by Sea Fires
“I have no idea. But knowing your daughter, I’m sure she’ll explain it to us.”
Miranda lifted her chin. “Perhaps I won’t.”
“No, please, enlighten us.” Jack didn’t try to hide the sarcasm in his tone. “Perhaps the knowledge will help the next time I stage a... what was it? Ah, yes, a mockery of a kidnapping.”
The smile Miranda gave him was too sweet to be sincere. “I simply made a generalization based on specific observations.”
Jack’s golden brow lifted. “Such as?”
“First of all you two obviously know each other and, more to the point, seem to be friends. How could you not have known he was a pirate, Papa?” Henry sputtered again, but Miranda gave him no time to respond. “It’s not logical to assume you didn’t.”
“So I’m kidnapped from my own home, and my own father does nothing to stop it.” She caught Jack’s eyes. “The story about tying him up was convincing at first...”
Jack gave a slight nod to acknowledge her remark.
“However, taken with everything else it didn’t reason true.”
“What else gave it away?” Jack couldn’t help being impressed by her figuring out the ruse... even if she did have a gun trained on him.
“The ransom for one thing. First it was to be collected at the creek, then not. Your concern for the money seemed incidental. I don’t think in a real kidnapping that would be true.
“You also seemed overly concerned with my well-being. Granted I’ve had little experience with pirates—you and your men are the only ones I’ve known—but I doubt that my safety would be a pirate’s main priority if I’d been abducted only for the coin.”
“Perhaps I was merely protecting my investment,” Jack offered.
“Perhaps. Of course, I really began to wonder after we forni—made love. You appeared so distraught.”
“God’s blood, I was not distraught!” Jack jumped off the mattress despite the pistol. How in the hell could she bring that up?
Miranda merely shrugged. “You seemed so to me.”
“Do you see what I’ve had to contend with?” Jack faced Henry, who still sat perched on the bed. “Do you see?”
“It appears to me that I am the one who has had to withstand adversity... and at both your hands.”
”Miranda, I’m your father—”
“Which is probably why what you did to me hurts the most. All those years while I was in England I imagined you here wanting me with you... loving me—”
“I do love you. I do.” Now Henry joined Jack beside the bed. “I just couldn’t bare for you to know... to know the truth about me.”
“That you have a partnership with a pirate?”
“Dammit Jack, you told her!”
“Nay, I didn’t tell her anything.” Jack crossed his arms. “Haven’t you discovered by now there is little that escapes your daughter... especially when she listens at doors.” His golden head turned. “I think the question now is what you intend to do?”
“I’m not certain.” Miranda wished she had some time, some quiet, solitary time to think this problem through. She was sure of one thing. “I have no intention of marrying you.”
“If you were listening carefully through the keyhole, you must know that wasn’t my idea.” She didn’t have to act as if being his wife was the worst fate she could imagine.
“That’s fine, because I will not do it. Though perhaps it would be a just punishment for you.”
“Pirates are normally hung, not imprisoned.” Jack spat out the words, but as he saw the color drain from her face, he wished them back. Despite the gun, and that she seemed to view marriage to him as a fate worse than death, he didn’t want to hurt her. Besides, he supposed she had a right to feel the way she did about this whole thing. Jack just wished he weren’t in the middle of it.
Especially when Henry continued to play the outraged father.
“I still think marriage between the two of you is the solution,” Henry said before shuffling barefooted to the window. “It’s the only way to right the wrong Jack did to you.”
“It wasn’t entirely Captain Blackstone’s fault.” Miranda had her reasons for being angry, but she also intended to be honest.
“It sure as hell was,” Jack insisted. He was going to be gentleman enough to take the blame for his seduction. Though he certainly hadn’t set out to ravish Miranda, the result was the same.
“This arguing is getting us nowhere.” Henry lifted pleading hands toward his daughter. “I just want what’s best for you. And I want to know if you can ever forgive me.”
Miranda opened her mouth to speak, though in truth she didn’t know what she planned to say. But a pounding on the downstairs door startled her. She swirled around and, in the same moment, felt the pistol yanked from her grip.
