Into His Arms

by Paula Reed

The girl looked up at him and flushed. Whether ‘twas guilt or anger, Geoff could not tell, and she fled before he could determine. He was sorely tempted to take the man to task for speaking so harshly to her, but he smelled money and a sizeable sale.

  “I must say,” the merchant said, resuming their previous conversation, “I didn’t expect to see you here, what with so much gold for the taking in Panama. Surely you were there for the raid last winter?”

  His question did nothing to soothe Geoff’s irritation. “Aye, so I was. But the Spaniards had taken most of the treasure from Panama City in earlier ships. As for what was left—Captain Henry Morgan saw to the loading of it, and most of the gold went with him and his cronies. We were fortunate to have been left our vessel. As fate would have it, we encountered a small Spanish merchant ship in the Windward Passage between Cuba and Hispaniola.”

  “The source of this fine merchandise?” His companion gestured broadly at the array of items that surrounded them—casks of rum, bolts of silk, spices, costly trinkets that had once graced fair Spanish women.

  Geoff smiled humorlessly. “He was outnumbered four to one when we boarded, so the captain was most generous with us.”

  “‘Tis sure the Spaniards will be cursing your names for years to come.”

  “Aye, I suppose so. For now they’ll be busy enough rebuilding Panama City. The entire place is naught but ashes now.”

  The merchant chuckled. “Well, however you may think of Captain Morgan, the king is sure to love him. More gold for England’s coffers, less for Spain’s. My wife insists that buying from privateers is the same as stealing. By my reckoning, you’re God’s way of diverting funds from the Catholic Church, corrupt old whore that she is.”

  “Well, it would be a lie if I said that I cared about the politics of it,” Geoff replied. Somehow he doubted that the merchant cared much about the politics or religion either. They were convenient excuses for profiting from plunder. Mayhap Geoff was little better than a pirate, but at least he was honest about it. “Still, Morgan could never have done it alone. Show a brave Englishman your favor and take some of this off my hands.”

  He spent the morning haggling with merchants and giving the earnings over to Giles Courtney, the ship’s quartermaster, to be divided up later. They sailed on the morrow, and he intended to enjoy the afternoon and evening. Boston lacked the vast array of entertainment available in Port Royal, Jamaica, but there was sure to be a willing wench somewhere.

  In the back of his mind he could not rid himself of the merchant’s hypocrisy or the maid’s blush at having been chastised for so little a sin as admiring a bolt of silk. Hell of a curse, that, to live in Massachusetts. On a lark, he held back one item, and he tucked it beneath his arm as he strolled, his brown eyes with their golden flecks scanning the crowd.

  *

  Beyond his view, Faith wended her way through the throng, listening to blends of Dutch, English, and a bit of Portuguese, when a heavy Cockney accent caught her attention.

  “Aye, it’s been a profi’able journey, but I’m fer gettin’ back to Port Royal. The rum’s cheap and the wenches willin’. The fair ship Destiny sails at dawn, and I’ll be ‘ome with gold in me pockets.”

  “Is yer cap’n all they say?” his compatriot asked.

  “Aye, fair to a fault, but ‘e fights lik the very divil. Le’ me say, it’s glad I am to be on ‘is side. I’d not like t’meet ‘im at the other end of ‘is cutlass.”

  Faith froze and fought to stem the impulsive thoughts that flooded her rebellious mind. A ship bound for Jamaica that sailed on the morrow! She had asked God for deliverance—was this it? Nay, to follow such a mad path was to disobey her parents and her church! She would have to travel half a world away to a woman she hadn’t even known existed until yesterday! Mayhap she would only be turned away, stranded in a foreign land.

  Sugar and salt. She was here to buy sugar and salt, not to find passage to Jamaica. Besides, she had no coin to pay her way. And he said the captain fought like the devil. What manner of man was this? She could hardly place her trust in the stranger she had heard the man with the Cockney accent describe.

