“I cannot gainsay you,” I said with a shrug.
“But you would make the attempt if you felt you held the ground?” he asked.
“Aye, I would.”
“Why do you dislike me?” Morgan asked with speculative eyes and a note of sincere curiosity.
“You are an ambitious man who has seized upon using the Brethren to further your own greed for glory and gold, or perhaps not gold in and of itself, but for power,” I said honestly.
He bridled at this, yet he scratched his mustache calmly and said, “I am a leader of men; the Brethren needed a leader in order to achieve their goals of having enough to gold to keep themselves drunk through every storm season. I am not the first to organize them.”
“Aye, and though I have heard good of Myngs and Mansfield, I think it likely I would not like them, either,” I said with a shrug.
“You have not heard good of me?” he asked with feigned amusement.
I smirked. “Aye, I have heard much good of you, from sheep who are unwise in the ways of wolves.”
He chuckled with true amusement. “And what are you, my friend?”
I shrugged. “Just a fool who cares about such things.”
He considered me for a moment in silence, with a slight cock of his head. Beside him, Bradley appeared quite uncomfortable with the entire topic.
“Will you be sailing with us?” Morgan asked at last.
“Aye, my matelot and I will.”
He snorted. “Why?”
“I have no reason to remain in port. Worry not; I am not a leader of men. I offer you no challenge,” I assured him.
At first he snorted dismissively, but then he sobered and said with odd candor, “That is good to hear.” With that he left me, an anxious Bradley in his wake.
I was thankfully next descended on by Sarah.
“We must speak,” Sarah said as she towed me toward a corner where Rucker stood waiting. “Or rather, you must speak to another.”
“After you have told me what to say?” I teased.
We reached the corner and she turned to me. “First, did you find Striker?”
“Nay,” I said sadly. “I had not time to mount the search myself, and apparently the efforts of all others who sought him were in vain. Pete was drunk and unconscious upon our ship. So, as of when I left for the ceremony, they had not spoken.”
She sighed. “Well, I guess there is nothing to be done of that now. Now, you must speak to our uncle.”
“He has become quite intent upon your sister marrying,” Rucker said. “He is inviting suitors from the planters.”
“He made it quite clear he expects me to entertain them,” she said bitterly.
“That is quite annoying,” I said.
“He also harbors many notions concerning the management of plantations which I hope are not in keeping with yours,” Rucker added.
“Else you failed to raise me properly,” I said with a smile. “I would imagine he does, being who and what he is: a product of his upbringing. He was indeed raised by wolves, as my father was and their father before them. I will do what I can to mitigate the matter of the plantation, but I can do little until such time as it is mine; and that will not occur, according to my father, until I produce an heir. And even then, I do not trust him not to delay it.”
“Aye,” Rucker said tiredly. “That is why it is all such a pity.”
“I know,” I sighed. “You kindled high hopes in me that day we spoke, when you reminded me I would inherit. I began to think I could do good with his title. But now… Now I am using my title as viscount to insure that the men I sail with are fairly granted land, and to battle that bastard Morgan where I can, to save what remains of the bondsmen I brought here from starvation and sickness, and to rescue the Negroes being purchased for Ithaca from abject slavery in the bargain. I strive to do what I can in the name of justice as opportunities present themselves. I should do more, but I know not how without devoting myself to an even more ruinous course that will lead to my misery, and I am afraid I lack the faith of a martyr.”
Rucker smiled warmly. “If it is any consolation, I am proud of what small part I played in you becoming the man you have.” He clapped my shoulder. “You will do well by those you can. No one can ask more.”
“I can ask more,” I said.
I looked about the room and spied Morgan and Modyford. I wanted to battle Morgan. I wanted to threaten his reign. I wanted to do a great many revolutionary things. But to do so would require sending Gaston and I and our precious chariot careening into battle. I did not know if we were that strong, yet.
“I would truly endeavor to do much more if I were the only one I need consider,” I added.
“And that is why you are a good man,” Sarah said with a kind smile.
As I gazed upon my bride, who stood pretending to be smiling and happy among our guests, I did not feel I was a good man. I was minded of the conversation Gaston and I had once had: no matter how often people say a thing, one will not hear it if it is not the thing one chooses to hear, often because of a feeling that they are misguided. I feel I am quite selfish. True, much of my life was devoted to another, but it was in the name of my own happiness, as I knew I would be in misery without him. I was not sure how that made me a good man in the face of all mankind.
Sarah disrupted my ruminations with a disgruntled noise, and I returned my attention to her and Rucker. We were being joined by Uncle Cedric and two newly arrived guests: one old, the other young. As they bore a resemblance to one another, I assumed they were father and son.
“Ah, Mister Grisholm,” my uncle was saying, “here is my fine nephew, the Viscount of Marsdale, and my niece, Miss Williams. Marsdale, Sarah, this is Mister Charles Grisholm. He owns a plantation in Clarendon. And this is his son, Mister John Grisholm. Mister Grisholm the younger is of your age, Sarah, and he wishes to speak with you.”
Rucker slipped away before I could correct my uncle’s omission and introduce him.
