by Sea Fires
Jack looked from Hicks to King, and back again. His voice was deceptively low when he spoke. “Mr. Hicks, I don’t believe you understand. Mr. King is a member of my crew and an invited guest.”
“That don’t make any difference. He’s a Negro... could be an escaped slave for all I know.”
“Mr. King is a free man. You have my word on that.”
The constable snorted his opinion of Jack’s veracity, and Jack’s fingers relaxed around the hilt of his sword. Hicks saw the action and reached for his own weapon, but in the next instant, his arm was bumped by an apologetic Miranda.
“I’m so sorry, Constable Hicks,” she said, smiling at him. “Jack, dear, what is the delay? My father is starting to pace. Oh, hello, King. I’m so glad you could come to our wedding.” Miranda talked while maneuvering herself between the men, forcing them apart. Then she took the blackamoor’s arm and twined her own under it. “Let me find you a seat,” she said, leading him through the group. Constable Hicks stepped aside, and the rest of the pirate crew followed Miranda and her escort.
Jack could only stand and stare.
By the time the ceremony began, Miranda was tired and irritable. She wanted nothing more than a quiet corner where she could read, or perhaps study a specimen under her microscope. The Anglican minister’s voice droned on, and Miranda sighed. This entire thing was so foolish, so... Miranda’s head turned ever so slightly, and her eyes met Jack’s. At that moment, something happened to Miranda, something that she didn’t expect and couldn’t explain logically or otherwise.
It was as if she just realized exactly what she was doing. Marrying Captain Blackstone before man and God.
She and her grandfather had often discussed religion, mostly how it related to science. She had no strong opinion about which religion was the right one, partly because she’d studied several. Don Luis was Catholic, and though she knew countries fought over such things as religious supremacy, Miranda thought that very foolish. She didn’t consider herself by any means devout, and that was probably why the feelings flooding through her were so illogical.
Words drifted through the clergyman’s litany. Words such as love and honor and obey. Words she was promising Captain Blackstone. Words he was promising her.
He was holding her hand. It wasn’t a romantic act. He’d been told to do it. But no one suggested he squeeze her fingers, or stare intently into her eyes. It was as if he felt it too, this strange, steadfast sensation that came over her.
They stood before the altar, and the cleric’s voice seemed to fade away. Miranda imagined she could feel the captain’s heartbeat racing toward her through his hand. And miraculously, it matched her own.
She could smell him, wild and free. Remembered how it felt to be touched by him, to become one with him, and in that moment she realized it was happening. She was becoming one with him. It was a mystical, magical feeling, and quite strange for a woman who believed only in logic and reason.
The minister stopped speaking and folded his hands, and Miranda expected the sensation to pass, but it didn’t. She found herself returning the captain’s smile, and even leaning into him when he gave her a quick hug.
After that her father came forward to kiss her cheek, and somehow with the mix of people pushing around them, Miranda became separated from her new husband. She saw him again, briefly, on their ride back to her father’s house. Again she sat beside her father.
But this time they shared the coach with the captain’s uncle, who monopolized Captain Blackstone’s attention with talk of St. Augustine. Through the snatches of conversation Miranda was able to hear while pretending to listen to her father, she gathered Robert was very anxious for his nephew to go to St. Augustine.
It was also clear that his going there had naught to do with pirating coin. Through her lashes, Miranda watched her husband’s jaw clench and his face grow taut with rage. She’d seen that expression before... when he’d listened to the Indian. Right before the captain had decided to return her to Charles Town.
“Are you listening to me, daughter?”.
“Oh, yes, Papa... what did you say?”
“I said it was a lovely wedding. Now things can settle down.”
Miranda was saved from responding when the coach stopped under the magnolia tree in front of the house. Captain Blackstone alighted and almost as an afterthought reached back in for her. It was obvious if he’d felt anything for her during the wedding ceremony, it had faded in the heat of his anger. What could make him so enraged?
She didn’t know, but Miranda was certain it had something to do with where he was going. It was like a scientific puzzle. She’d gathered bits of information, and using the rules of logic she’d discover the answer.