“I don’t think you’ll be needing this anymore,” Jack said, before slipping the gun into his waistband.
“Who in the hell could that be?” Henry padded into the hallway and looked over the banister.
“Scar’s the only one who knows I’m here,” Jack said, racing down the stairs. He wanted to get to the door before the noise woke the entire street. “And he wouldn’t come here unless there was trouble.”
Jack rounded the newel just as Chloe came shuffling out from the back of the house. “What’s all this racket?” the old black woman mumbled. “Loud ‘nough to wake the dead.”
“Don’t you worry yourself about it.” Jack headed her off as she reached for the doorknob. He turned her, giving her plump shoulders a hug. “You go on back to bed.”
“Mister Jack! Shoulda know’d ya had somehin’ to do with this,” she said, before retreating back to her bedroom.
Jack jerked open the door to the piazza, ran across the wooden porch and yanked on that door—so quickly that Scar’s shocked expression seemed frozen on his face as Jack dragged him inside.
“What the hell are you doing? I thought I told you we were sneaking Mistress Chadwick back to her home.”
“That’s just it, Cap’n. They knows about it. And they’re comin’ for ye.”
“Who’s coming? What are you talking about?” Jack had Scar by the lapels of his scruffy jacket and was lifting him till only the toes of his salt-crusted boots touched the flooring.
“Joshua Peterson, the king’s revenuer.”
Jack lowered Scar and sliced a quick glance toward Henry.
“He’s still in Charles Town. You didn’t stay away long enough. I told you a fortnight.” Henry scurried onto the piazza, followed by Miranda.
“But that doesn’t explain why he’d come after me. Unless...” Again his eyes found Henry’s. “Did you tell people your daughter was kidnapped?”
“No. I said she was down with the fever. There was never any question that she was anywhere but in her room.”
“The servants?”
“Didn’t know the truth. Besides, they’re all loyal.”
Jack couldn’t argue with that. But if Henry didn’t tell, that left... Jack’s eyes narrowed and fixed on Miranda. “Is that why you were holding me there at gunpoint? Were you waiting for the king’s men to get here?”
“No.” Miranda couldn’t help squirming under that green gaze of his, even though she knew she was innocent. “I was with you, remember.”
“Not after I brought you home. You were sent off to your room.”
“And listened at the door instead, except for when I ran downstairs to get the pistol from Papa’s desk,” Miranda reminded him.
Jack dug his fingers back through his hair and let out an exasperated breath. “All right.” He addressed this to Scar, who was still busy straightening his clothes. “Tell me what you saw.”
“Didn’t see nothin’ ‘ceptin’ some tars down at the Rusty Pelican. But I done heard me an earful. Word is that someone done seen the Sea Hawk in the harbor and sent for the customs officer and the constable.”
“What in the hell for? We dock in the harbor all the time.”
<
br /> “Kidnappin’.” Scar spit the word out. “They was all talkn’ ’bout it. Knew ‘bout her ladyship bein’ with us and ‘bout Henry here, too.”
“What about me?” Henry asked.
“ ‘Bout ye bein’ in on it. And ‘bout ye bein’ hooked up with Jack.”
That all-too-familiar itch was back at the base of his neck, but Jack was too busy thinking to scratch it. He paced across the porch, then back. Someone... and he couldn’t imagine who... was trying their damnedest to get him hung. But he didn’t have time to worry about who it was right now.
Jack grabbed Scar’s arm. “We need to get back to the ship and hope we can get her under sail before—”
“What of me?” Henry hurried to block the door with his body. “If they know I’m involved, they’ll figure out the rest. I’ll be tried for piracy.”
“Come with us then.” Jack lifted him out of the way.
“And Miranda?”
“God’s blood, bring her, too.” This was unbelievable. The constable and his deputies could be at the Sea Hawk right now. Or on their way here, and—
“No one is going anywhere.”
