Christine Dorsey - [Sea 01]

by Sea Fires

  God’s blood, must there be a reason for everything? “Because... because, I took your maidenhood, and—”

  “I wish we could simply forget it ever happened.”

  So did he, but Jack didn’t think it possible. “But it did,” he said softly.

  “True.” Miranda paced toward the window, seemed to realize that was where the pirate captain stood and turned back toward the desk. “It is an indisputable fact. However, I think it better for all concerned if we ignore it.”

  Miranda bit her bottom lip. She didn’t tell him that she couldn’t think about it in a logical way. Every time she remembered the feel of him, the way he made her soar to the heavens, her emotions engulfed her, forcing reason aside. And she couldn’t deal with something that didn’t involve reason. Which meant she couldn’t deal with the pirate.

  “Ignore it?” Jack dug his fingers through his hair.

  “Yes.” Miranda folded her hands. “As I said before, pretend it never happened.” Another thought came to her, one that surprised her. The pirate seemed worried, or at least concerned about what they’d done. That in itself did not seem very much like what she’d heard of pirates. Perhaps he feared his ransom would be less since she was no longer an innocent. Maybe he feared it wouldn’t even be worth his while to return her.

  “You needn’t concern yourself that I shall tell what happened. To my father, I mean. It was partially my fault.” She dropped her gaze.

  “It wasn’t your fault. And as for your father, that’s not my concern.” God’s blood, another lie. But to Jack’s credit, it wasn’t his main concern. “I am a pirate!”

  “Precisely.” Miranda nodded her agreement. “This sort of thing must happen to you all the time.” She seemed to wait for his agreement, so Jack gave it to her.

  “Upon occasion.” Actually, nothing remotely like this had ever occurred before. Because he had never kidnapped anyone before. And if not for Henry Chadwick and his daughter, it wouldn’t have happened this time.

  “As I thought. But you see it has never happened to me before.” She bit the end of her thumbnail, and Jack winced. In the short time he’d known her, he’d come to realize that that gesture preceded a question. “I imagine you know that, don’t you?”

  “Know what?” Just once he’d like to be able to answer one of her myriad questions.

  “That I had never forni— I mean experienced the act of reproduction.”

  “I knew.”

  “I assumed you did because you must have noticed when you rent my maiden—”

  “I said I knew?” For heaven’s sake. He expected recriminations or crying, or all manner of things, but never, never this cold, unemotional discussion.

  “Oh.” Miranda took a step back despite her earlier resolve to meet the pirate head on. She didn’t like it when he yelled. Her grandfather had never yelled, except perhaps when he’d discovered some new scientific truth. But his had been a joyful yell, not one filled with anger and frustration like the pirate’s. What did he have to be irate about? By his own admission this sort of thing happened to him all the time. She on the other hand... Miranda sucked in a calming breath, trying to remember that reproduction was a natural, scientifically explained act.

  Jack leaned into the window seat under the windows, trying to regain his calm. When he turned from the view of untamed shore, he kept his voice level. “I don’t think —”

  “Yes, but I do. And what I think is that I don’t want to discuss this anymore.” Miranda’s throat tightened, and she felt silly, emotional and, worst of all, illogical tears burn her eyes. She blinked them back. “There is nothing to be gained by arguing this further. Well, is there?”

  “Nay,” Jack answered, realizing she’d finally asked him a question he could reply to. Yet finding no solace in the truth of it.

  “Then, it is as I said earlier. We shall just forget it happened.”

  Jack stared at her for long moments, noticing the bottom lip that quivered ever so slightly and the deep blue eyes that tried but couldn’t quite meet his. She wasn’t as immune to what they’d done as she tried to pretend. Still, he couldn’t argue with her logic. There was nothing to be done for it. He let out his breath slowly. “As you wish.”

  “Thank you.” Miranda wiped her damp palms down the sides of her skirt, hoping above all else he would simply leave the cabin. He must have understood her silent entreaty, for he unclasped his hands and strode to the door.

  “There’s one thing more.”

  Would he never leave her to shed the tears she kept at bay with such difficulty?

  “I spoke with the men, Phin and Scar, and the rest.”