Unfortunately, the reception at her father’s house didn’t seem to be the place to do research. It was an odd mix of people who crowded out into the garden behind the house.
When her mother was still alive, she occasionally held garden parties at the estate in Essex. Miranda was permitted to join the festivities, though even at such a tender age she preferred the stimulation of her grandfather’s library to the gaiety of her mother’s soirees.
But those parties had been nothing like this one. Probably because her mother had never invited pirates, Miranda decided, as she set off to speak with Phin. He was leaning against a column, Nat by his side. Both men were stuffing sliced ham into their mouths. Miranda noticed their pockets bulged with meat.
“I want to thank you again for coming, Phin, and bringing everyone with you.”
“It were—” Finding he couldn’t talk with his mouth crammed full, Phin swallowed, some of the savory ham and continued. “It were real nice a ye to invite us.”
“I thought it only fitting since you are...” Miranda hesitated over the word husband, “since you are Captain Blackstone’s crew... and my friend.”
Phin couldn’t suppress a grin, then gathered several sweet cakes into his gnarled hands.
Miranda took a deep breath. “I was wondering about the destination of your next cruise.”
“Ye mean, St. Augustine?” Sugar icing whitened Phin’s beard.
“Yes, that’s the one. Why are you going there?” Miranda hesitated. “It’s Spanish.”
Phin’s eyes watered as he swallowed and gulped. “Aye, it is And so’s de Segovia.”
He nearly spat the name and Miranda searched her mind. Where had she heard it before? “Who is—”
“Ye got some real tasty vittles here,” Phin said. His eyes narrowed, though he kept his smile in place. “Ye wanta know more ‘bout that damn Spaniard, I’m thinkin’ ye should be askin’ yer husband.”
Phin didn’t seem to have any trouble referring to his captain as Miranda’s husband. She wet her suddenly dry lips. “Perhaps you’re right.”
But the pirate captain was now bent toward her father, and neither seemed anxious for an interruption. Besides, she had a better idea. Skirting several ladies of Charles Town who didn’t appear to know exactly how to react toward her, Miranda headed for the captain’s uncle.
He was tall, like his nephew, but not nearly so large. He watched her approach, his head cocked to one side, and Miranda realized she didn’t really care for him. Which was uncharacteristic. She had disagreements with people, of course, and the pirates she’d disliked at first because of what they were, but this was different. It was deep seeded, and totally irrational. He even stepped forward to meet her and bowed low over her hand. But she couldn’t shake off her feeling of unease.
Her grandfather would have labeled it an intuition and summarily dismissed it. Miranda tried.
“I didn’t realize until today that my... husband had an uncle in Charles Town.” Miranda didn’t add that there were many things she didn’t know about the pirate captain.
“Ah, yes. I fear Jack and I are all that’s left of the Blackstones who came here from Scotland.”
“That’s a shame. How many of them were there?”
“My brother,
his wife and children.” Robert Blackstone smiled down at her. “Jack and his sister,” he explained. “We came to the New World seeking a better life, but alas, it ended tragically.”
“What happened?”
Robert sighed. “The Spanish from St. Augustine attacked one day, killing most everyone. The rest Don Diego de Segovia took prisoner.”
There was that name again. “Were you taken prisoner?”
“No.” His smile hardened till Miranda thought it seemed more like a sneer. “I was away from the settlement.”
“I see.”
“It is something I’ve had to live with since that day.”
“What happened to Captain Blackstone?”
“Why don’t you ask your husband that question?”
Miranda stiffened as the deep voice floated over her left shoulder. She turned and tilted her head, staring up at Jack Blackstone. He was smiling, but no mirth touched the stormy green of his eyes. “I was just —”
“I heard you.”
“Oh.” Obviously he didn’t like being the topic of conversation.
“Your father wishes to see you.” Jack took Miranda’s arm. “Will you excuse us, Uncle Robert?”