  Spices and seasonings abounded among the street hawkers, and when she was quite certain she had found the thriftiest bargain for the items she needed, she took out the coin to pay for them. The seller had a fresh shipment of cinnamon, as well, and Faith was reminded that she had used nearly the last of theirs on gingerbread the previous day, so she added it to her purchase. She could see her family’s wagon from the street stall, and since Noah was nowhere in sight, she decided to walk a little longer.

  Destiny. The name of the ship rang in her head like a bell, and again came the niggling question whether this was the answer to her prayer. She told herself that she simply wanted a breath of sea air when she wandered out onto the wharf, not leaving until she found the small, elegant brigantine. The sails of the ship’s two masts were furled, but in her mind, Faith could see them filled with wind out upon the high seas.

  *

  Perhaps half an hour later, Faith placed her bags into the wagon. She did not notice the golden-eyed sea captain who stared at her through a tavern window. He had nearly given up looking for her, but now, he rose and gulped the last of his rum. Tossing a coin to the serving wench, he strode to the door.

  Faith, however, never spared the tavern a glance. She simply turned to Noah when he walked up behind her to place a small set of carpenter’s tools next to her purchases.

  “For David,” he explained when she gave him a curious glance.

  Forcing herself to stop thinking of the ship, she turned to her twin and gestured to the tools. “For a seven-year-old?”

  “A common age for an apprentice.”

  Faith sighed. “I suppose it is. He still seems so young to me.”

  Noah looked across the street and waved, then told his sister to wait while he greeted the friend he had spied. She gazed longingly at the ships anchored in the harbor, picking out the twin masts she knew belonged to Destiny. In but a few weeks that ship would sail into warm waters and dock at an island that had never known a hard, cold winter.

  She thought back to her parents’ tales of the time they had spent in the Caribbean. Tales of lush, colorful flowers and bright, loud birds. Springtime in New England had its own charms, to be sure. But on this day, the sea and sky were a leaden gray, heavy colors reflected in the skirts and coats of most of the people who came and went down the busy street. Caught up in these thoughts, it was a moment before she saw the man who had come to stand beside her.

  Geoff gave her his best smile, one that had served him well with the fairer sex, but she only looked at him in confusion. So much for dazzling the girl with his charm, he thought to himself. It was pure folly to be standing there with her at all, but he noticed that she was yet even prettier than he had first realized. And ere she had spied him, there had been such a look of longing in her eyes as she stared out at the harbor. ‘Twas a look he knew well, for he’d seen it in the eyes of many a fresh-faced cabin boy, seeking adventure on the high seas. He doubted not that just such a look had lit his own face from time to time.

  “Aye,” he said to her, “the smell of the sea and the line of the horizon, they stir the blood, do they not?”

  Faith gaped at him in wonder. Had the man read her very mind? Hastily, she searched her memory for any recognition of the handsome stranger before her. He wore a fashionable coat of rich velvet, the shoulders of the garment stretched taut by the shoulders of the man. The hem of the coat and an elaborate gold vest flared over trim hips, brushing the tops of serviceable, well cared for boots. Elegant lace spilled from the neck of his shirt and the wide cuffs of his sleeves, the delicate froth only enhancing his masculine features and competent hands. His hair, surely his own rather than one of the wigs worn by men of fashion, fell over his shoulders in thick, light brown waves streaked golden by the sun. A low-crowned, wide-brimmed hat with an outrageous ostrich feather topped his head. Surely
she would have remembered if her father or brother had done business with such a man!

  He turned gracefully in front of her. “Do I pass inspection?” he asked.

  Faith blushed. She had been staring, no doubt. Gathering her dignity back around her she replied, “Forgive me, do I know you, sir?”

  “Nay, I am Captain Geoffrey Hampton. I could not help but notice you amid my wares outside of the Boston Town House earlier, and I fear my customer chased you away ere you could make up your mind. I have a small token of apology.” He pulled a length of the stunning blue silk from beneath his arm and offered it to her with a courtly bow.

  She raised her golden brows in alarm and looked all around for possible witnesses. “You are too bold! Well you know I cannot possibly accept such a thing!”