  Miranda’s eyes shot up to meet his, all thoughts of crying forgotten. Had he told them what she and the pirate had done? But no, Captain Blackstone was saying something about the pirates wanting the chance to talk with her again about gravity and light. “And you agreed to this?”

  “Aye. Of course there is to be no more climbing the rigging or showing the men disgusting little animals swimming about in their grog.”

  “Of course.”

  “And you don’t have to speak with them if you’d rather not.”

  “Oh, no. I want to.” If anything could take her mind off the pirate captain, it was discussing science with his men.

  She seemed so pleased with his announcement that Jack could do naught but turn and leave. He’d taken care of his first problem as best he could. At least that’s what Jack tried to tell himself.

  By the time he reached the deck, the tide was up and his crew was busy unfurling the sails that would skim them to the creek’s mouth. From there they’d head to Charles Town and then on to St. Augustine.

  After Don Diego de Segovia.

  “Ain’t she somethin’?”

  Jack turned, focused on his quartermaster, and mumbled an annoyed, “Who?”

  Phin’s expression assured Jack he wasn’t fooling a damn soul, at least not the wily old pirate. “I seen ye watchin’ her, Cap’n. If’n I didn’t know’d she weren’t your type, I’d swear ye was smitten.”

  “Thank God you know she’s not my type.” Jack ignored Phin’s snaggle-toothed grin, and leaned on the rail of the quarterdeck. He had been watching Miranda as she sat on a roll of hemp in the shade of the mast. She was sketching on parchment, intent on her work, but not seeming to mind the frequent pauses she had to make. Each time a member of the crew passed her, he stopped to say a few words.

  Hell, every single pirate on this damn ship seemed smitten with her—except himself, of course. He was just perplexed, and annoyed. And he couldn’t really figure out why.

  Under the circumstances things were working out better than he expected. Her reaction to their lovemaking surprised him. But then, everything about her surprised him. When she’d come on deck, shortly after they sailed, Miranda Chadwick hadn’t mentioned their encounter in the forest. God’s blood, she showed no sign it even happened! Not that he wanted crying or gnashing of teeth—God no. But this was ridiculous.

  Since the moment he’d left his... her cabin, Miranda had acted as if nothing had happened. As soon as she’d come above deck she began asking questions, and had barely stopped since. Not of him, of course.

  He couldn’t really say she ignored him, but damn close. That was for the best. Hadn’t he already decided that getting through the next few days, until he could foist her off into her proud papa’s arms, was going to be difficult? Well, they’d be a hell of a lot easier if he didn’t have to speak with her.

  “Ye know, Cap’n...”

  Jack glanced back toward Phin. He’d come close to forgetting the man was even there. “Yer claim that she ain’t yer type a woman would be a lot more convincin’ if ye didn’t look at her like some love-sick lad.”

  Jack’s eyes flashed to Phin’s. “I’m doing no such thing “

  Phin only screwed up his face and hunched his shoulders in a poor imitation of a shrug.

  “Well, I’m not!” A quick glance about the d
eck showed several heads turned his way, including the creamy-skinned one of the lady in question. Jack lowered his voice. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. That woman ‘tis nothing but trouble.”

  “Don’t know.” Phin rubbed his beard. “I’m kinda fond a her meself.”

  “Good. Fine.” Jack emphasized his words by placing his hands on his hips. “Care about her all you like. It makes no difference to me. Personally I can’t wait to return her to Charles Town and end this farce of a kidnapping.”

  “That why ye had us leave ‘fore we even got the hull cleaned?”

  “Nay.” Jack leaned against the rail and watched a gull swoop through the air. High tide had filled the channel so that they sailed easily toward the creek’s mouth. But he hadn’t told anyone why they sailed. Jack let out his breath. “De Segovia is back in St. Augustine.”

  Phin’s eyes widened, then narrowed till there was naught but the dark pupils showing through the lids. “How do ye come by this?”

  Jack leaned on his forearms. “I met Nafkebee in the forest. He had contact with a tribe from farther south, down in land claimed by the Spanish. They told him de Segovia has returned to St. Augustine as the new head of the garrison there.”