“But my father is by the punch bowl,” Miranda protested as Jack pulled her along toward the piazza. He ignored her, and made only the briefest comment to several men who offered their congratulations. When he shut the door, effectively sealing them off from the crush of guests, Jack turned to his bride.
“What is it that you wish to know?”
“... I don’t understand.”
His golden brow arched. “You forget that I’m somewhat acquainted with you. You’re asking questions about me—of Phin, of Robert. Perhaps you should simply ask me.”
Miranda lifted her chin. “Will you answer them... truthfully?” She couldn’t forget how he’d lied to her before.
“Perhaps.” The corners of his mouth lifted slightly.
“I want to know about de Segovia!” She saw the hint of a smile disappear and anger darken his eyes.
“Why?”
Miranda hesitated. She really couldn’t answer that. She simply wanted to know. “I think you’re trying to find him.”
Jack held her gaze a moment. “Again, why should you care?”
“Well, I am your wife.” The words were out of her mouth before Miranda could stop them. She could tell they shocked the captain as much as they did her. “I mean...” She tried to come up with an explanation but could think of nothing.
“This really doesn’t concern you, Miranda.”
“You wanted to know why I didn’t ask you.” Miranda turned away from him. “This is why. I didn’t think you’d tell me.”
He caught her before she moved two steps. “He’s the man who killed my parents, and captured my sister and myself.” Jack answered quickly, then wondered why he bothered at all.
“You escaped?”
“Obviously.”
Miranda ignored the sarcasm. “And now you’re going back for him. But why?”
“My sister didn’t escape.”
Miranda bit on the end of her thumbnail. “But anything could have happened to her in—how long ago was this?”
“Twelve years.”
“Twelve years?” Her eyes widened. “But surely you can’t hope to—”
“You asked why I was going after de Segovia, and I told you.”
Miranda had more questions, but with a sweep of his hand, her husband indicated the interview was over. Miranda sighed, having no choice but to lead him back into the garden.
“There ye be,” Phin bellowed as soon as the door opened. “I was thinkin’ ye done sneaked off ‘fore I could raise me hand in a toast.”
To Miranda’s thinking, Phin had already raised his hand too many times. But he draped one arm about her shoulders and the other around his captain’s waist, explaining how it was the quartermaster’s duty to salute the health and success of a wedding.
“Phin, I don’t think it’s necessary to—”
“Now, Cap’n, I knows me duty.” Phin untangled his arm from around Miranda, managing to push her toward Jack in the process. She fell against his chest and stayed there. Phin gave a sharp yell, gaining everyone’s attention. “To the cap’n and his bride.” Phin held up a silver goblet that looked too delicate for his hand, then downed its contents in one gulp.
Most of the guests took a moment to exchange glances, then followed suit.
“Now ye need to give her a good kiss.” Phin tried to shove the newlyweds even closer together. “Phin, you’ve had too much to drink.”
“And when has that ever bothered ye, Cap’n, ‘cepten when I be on duty, and ye knows I don’t overindulge. ‘Sides, drinkin’s the right of ev’ry red-blooded pir—”
“If it’s a kiss you want,” Jack yelled, trying to cut off and drown out Phin’s last word. God’s blood, the man was loose-lipped when he was pie-eyed drunk. “It’s a kiss you shall get.” Jack swung Miranda around in his arms, hoping against hope that the constable didn’t hear the word pirate from Phin’s lips.
To the cheers of his men, and the shocked “ahhs” of several ladies, Jack leaned Miranda over his arms and kissed her soundly on the lips. A soft sound escaped her, one of surprise... of yielding. Her mouth opened, and before Jack could think, his tongue shot inside. Her body quivered, then seemed to melt into his. He could feel her arms slide up his to wrap around his neck and her fingers dig into his hair. And all thoughts of why he was doing this fled his head.
She was warm and soft and smelled more exotic than the mid-summer garden. Her scent seemed to envelop him as surely as his body surrounded her. It made him lightheaded. Ready to sink with her to the crushed-shell walkway.