  He gave a dramatic sigh and placed his hand over his heart in comic affectation. “It wounds me to see so fair a maid in such a drab gown. Perhaps, then, just for a petticoat?”

  Handsome he might be, but who did this popinjay think he was? Faith strained her neck in an attempt to sight her brother, but her heart sank when she recognized another familiar form striding purposefully in her direction.

  “Please, sir, you will leave at once. You compromise me by your very presence!”

  “Faith Cooper!” the Reverend Williams’s voice bellowed. “Who is this man you meet so boldly at the docks? What business have you with him?”

  “I have no business, Reverend. This man accosted me!”

  “Accosted you? With this silk?”

  Geoff stepped between the girl and the irate clergyman. “I must accept full responsibility. I have a sister in England with just this maid’s coloring. I did but ask if I could view the cloth against her skin. She was just in the midst of giving me a sound dressing-down.”

  The minister narrowed his eyes suspiciously, and his gaze swept Geoff from crown to toe. “Think you that we are so provincial that we can be deceived by the likes of you? This woman is to be my wife! Keep to your dockside harlots and leave good Christian women alone!”

  Geoff looked at the girl. Her face had flushed a deep red and her chin dropped to her chest. Something tugged inside of him, and he lifted that chin to look into her eyes. Her demeanor might have appeared utterly subservient, but in her gaze he saw unexpected mettle. A damned shame, he thought, this extraordinary woman with that irritating little man.

  “Unhand her!” the minister shouted.

  Dropping his hand, Geoff pulled himself up to his full six feet and looked down at the other man, clearly four or five inches shorter, then back to the woman. A damned shame indeed. It was sure this wench would never know a moment of pleasure at the preacher’s holier-than-thou hands, and perhaps more shameful, he didn’t believe the man had the good sense to enjoy her much either.

  “Forgive me, miss. I meant to cause you no trouble.”

  Something powerful welled in Faith’s heart, a consuming urge to seal her fate. Though she was sure to pay for it later, she dazzled him with a friendly smile. “You’ve caused no harm that was not already done, good sir. I wish your sister joy in that new cloth. She will look most fetching, and you shall doubtless be called upon to protect her from the attentions of many a devilish rogue.”

  The nasty little man next to him sputtered, but the captain could not spare a glance from the girl. She would put the fairest angel to shame. Heaven help her betrothed, for this one had a will of her own, and her eyes were those of a woman who had made a momentous decision.

  From the corner of her eye, she spied Noah, who quickened his steps. Faith had recounted the previous day’s events on the way into town, and she was sure that her brother would realize that his sister, Owen Williams, and a handsome stranger were an ill mix.

  “Good day to you, Reverend Williams,” Noah said breathlessly. “I hope there’s been no trouble here.”

  “It is as your sister says, no harm has been done that was not done before. I see that I shall have my work cut out for me. No matter.” His chilling blue gaze settled on Faith. “I shall have you back upon the path of righteousness. Make no mistake about that.”

  The other two men glanced at one another uneasily, but the minister’s cold stare and foreboding words did not touch their intended target. She had well and truly made up her mind; one way or another, she would never marry this man.

  *

  They arrived home shortly after the dinner hour and sat at the table with their parents, even before the dishes were all washed. Noah, clearly worried for his sister’s welfare, repeated the afternoon’s events to their parents. The conversation held little interest for David, as he sat by the fire playing with a wooden horse, but Isaiah listened intently, his eyes wide with concern.

  “Why does the minister not like Faith?” he asked.

  Naomi raised her eyebrows at her husband, and he set his jaw before he turned to his son and replied. “The minister did but misunderstand the situation. He does not dislike Faith. In fact, he’s to be her husband.” Jonathan seemed to try to inject a sense of cheer into the words, but failed miserably.

  Faith sucked in her breath but held her tongue. She knew that if she said one word, she would be entirely unable to stop herself. Instead, she rose abruptly and set to washing the dishes her mother had scraped and stacked earlier. Anger made her careless, and she immediately chipped a heavy, earthenware pitcher.