My sister smiled sweetly and curtsied properly for the Grisholm men.
“I am pleased to make your acquaintance, gentlemen,” I said with my own pleasant smile. “However, if you will excuse me, I must speak with my uncle for a moment.”
I grabbed my uncle by the elbow and steered him away. “Uncle, we obviously have not had a chance to speak as of yet, but I feel the need to inquire now as to why you are so quick to introduce Sarah to the somewhat-eligible young men. I have heard you seem set upon it.”
He sighed heavily, and the public affability he had been maintaining for the last hour departed with the air from his lungs. “Marsy, she told you all? That she shot him and he was burned? Well, I heard from the surgeons that he would likely not die.”
“Aye, and he will be meaner now than he ever was before,” I said.
His deep blue eyes were serious. “I fear he will come here. I fear your father will do nothing.”
“It is a fear I have as well,” I sighed. It was a thing I had not chosen to give much thought to as of yet, with all else that had occurred since she told me her tale. “How injured was he? Could he be on your heels?” I asked.
“Nay, I think not,” he said quickly and with assurance. “It should have been months before he could travel. And perhaps he will not seek her, or you, but…”
“If he is scarred he might well want vengeance. I know,” I sighed. “He never had reason to seek me out, as he did me far more harm than I did him; but Sarah is another matter.”
“I have spent several months sailing here thinking just that,” he said. “I wish for her to be protected.”
I frowned. “I will protect her.”
Then I saw my words as foolish. I was going to sail off and leave them here. Once again, from being selfish, but I truly thought it best that Gaston did not remain here, not with the Damn Bride about and all of that. I did not wish to remain here due to that.
“It was my understanding that you go adventuring…” my uncle was saying.
“I do,” I said quickly. “I do, and I have commitments to that end. Something will have to be arranged…”
“That is why I wish for her to marry,” he said urgently. “And truly, I feel her interest would be best served in the matter of Shane if you were not involved.”
I met his gaze. “I will kill him, and here I feel it could be arranged so that I might not be in legal peril for it.”
He shook his head. “I do not wish to see that day, Marsy. And… It might not just be your cousin that we face in the matter. If she is married, your father will not be able to so easily come to claim her himself.”
I was aghast. “What?”
“He was overwrought when we left. Sarah did not see him the day I made the arrangements for us to travel. She has not seen him since the night of the incident. Your father is distraught; he feels he has driven her away.”
“He has,” I protested, “as he did me, over his love of Shane, who he seems Hell-bent on placing above his own children.”
“I know, I know,” my uncle said sadly. “I see that now. I will make no excuse for him on the matter. But I do know him somewhat, and I am afraid he will come here and attempt to make amends. If Sarah is married, and even more fortuitously, with child, I do not feel he will be such the fool as to attempt to bring her home to assuage his guilt.”
I was incredulous, but I realized he spoke the truth of the matter. Still...
“He would not,” I said. “I feel he would not be such the fool in the face of public inquiry as to why he angered another family. Yet, sadly, I feel there is no family of rank on Jamaica that could suitably ride to battle against him in such a matter.”
He sighed. “We are not Papists, Marsy; she cannot join a convent somewhere in Christendom and thus be hidden away.”
“Nay, but marrying her to some planter’s son will not solve the problem. If marriage is the solution, she needs to be married to a man who would stand up to Father, even if it meant his ruin, and then be willing and able to shoot Shane should it be necessary.” I laughed. “And I know just the man, but he must sail too.”
And then the reason Striker must sail occurred to me.
“Come,” I told my uncle, “let us find her protectors. You must trust me on this and not argue.”
“But Marsy…” he said as I led him to Theodore, who was speaking to an older man I did not know.
“I am sorry to interrupt; will you accompany us, please?” I asked my friend.
Theodore excused himself and followed.
Modyford and Morgan were chatting by the liquor sideboard and seemed surprised at our abrupt appearance.
“Gentlemen,” I said with a bow, “I have a matter I must discuss with you. For it, I request your discretion as gentlemen, as it involves my family.”
The governor nodded with interest, but Morgan’s mouth fell open.
“As you may have been apprised, my sister and bride, and my uncle here, left England rather quickly. The reason for this has much to do with my sister, but not for reasons one might assume involving a young lady; quite the contrary in fact. We have a second cousin on my father’s side named Jacob Shane. He was orphaned as a boy, and my father, being his godfather, took him into our house and raised him as a son. However, Shane wishes to inherit, and while I live, that will not occur. To that end, he sought to marry my sister. She refused him due to information I provided her. Shane and I dislike each other intensely for reasons that are not germane to this matter, other than his being a violent and evil man who my father happens to be very fond of.”
A small smile played about both of my listener’s lips, and I thought whatever conclusions they might draw from that would be fine.
“Shane was extremely angry at my sister’s refusal,” I continued, “and he made to do her harm. She shot him, and in the resulting fight, he was badly burned from a falling lamp. He still lives, but we feel this has made him meaner than ever. That whole unfortunate incident is the reason for my sister’s precipitous departure from England.”
“Do you feel he will come here?” Modyford asked with sincere concern.