  Phin scratched at his chin. “But how did Nafkebee know how to find ye?”

  “Robert told him.”

  “Yer uncle?”

  “Aye. Before we left Charles Town I told Uncle Robert of this... kidnapping.” Jack grimaced. “And that we were headed for Snebley’s Creek. When Nafkebee couldn’t find me in Charles Town, he sought out Robert, who told him where I was.” Jack paused. “Robert sent his own message that we should return to Charles Town immediately.”

  Phin seemed to absorb that information; then he shook his head. “So that’s what had ye actin’ so strange.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Ever since we came upon ye and Mistress Miranda in the forest ye been actin’ all crazy like.”

  Jack’s jaw clenched. “I’m anxious to find de Segovia and hopefully my sister.”

  “I know’s that, Cap’n.”

  Phin’s expression was so solemn, Jack had a sudden urge to explain that there was more than de Segovia bothering him. But that wouldn’t be fair to Miranda, and besides, Jack didn’t know what Phin’s reaction would be. They both had their share of women whenever they were in port. But in Phin’s own words, he was fond of Miranda.

  Fond of her in a fatherly way, if Jack didn’t miss his guess. The kind of fondness that wouldn’t take to someone hurting her, even if that someone was his good friend Jack.

  “God save me from fathers,” Jack mumbled under his breath.

  “What’s that, Cap’n?”

  “Nothing.” Jack shook his head. “We simply need to get back to Charles Town quickly.”

  “But what ‘bout Henry?”

  “What about him? And keep your voice down.” Jack shot a quick glance to where Miranda sat. She appeared to be deep in conversation with Scar. The fact that Scar could be deep in conversation about anything was a marvel.

  “She can’t hear me, Cap’n.”

  “Maybe not. But Henry wouldn’t be happy if his daughter found out how well we know her father.”

  “So what’s he gonna say when we bring her back to Charles Town early? What if the king’s revenuer ain’t sailed yet?”

  “That’s going to have to be Henry’s problem,” Jack said. But in the end he knew it would be his, too. He loosened his cravat. “Certainly he can keep his daughter from telling about us for a few days!

  “I don’t know ‘bout that, Cap’n. She’s likely to be hoppin’ mad when we get her home. Most folk don’t take kindly to kidnappin’.”

  “True enough, Phin.” And you don’t know the half of it, Jack finished to himself. Once Miranda Chadwick had a chance to think over their encounter in the forest, she might not be so willing to pretend it never happened. Jack’s eyes strayed to her calmly smiling at something Scar said. This dispassionate facade could shatter soon. And then Jack hated to see what would happen.

  Maybe he’d be gone to St. Augustine, a small, cowardly voice reminded him. Then Henry would have to take care of everything. Of course, Jack could forget ever returning to Charles Town after that.

  Braiding his fingers, Jack dropped his head on the cushion of his hands. “What is it, Cap’n? What’s wrong? Ye sick?”

  “Nay.” Jack straightened. “It’s just—”

  “Sails ho!” The call from the lookout interrupted Jack. He squinted his eyes and looked up at the sailor. What in the hell was he talking about? They were headed toward the mouth of Snebley Creek—the creek that damn few people knew about. How could the lookout have spotted sails?

  Jack opened his mouth to question him, when the sailor in the rigging surprised him further. “Looks Spanish, Cap’n.”

  Chapter Ten

  “What is it? What’s happening?” Miranda pushed through the pirates, who’d quite suddenly started moving about the ship. Some were rushing below while others grabbed muskets from a long wooden box and climbed the rigging. They all seemed in a hurry, and to a man they ignored her.

  Clutching the rail to the steps, Miranda held up her skirts and scrambled to the quarterdeck. The pirate captain didn’t notice her until she grabbed his arm. He stood, brass telescope against his squinted eye, searching the horizon.

  He jerked around when she touched him.

  His expression was hard, the bronzed skin stretched taut over his chiseled features. There was not a hint of softening when he looked at her. If anything, his jaw clenched tighter. “What the hell are you doing up here?” God’s blood, didn’t he have enough to worry about without this? In truth, he’d been so engrossed in the Spanish vessel, Jack had all but forgotten his beautiful captive.