  Naomi joined her, and carefully taking the pitcher from her daughter’s hands, she pulled Faith away from the task. “Isaiah,” she said, “take David to bed. It wouldn’t hurt you to get a good night’s sleep either.”

  “But Mother,” little David protested, “we have but finished dinner.”

  Isaiah shushed him and took up the wooden horse. “We’ll play awhile, and then I’ll read to you. How about First Samuel, Chapter Seventeen?”

  Even through her anger, Faith had to smile. What a little man Isaiah was becoming. He knew that David never tired of the story of the king for whom he was named and Goliath, the giant he defeated. But as soon as the boys disappeared upstairs, the softness that had touched her heart hardened again.

  She turned abruptly to her father and, despite years of Biblical proscriptions against challenging her parents, asked, “So after all this, I’m to marry him anyway?”

  “It was a misunderstanding, Faith,” he replied tersely.

  She looked to her mother, next. “He accused me of encouraging strange men on the docks of Boston Harbor!” she pleaded. “Am I to spend the rest of my life being so ‘misunderstood’?”

  Naomi shook her head. “I know not what to say to you, child. Ours is a small world here, our choices limited. We must hold fast to our belief in God’s plan, though at times it may be beyond our ken.”

  But there was a much wider world beyond Massachusetts, Faith thought to herself. “And that is to be the end of it?” she asked. “You will do nothing to seek another way?”

  Jonathan ran a rough hand through his graying hair. “I went to Aaron Jacob’s saw mill today.”

  “Aye?” Faith prodded.

  “He has withdrawn his offer. It seems he is no longer sure that the two of you will suit.”

  “He only says that because Reverend Williams has told him to!”

  “George Mayfield and Roger Smith are of similar minds. I have no doubt that ‘twill be the same no matter whom I speak to. Name for me a man in this village who will defy Williams in this.”

  “I can name the man who should,” Faith answered, and though her voice was hardly more than a whisper, it carried loudly in the quiet of the room. She looked at him, her eyes filled with reproach. “Will you not speak for me, Father?”

  Unable to meet her gaze, he studied the back of his hand. “I will not pretend that I like the path this has taken, but it is not for us to question God’s will.”

  “This is not God’s will! ‘Tis the will of Owen Williams!” Faith cried.

  “He is our minister!” Jonathan shouted back. “His will and God’s are on
e and the same. Mayhap he is not so far wrong. Mayhap I have been lax if my daughter thinks to raise her voice to me.”

  Faith stared at her father in open-mouthed disbelief. If it had come to this, then there seemed but one choice left to her. God help her if she chose wrongly. Before she could foolishly speak her mind, she turned and fled up the stairs to the little cubby that served as her room.

  Naomi watched Faith’s flight before turning hard eyes upon her husband. “Do not tell me that you cannot conceive what distress would cause our Faith to speak so to you.”

  “She is my child and you my wife. I will not be questioned and defied.”

  “This is not like you, Jonathan.”

  He moved to the fire and sank into a chair. His voice lacked its usual strength and carried a heavy weight. “How can I abide your questions when I have no answers, Naomi? What would you have me do? Williams is not so old that we can hope for his death ere Faith has passed a marriageable age. Who will care for her when she is older? It cannot be we two, forever. Besides, she will want a home of her own, children...”

  “Aye, and rightly so. She will make someone a good wife and be a fine mother, but not with this man. You know as well as I that she will never find contentment there. Perhaps if we looked to another village,” Naomi suggested.

  “With Williams so well connected to the Governor? I tell you Naomi, I have examined this from every angle. There are forces at work here that we cannot comprehend.”

  Naomi sighed. Jonathan was right about one thing. No one in the colony would dare to cross someone with Owen Williams’s influence. “Will you not even consider—”

  But before she could finish, Jonathan barked, “Never! Do not bring it up again!”

  With another glance up the stairs, Naomi fought the tears that threatened. “We will lose her, Jonathan. I tell you, we will lose her. I cannot bear what my mother bore. It nearly killed her when she left Elizabeth behind, never to speak to her again. I know what the loss of my sister cost me.”