”
“Save your sarcastic wit for another time.” Henry bounded from his chair and began pacing in front of the hearth. “I’m quite in earnest about this.”
“That’s obvious.” Jack’s remark earned him another frustrated look from Henry. “Would you light somewhere? God’s blood, what are you worried about?” Now Jack was on his feet. “Did you expect I’d introduce myself to your daughter as Gentleman Jack Blackstone, infamous pirate and scourge of the seven seas?”
“Would you keep your voice down?” Henry hissed. “I simply don’t want her to know.”
“Then, I swear by the pirate’s creed no talk of walking the plank or plundering the Spanish Main will pass these lips.”
“Would you be serious for once?”
Jack held up a placating hand. “I am,” he announced solemnly. “After all, it’s hardly in my best interest to announce myself a pirate.” He felt that familiar itching about his neck but resisted the urge to scratch.
“Good.” With a sigh. Henry sank into his chair.
Amazed at the other man’s obvious relief, Jack settled across from him. “Did you really suppose I’d cause you a problem with this?”
“No.” Henry dropped his face into his hands. “It’s just that I left Miranda when she was a babe.”
“I know the story. It was for the best.”
”But I’ve a notion she thinks I abandoned her.”
“Did she say that?”
Henry shook his head. “Perhaps it’s my guilty conscience making me think she feels that way.”
“Henry, you —”
“I don’t wish to discuss my reasons for leaving her with her grandfather. The fact is she’s here now, and I don’t want her to know about me.”
Jack paused a moment and studied his friend’s determined face, then nodded. “She won’t learn anything from me. But I still think you’re being too hard on yourself. You’re not exactly a—”
“You don’t understand. Miranda despises pirates. And with good reason. Her ship was attacked.”
“Was she hurt?” Jack didn’t know how else to ask a father about the myriad things that could happen to a young girl at the hand of some pirates. Not him, of course. Jack prided himself on his treatment of the fairer sex. He might be a pirate, but no woman sacrificed her virtue to him... unless by her choice.
“No, thank God. From what I understand, another passenger saved her from... well from... I don’t like to think about what might have happened.” Henry’s gaze found Jack’s. “And Miranda doesn’t like to talk about it.”
“That’s understandable.”
“But I’d like your help in discovering who did this to Miranda.”
“And perhaps in meting out a bit of punishment,” Jack added, his eyes twinkling. Henry was acting more like himself.
Henry smiled. “Perhaps. The problem is, I’ve very little to go on. Miranda’s description of the blackguard doesn’t match anyone I know of. Are there any new pirates sailing the area?”
“Not that I’m aware of. But then I’ve been down in the Caribbean for over a fortnight. What does this man look like?”
Jack listened to the description and shook his head. “Huge, and fierce isn’t much to go on, but I’ll ask around down by the waterfront. ‘Tis amazing how much the tavern wenches know,” Jack said with a grin.
Henry’s expression matched Jack’s. “I’m sure if there’s anything to be found, you’re the man to do it.”
“Quite right. Now, am I to have the pleasure of meeting this daughter of yours?”
“Of course.” Henry slapped his knees and stood. But before he was halfway to the door, he paused. “Jack, I don’t need to remind you that Miranda is my daughter and not... not—”
“A tavern wench?” Jack’s brow arched.
“Well, you do have a reputation with the ladies.”
“Only the willing ones.” Jack hurried on before Henry could interrupt. “And certainly not the daughter of my dear friend.”
Jack almost laughed at the relieved expression on Henry’s face. He could only imagine that this daughter of his was some straitlaced prude to cause Henry so much despair. But for his friend’s sake he’d be cordial and charming—until he could politely make his excuses and leave. There was a certain wench down by the wharf who he was interested in getting more than information from.
While Jack waited for Henry’s daughter he absently wandered about the library. The windows were open, letting in a pleasant breeze. As he passed by a mahogany table, Jack noticed a new addition to the room. It was fairly small and cylindrical, and he’d never seen anything like it before.
“What’s this?” he asked, running his finger down the smooth side.
Henry glanced over his shoulder. “That’s Miranda’s. What does she call it? Ah, yes, a microscope.”
“A what?” Jack scratched at his neck.
“A microscope. It’s for studying— What’s wrong with you?”
But before Jack could answer, the door opened. Miranda stepped into the room, a smile curving her mouth. It froze when she saw her father’s guest. She looked at Jack, and Jack looked at her. For an instant she seemed unable to comprehend the obvious. Then her eyes widened, and her hand fluttered to her throat. “My God! It’s the pirate!”
Chapter Three
“This is your daughter?”
“What’s the pirate doing here?”
“How could you, Jack?”
Three voices, raised in agitation, rang through the room.
Miranda looked as if she might faint.