Jack cringed when he heard that voice. He turned and saw exactly what he feared he’d see. “Miranda, put down that gun.” His gun. The one he’d carelessly left on the nightstand beside the bed.
“Not until you listen to me. There’s no reason for anyone to go running off. I shall simply tell the constable that I wasn’t kidnapped.”
Jack leveled a look on her. “You’d do that?” It was still fresh in his mind that the motive for kidnapping her in the first place was to prevent Miranda, from talking to the authorities. Could she be trusted now?
“For my father, I would. It appears that he is enmeshed in this thing with you. I can’t let anything happen to him.”
“Miranda.” Henry wrapped his arms around his daughter. She made sure the pistol was still trained on Jack.
Disgusted, he stuck his hands on his hips. “This display of paternal love is charming, but I still think Scar and I will leave. You have your proof, Henry. Your daughter is safe and sound and says she wasn’t kidnapped.”
“I said you’re not going anywhere,” Miranda reminded him. “I need you to make my story credible.”
“What the hell.” Jack started toward her. He’d take that gun from her and be on his way. She wouldn’t pull the trigger. He was almost certain. Scar’s frenzied yell stopped him.
“They’re comin’, Cap’n. A whole passel a ‘em.”
“God’s blood!” At least ten men hurried along the street heading straight for Henry’s house. They carried burning brands, and they didn’t look in a pleasant mood. Jack recognized Joshua Peterson, the royal collector of revenues, and the constable among them. They crowded around the doorway to the piazza. Jack shoved Scar toward the back of the house with orders to get to the Sea Hawk.
“Henry Chadwick, you in there?”
Miranda squeezed her father’s arm. “There’s nothing to worry about.”
Then, why did he have this almost uncontrollable urge to dig at his neck, Jack wondered. But it was too late to run. There was nothing to do but face the men and hope that Miranda Chadwick was true to her word.
Jack nodded toward Henry. “Let them in.”
Henry opened the door and stepped into the puddle of light thrown off by the torches. There was an angry rumble from the group followed by a hush as Henry held up his hands. “Gentlemen,” he said, his voice betraying no fear. “To what do I owe this visit?”
“ ‘Tis for Jack Blackstone we’ve come. Our understanding is that he’s here.” This from Graham Hicks, the town’s constable.
“Jack? He’s here. But it’s a little late for calling, don’t you think? Perhaps morning would be better.”
“And have him sailing full speed for the Spanish Main by then,” grumbled someone in the crowd, and others joined in the protest.
“It’s not a social visit we’re paying,” Constable Hicks added after hushing the crowd.
“We’ve reason to believe Captain Blackstone is guilty of kidnapping... among other things,” Joshua Peterson said. “And I demand to see him in the name of the king.”
“Well, certainly, if it’s in the king’s name.” Henry threw open the door, allowing the royal revenuer and the constable inside. He slammed the door on the rest of the rowdy throng. “There’s no need for any more men.” Henry motioned toward the drawing room. “Jack’s in there.” At least he hoped he was.
It occurred to Henry that Jack might have made an abrupt departure under cover of all the commotion. That is if Miranda didn’t keep a pistol trained on him.
But when he followed the two men into the room, there sat Jack, looking as relaxed as you please. Beside him, her deep blue eyes wide, was Miranda. There was no gun in sight.
“How are you gentlemen? This is certainly a surprise.” Jack stood and gave a formal bow. “I realize the hour is late, but would you care for some refreshment... some Madeira perhaps?”
“ ‘Tis not wine that brought us here.”
“I’m arresting you in the name of the king.” Joshua Peterson stepped forward. He was a small man, near a head shorter than Jack, but he puffed his barrel chest out in importance. “You won’t get to slip away this time, Gentleman Jack. We know all about you and Miranda Chadwick.”
Jack arched his brow. “You do?”
“Aye, we do. And once we have you in chains I’m certain we’ll find many other things about your profession of interest to the Admiralty.”
Jack wished he hadn’t tied his cravat so tightly. But he didn’t loosen it. He only smiled, the humor not quite reaching his smoky eyes. “My dealings with Mistress Chadwick are private. But as you can plainly see, she is here and perfectly safe.”