  Taken aback by the vehemence of his words, Miranda forced herself not to cower. “I want to know why your men are running about. What’s happening?”

  Jack stared at her while he worked to control his anger—not at her this time, but at the situation he found himself thrown into. “They’re preparing for battle,” he answered simply.

  “Battle?”

  “Aye. Or retreating... or whatever we can do to make it past yon Spanish ship.”

  Miranda sucked in her breath, but she shaded her eyes and stared in the direction he indicated. She could see little through the veil of trees and late-afternoon mist except sails. “How do you know it’s Spanish? Perhaps it’s simply an English vessel sailing up the creek.”

  Jack didn’t mention that to him an English ship blocking the mouth of the creek was almost as bad. He simply passed her the telescope. “You seem to fancy seeing things larger than life, Mistress Chadwick.”

  Miranda spotted the Spanish ensign and lowered the spyglass, her eyes catching the pirate’s. “We aren’t at war with Spain.”

  “Perhaps you aren’t.” Jack let out his breath. “But I can assure you, I am. And—” he swiped windblown hair off his forehead— “the feeling is mutual.”

  Noise from the deck below momentarily distracted Miranda. Her gaze swept across the forecastle to where pirates were pulling and shoving at large black cannons. She spotted Phin yelling at some men, their shirts stripped from sweat-gleaming torsos, who were piling cannonballs on the deck. Still others were spreading a layer of sand over the oaken floor.

  Anxiety curled in her stomach. “You’re going to fight them?”

  She looked so frightened, with her deep blue eyes as large as gold coins, that Jack was tempted to lie to her. But knowing Miranda he decided she’d figure out the truth sooner or later. Besides, though she appeared alarmed, she stood her ground, and that defiant little chin was held high.

  “I’m not going to fight unless I have to,” Jack said, then added honestly. “But I don’t see any way around it.”

  “We could sail back up the creek. Surely they wouldn’t—”

  “Follow?” Jack shook his head. “You’re pro
bably right. Except that when the tide goes out we’ll be beached as we were before. They’d only have to send some men upstream in small boats to overrun us. We haven’t many men.

  “The same holds true of staying where we are, or even sailing closer to the Spanish frigate. Unless we can reach deeper water, open sea, by low tide, we’re vulnerable.”

  “But what of the Spanish ship? Doesn’t it have the same problem?”

  “Nay. It’s in the channel where the water’s deeper. And ‘tis blocking us from getting there.” And from the looks of its position, the Spanish captain knew exactly what he was doing. Again Jack wondered how the Spanish had found this inlet. It had proven such a safe haven before, Jack could have sworn he was the only one who knew of it. Of course, his crew knew, and he’d told a few people close to him. His uncle... Miranda’s father.

  Jack gave his head a quick shake. What was he thinking? Henry wouldn’t have said anything. “Do we have a chance in a battle?”

  “There’s always a chance,” Jack answered, still distracted by thoughts of Henry Chadwick. He glanced down at Miranda when he heard her gasp. “Don’t worry. I’ve fought my way out of tighter scrapes than this.” Jack took a measure of comfort realizing what he told her was true. He had faced long odds and come out the victor. But he preferred a surer thing.

  “Go below.” Jack yanked a pistol from the waistband of his breeches. “And take this with you.”

  “But —”

  “I doubt there will he call to use it. However, if there is, a gun is a lot more effective than a rusty sword.”

  Miranda colored at his reference to her ludicrous attempt to fight the pirate captain the first time they’d met. She examined the heavy pistol and caught the glint of polished brass as the late-afternoon sun reflected off the muzzle. “I don’t know how to use one of these.”

  “ ‘Tis primed and ready. Just, set the lock to full-cock.” Jack covered her hands with his, showing her how to do that, then returned the lock to the safety position. “Aim and squeeze the trigger. But don’t use it unless you’ve no choice. Chances are good that even if the Spanish manage to...” Jack paused when he realized he was thinking in terms of losing this battle. “You will most likely be safe no matter who wins the day.”