Henry bustled to help her to the settee.
And Jack loosened the cravat that suddenly seemed too tight around his neck.
“I don’t understand!” Miranda pushed against her father as he tried to force her down on the cushions. “What is he doing here? Chloe said I was to meet a friend of yours.”
“There must be some mistake.” Henry glanced around frantically, then grabbed a bill of lading from his desk and used it to fan his daughter.
“There’s no mistake.” Miranda yanked the paper from his hand and tossed it to the floor. “He’s the pirate I told you about.”
Two pairs of eyes, one set accusing, the other questioning, turned on Jack. All he could do was shrug.
“You see. He isn’t even trying to deny what he did to me.”
“What I did to you?” Jack took a menacing step forward, annoyed when Henry jumped up to block his way. “I didn’t do one damn thing to you.”
“Now, Jack, there’s no call for profanity.”
“The
hell there isn’t,” Jack said, before stalking out the door.
“Are you going to let him get away?” Miranda stood abruptly. “He’s a criminal and needs to be punished.”
“Yes, well, um.. ” Henry didn’t think, he’d ever been more perplexed. “Will you be all right if I leave you?”
“Of course. I’m perfectly fine. Just do something about the pirate. One of his men threatened to steal my microscope.”
With those words echoing in his ears, Henry hurried out the door. He found Jack pacing the piazza. “What did you do to my daughter?” Henry demanded without preamble.
Jack looked up, a scowl darkening his features. “I didn’t do one damn thing to your precious daughter.”
“Well, she said you—”
“I don’t give a damn what she said. What in the hell are you doing with a Spanish daughter?”
“She’s not Spanish.”
“Well, she sure as hell speaks Spanish.”
“She speaks English and French, Latin, too.” At Jack’s disbelieving expression, Henry continued, “Her grandfather taught her languages... among other things,” he finished in a mumble. Straightening his shoulders, Henry advanced on Jack. “But that’s not the important thing here. What you did to my daughter is.”
“No!” Jack faced Henry toe to toe. “The important thing is why you don’t believe me when I say I didn’t do anything to her.” With that Jack turned on his heel and slammed out the door into the bright sunshine.
He was feeling sorry for himself.
Jack recognized the symptoms. Knew he should do something about it. Chose not to.
His chair tilted against the wall in the small waterfront tavern, he swirled his ale in the pewter mug, then took a healthy swig. He’d been here for... hell, he didn’t know how long he’d been here. But he’d consumed a fair amount of ale. Not enough, but a fair amount nonetheless.
Jack smacked the mug onto the rough-hewn table. Sitting here getting drunk was ridiculous. He should be readying the Sea Hawk to sail away from Charles Town... forever.
Once Henry’s daughter finished with his reputation, he’d no longer be welcome in the town no matter how much the people wanted the cargo he brought. The good citizens could overlook his true profession so long as it didn’t slap them in the face. But once someone started screeching, “pirate”— and Henry’s daughter could certainly do that—they would ignore it no longer.
If he didn’t get out of here, he’d end up like old John Sparkes. Jack untwisted the cravat from around his neck. He’d already yanked off his fancy silk waistcoat. It lay across the table in a wrinkled heap.
Slamming the front chair legs to the floor, Jack shook his head. He probably should walk over to Meeting Street and say good-bye to his uncle. Then he needed to sail away.
Jack took another gulp of ale and let his head fall into his palms: Lord he didn’t want to leave Charles Town like this.
“What’s the problem, Jack?” A pair of hands slid sensually inside the opening of his shirt. “I’ll warrant it’s not something Lottie can’t fix.” The hands slipped lower as Jack raised his head.
“See.” Lottie rubbed her full breasts against Jack’s shoulder as she skimmed her fingers over the bulge forming in his breeches. “You’re feeling better already.”
“That I am, Lottie girl, but I’m afraid—”
“Jack! I have to talk to you.”
Jack looked up with drink-blurred eyes to see Henry standing before him, nervously twisting his hat brim. A stoic expression tightened his handsome features. “You come to arrest me, Henry?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Henry’s glance strayed to Lottie, who was still working her wiles on Jack. “I need to talk to you in private.”
Jack’s hand covered Lottie’s, and he shifted on the hard chair to relieve some of the pressure in his groin. “Be a good girl, Lottie, and get my friend here a drink.”
“But Jack...” The girl’s petulant mouth grazed Jack’s ear. “I was thinking you and me could go upstairs.”
“Maybe later,” Jack hedged, though he doubted he’d have the time for more than a hasty departure from town.
“I’ve looked for you everywhere,” Henry said while scraping a chair across the floor to sit huddled beside Jack.
“I’ve been here.”
“So I see. How much did you drink?” Henry fluttered his hand in a dismissing motion. “Never mind. That’s not important.” He blew out a puff of air. “I spoke with Miranda.”