“Only because you brought her back,” Peterson countered.
“You know, then.” Miranda stood and pressed a lace handkerchief to her eyes.
Jack turned and gawked at her. He barely resisted grabbing her around her slender neck. They had agreed—actually, he’d demanded—that she be quiet unless it was absolutely necessary for her to speak. And it sure as hell wasn’t necessary now. Besides, she sounded as if she planned to corroborate what the king’s revenuer was saying. “Miranda.” Jack stepped toward her, annoyed when the runty Peterson made a move to protect her. “You needn’t say anything.”
“Oh, but I must.” She lowered the handkerchief enough for Jack to notice there wasn’t a tear in her eyes. But she also kept prudently out of his reach. “I must tell the truth, Jack.”
God’s blood, he could hardly breathe. Jack couldn’t help it. He yanked on the stylish Steinkirk knot of his, cravat. “Henry.” Jack’s tone was tight. Surely he could do something about his daughter.
“Miranda, dear, perhaps you should go upstairs and rest,” Henry suggested.
“No.” Miranda managed to evade her father’s hands. “I intend to tell them.” She sniffed delicately, fighting the smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth. The pirate and her father seemed ready to explode. Miranda turned away from them and faced the king’s men. “I ran away with Jack Blackstone.”
“What?”
Miranda could swear four voices echoed the same word.
“Jack didn’t want anyone to know.” She sniffed again. “He’s so concerned for my reputation, you know. However, that’s the truth of it. I’m a wanton woman.”
Her announcement left the room momentarily silent. Joshua Peterson was the first to speak. “But I had word from someone very reliable that there’d been a kidnapping.”
“Jack himself probably,” Miranda said. “He was adamant about protecting me. He’s the reason we’re here now. The reason we slipped ashore in the middle of the night. Jack insisted upon bringing me back to my father.” Miranda slanted the pirate a look, pleased that he seemed so unsure of what was going on. She decided to make him a little more bewildered, and possibly retaliate just a little for what he’d put her t
hrough.
“He, of course, insisted that we marry.” His expression was all she hoped for. “And perhaps we shall... someday.”
“There will be no someday about it.” Henry stepped forward. “The agreement was tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow!” Jack and Miranda turned toward Henry as one.
“God’s blood!” Jack swore.
“Now, Papa, we didn’t actually decide upon a date.” She’d only mentioned marriage to give the pirate captain a fright. Regardless that his touch could make her feel as if she’d taken flight, she had no intention of actually wedding the rogue.
“I’m not seeing what the problem is here,” Graham Hicks said as he accepted the wine Henry offered. “You ran away to be with Captain Blackstone, did you not?”
“Well... yes I did.”
“And it nearly broke my heart, too,” Henry injected, before handing a goblet to Joshua Peterson. He ignored the angry look his daughter gave him.
“Captain Blackstone.” The king’s revenuer took a sip of Madeira. “You brought Mistress Chadwick back to marry her, didn’t you?”
Jack looked at Peterson, then at Hicks. He scratched his neck. “Aye. That was my intent.”
“Then, I see no reason for delay.” This from Henry, who had positioned himself between the two defenders of the law. “Especially under the circumstances.”
Lord, protect him from fathers. Jack clenched his jaw. That’s what this was all about. He had ravished Henry’s daughter, and now he was to pay the price. Marriage. And if they all weren’t careful, he might pay with his life.
He’d already accepted the idea of marrying Miranda Chadwick, if only because of the guilt he felt, but she didn’t seem to embrace the notion at all. Her earlier refusal still rang in his ears. And by the looks of her—her eyes as wide as saucers and her round chin angled up—she was close to voicing her rejection once again.
And what would be the consequences if she did?
Neither Joshua Peterson nor Graham Hicks were stupid men. If Miranda shied away from marriage, they’d wonder why. And eventually come to the fairly obvious conclusion that she was lying about running away with him. Who in their right mind would run away on a pirate ship anyway?