“We think it a likely eventuality, though not soon,” I said.
“What of your father?” he asked.
“He is somewhat … conflicted over the matter. He is far fonder of Shane than of me, and as I did not choose to live in my father’s home for many years, my cousin is deeply involved in my father’s business dealings, as I would have been if I had been his favored son.”
“My Lord, my Lord,” Modyford said thoughtfully. “What would you have of us?”
“As my cousin is a danger that may or may not arrive, and will affect few if he does – and Spain is a constant threat to us all, which must be taught that we are a force to be reckoned with in these West Indies...” In that I was using his own words. “I feel it is best if I sail, that I am of far more use to Jamaica using my sword against the Spanish than I would be sitting about here waiting for my cousin to arrive at some unknown future date.”
Modyford nodded agreeably.
“And so,” I continued, “since I will not be about, my uncle thought it best my sister be married into one of the families here on the island. I think that fine in concept; however, I do not feel that a young man who does not rove will have sufficient force of will to deal with a foe such as my cousin. So I would see her marry a man who does, and there is one I know who would be willing to marry her, and who she would be willing to accept: Captain James Striker.”
Morgan and Modyford grinned.
“Who?” my uncle asked.
“He is one of our captains who has shown great promise,” Modyford said quickly. “He is intelligent and has a talent for leading men. He is also a ship owner, and I have just granted him a large parcel of land, and he could well ask for more.”
I suppressed a smile that Modyford should so quickly ally with me in the cause.
“He has also approached me about the viability of starting a business venture, to secure more ships and begin shipping cargo,” Theodore added.
“Even more wonderful,” Modyford said.
“He sounds like a fine man,” my uncle said with a shrug. “If you vouch for him, Marsdale, and you say Sarah will have him.”
“She will,” I said, “and I will be proud to have him as a brother-in-law.”
“But… he is sailing with us, too,” Morgan said.
“Aye, to that end, though it is unlikely my cousin will arrive this spring, I would like to know if Jamaica herself could offer some assistance in the matter of providing my sister sufficient protection – while her husband and brother go to make war with the Spanish in the name of our common defense.”
Modyford was no fool. He chuckled heartily. “I am sure we can arrange something. Would she require anything else?”
“Striker should build a suitable dwelling for her,” Theodore said. “He will need a plot of land in town.”
“Let us look at the available plots tomorrow,” Modyford said.
“Large enough to house men to watch over her, in addition to a growing family if they should be so blessed,” I added.
“Of course,” Modyford said. “Most of the land in town is owned, however.”
“Money is not an issue when it comes to my sister’s happiness,” I said.
Theodore turned away with a fit of coughing.
I joined him to pat his back, and found him attempting to suppress laughter as I had suspected.
“You should watch how you swallow, good man,” I said. “That rum punch is quite strong.”
“Damn good thing you married well,” he whispered.
“Damn good thing he lets me speak for him,” I whispered back.
“Aye, but does Striker, or have things occurred of which I know not?”
“Certain events occurred this morning of which you are not aware. Still, this will come as something of a surprise to him. And I feel Pete will likely try and kill me.”
That last was
a truer thought than I wished to face.
In time, I was at last able to deliver myself from Morgan and Modyford and their plans for a stronger Jamaica. Avoiding my bride, I worked my way back around the room to my sister and delivered her from several young male admirers. She was quite surprised when I told her the outcome of my maneuverings since last I stood at her side. As I recounted what I had accomplished, I was overcome once again with the unsettled feeling that I should not have meddled and all of my attempts at philanthropy were to be found ill-considered in hindsight.
“And Striker knows none of this?” she asked with dismay when I finished.
“Nay.”
“And Uncle seems accepting?” she asked with wonder.
“Well, he has not met Striker yet,” I sighed.
“And you did not see it necessary to consult me first?” This time there were the beginnings of anger in her tone and expression.
“Nay, I thought it what you wanted, and…” I sighed heavily. “In the future I shall, of course, consult you before making life-altering decisions on your behalf.”
“I do not want this if he does not want it,” she said adamantly. “I will not have my needs… such as they might be, foisted upon him. And if you feel I am in so much in danger, why will you not stay to care for me?”
And there it was. “Because… as Gaston told you, he is mad,” I said carefully. “He should not remain in port… among civilized men. And though he wishes for me to marry, it is best he not remain about my Bride. It is best I not remain about her…”
This damped her anger, but fueled her curiosity.
“How is he mad?” she demanded quietly. “He said…”
“He is prone to losing control of his reason, or rather of losing the ability to have reason control the bestial side of his nature that all men contain. When he does lose that control, he poses a threat, both to himself and to those around him, especially if they are the object of his ire.”
She was frowning. “I know nothing of madness. I do not understand how a man as composed and kind as you have portrayed Gaston to be, and as I have witnessed of him, could pose a threat to himself or others.”
“I hope you shall never see it grip him such that you would understand,” I said. “I would rather not divulge specific examples, but you may ask Striker, or Theodore even. For that matter, you can ask most about town. All will tell you they have heard of the madness of Gaston the Ghoul.”
Matelots Page 47