Jack arched his brow. “And that is important?”
“Enough of your sarcasm, Jack. She means to see you tried as a pirate.”
“Well, I hate to disappoint your charming daughter, but I plan to be long gone before that can happen.” Jack’s eyes shot to meet the older man’s. “Unless of course she sent you to see that I don’t leave.”
“Don’t be a fool.” Henry released another puff of air and mopped his damp brow. “Though I am supposed to be seeking out the constable.”
“What?” Jack’s fist smashed into the table, shaking the wood and spilling the drink that Henry had yet to touch.
“Keep your voice down.” Henry gave a nervous look over his shoulder. Most of the tavern’s patrons were seafaring men, louder and more boisterous even than Jack. “I’m not doing it.”
“Well, that’s a relief.” Jack emptied his ale, backhanded his mouth and kept his gaze on Henry.
“Scoff if you will, but my daughter intends to see justice served. Something about laws of science or logic... or some damn thing like that.”
Jack picked up his waistcoat and tried to smooth out the wrinkles. “Well, let her try to serve justice when I’m out on the high seas.” Giving up on the wrinkles, Jack tossed the jacket over his arm and tried to stand. Henry’s arm stopped him.
“You can’t leave.”
Flopping back down, Jack stared at Henry in shock. “What the devil are you saying? I’ll not stay and have my neck stretched because of that little hellion you call a daughter.”
Henry’s back stiffened. “Watch what you say about Miranda, Jack.”
“Lord save me from fathers.”
“You’ll understand some day when you become one,” Henry shot back.
“And please, Lord, save me from that.”
Henry leaned forward. “Would you be serious?”
“Hell, I am being serious! Your daughter is planning to see me hanged, and I’m seriously planning to leave.” Jack stood. “Come down to the pier with me and we’ll work out what you owe me for the goods I brought. I’ll wager my men have unloaded a goodly amount.”
“No.”
“No?” Jack slid back into his seat. “What do you mean no?” He bent till he was nose to nose with Henry. “My men risked their lives for our cargo, and I intend to pay them.”
“Oh, I’ll pay you. Haven’t I always?”
Henry ignored Jack’s mumbled comment about that being before fatherdom. “I meant no you can’t leave. At least not now. That won’t solve anything.”
“It will sure as hell solve the problem of my elongated neck.”
“Well, what about me?” Henry’s voice squeaked on the last word.
“You?” Jack shook his head. “You aren’t a pirate.”
“True enough, but I deal with pirates—mostly you,” Henry added with an accusing look.
“And made yourself quite wealthy by doing it.”
“I know, I know.” Henry wiped his face again. “But the fact is, Miranda doesn’t know. She thinks I’m a respectable merchant. She admires me.”
Jack said nothing. He just waited for Henry to continue and tried to ignore the prickly sensation at the base of his neck.
“If she goes to the king’s revenuer, he will investigate... even if you’re gone. And I’ll be implicated for sure.”
Jack studied his friend for a moment, unable to stop feeling a bit sorry for him. But when all was said and done, Henry would receive nothing more than a mild reprimand—if
that. He certainly wasn’t in jeopardy of being hanged. Jack told him as much... but it didn’t seem to brighten his mood.
“But Miranda will find out.”
Jack sighed and leaned back. “She’s your daughter. She won’t believe it if others speak ill of you.”
“No, no.” Henry shook his head. “I couldn’t bear for her to hear rumors about me.”
“Then, tell her yourself. Make a clean breast of it and ask for her forgiveness.” Jack had found this method of dealing with women effective in the past but he could tell from Henry’s reaction he didn’t fancy the idea.
“That wouldn’t work. You saw the way she feels about pirates.” Henry had the decency to lower his eyes sheepishly. “She thinks they’re the scourge of the earth.”
Jack took a deep breath, trying to keep calm. “As I see it, it’s about time that daughter of yours faced the realities of life.”
“I fear she is a little... how should I say this—”
“Odd?” Jack offered.
“I most assuredly wasn’t going to call my daughter that. After all, she did have a terrible shock. You did attack her ship... her English ship. And knocked her to the deck. Jack, that doesn’t seem at all like you.”
“I didn’t knock her; we fell. And as for my attacking her ship, it wasn’t exactly an attack, they gave up. And when I saw your precious daughter she was with a Spaniard.”
“Um,” Henry agreed, “Don Luis.” Henry inched his chair closer. “But this discussion is getting us nowhere. I’ve thought about the dilemma. And I think I have the answer to our problem.”
“Our problem?”
Henry ignored the skeptical arch of Jack’s brow. “I want you to kidnap Miranda.”
“What? Are you insane?”
“Keep your voice down, and please resume your seat.”