He remembered what it felt like to lie with her, to touch her delicate body and sink into her heat. Blood pounded in his ears, boiled and raced to his groin. And all the while Jack’s mouth devoured Miranda’s, savoring the sweet honey of her.
Jack’s hands roamed along her back, the silk warm and smooth like the flesh below, pressing her ever more tightly into his embrace. And she came willingly, ardently.
All he knew, was the overpowering need that seemed to invade him, consume him, every time they touched.
Until he felt something hard and claw-like bite into his shoulder. Jack twisted, and reality flooded over him in one fearful and totally embarrassing moment. Henry’s hand gripped his shoulder, and the smile on his lips didn’t disguise the anger in his eyes. Miranda clung to him, her body limp and flushed, her breathing ragged. Jack could almost see her mind working, trying to formulate the question she would ask.
What happened? That would most definitely be it. And Lord, he wished he knew. One minute he’d been stopping Phin from getting them all hung by blurting out they were pirates, and the next he was soundly kissing his wife in front of a score of gaping people.
Jack’s gaze drifted out across them. Every last person gathered under the live oaks shading the garden appeared stunned... and that included his crew. God’s blood, he’d shocked a band of pirates!
Jack’s laugh was forced, and his voice huskier than usual. “Well, you wanted a kiss, a kiss you got.”
At first only silence greeted his words; but then gradually a few guests chuckled, then a few more, and eventually most of them drifted off toward the long food-laden table.
But not Henry. He stood his ground like a bulldog. Under Jack’s leveled glare he did remove his hand from Jack’s shoulder. But his tone was irate and fierce, though low enough not to be heard by the other guests. “Just what did you think you were doing?”
“Kissing my wife.” Jack gnashed out the words. He moved to walk away; but Henry blocked his path, and though Jack could have pushed him aside, it would have caused a scene... another scene.
“Listen to me,” Jack began. “Phin was about to announce to everyone that we are pirates. I didn’t think any of us would like that, so I did something to distract him.”
“
Maul my daughter?”
“Nay.” Jack’s eyes narrowed. “Kiss my wife.” Jack forced himself to remain calm. “If you recall, Henry, the fact that she is my wife is your doing. Now, I suggest you leave it be.” With that Jack walked away.
“I’m sorry, daughter.” Henry let out his breath, and his shoulders sloped forward. “I never meant for any of this to happen.” His eyes met hers. “I never wanted you hurt.”
“I know that, Papa. And I’m fine, really.” Miranda smiled, though her knees still felt weak. “It was, after all, only a kiss.” Her father nodded his agreement, but Miranda didn’t think he meant it. And she certainly knew better. Captain Blackstone had touched her, and she’d lost all sense of reality.
“And, Papa, Phin was about to announce that they were pirates.” Miranda whispered the last word.
Henry let out his breath. “I should have told you of my involvement from the beginning. I’ve caused all this.”
“Nothing bad has happened.” Miranda touched her father’s sleeve. “Really.”
Jack stood off to himself and watched Miranda and her father. He should apologize to her. But that would mean being around her, and right now he didn’t want to do that. Strange things happened to him when she was close.
“Cap’n.”
Jack turned to see Phin— a contrite Phin, standing at his elbow. His head was lowered, and his felt hat was smashed between two gnarled hands. “I’m askin’ yer forgiveness for what I said. I nearly got us all hung.”
“That you did, Phin.”
“ ‘Twas the drink, Cap’n. Now, I knows that ain’t no excuse, but...” He shifted his feet, smashing grass beneath his salt-stained boots.
“Let’s just forget it, Phin. Neither of us belong here, and the sooner we leave the better.”
“Like I said earlier, the Sea Hawk’s at the ready.”
“Good. We’ll sail with the morning tide, then.” Jack tore his gaze away from Miranda to smile at Phin.
“I knows what ye said earlier, but ain’t no reason ye has to be on board tonight.”
“What?” A moment ago, he’d forgiven Phin for almost getting them all hung. Now the old man thought he needed to arrange Jack’s wedding night. “No. Never mind. Don’t repeat yourself.”