❧
Brian paced across his cell floor. After two weeks, his plight wasn’t any better than it was when they arrived at the plantation. At least Badeau provided clean clothes for Brian to wear when they ate. And Walter had let the women out of their rooms long enough to do their laundry. He even allowed Brian to watch over them, to protect the women from the pirates. Of course, a guard stood close by to make sure they didn’t try to escape.
When the pirates came to get him to help with the construction on the house, he labored as hard as anyone, more than some. Badeau worked along with his men, but he didn’t hear the grumbling that Brian did. Some of the men didn’t want to be carpenters; they only wanted to be sailors. Brian was surprised that some of them hadn’t left. Maybe they were waiting for Badeau to divide the booty with them.
Brian’s thoughts turned to Angelina. When they ate with Badeau, it was hard to hide from the pirate how much he cared for her. Because of the heat, she had taken to putting her hair up. Curls often sprang loose from their confines and formed a halo around her sweet face. Since she spent so much time out on the balcony, her cheeks had been kissed by the sun, adding a golden glow to her creamy complexion.
He knew better than to entertain longings for what could never be. Why couldn’t he have been born in Spain? Then her father might consider letting them marry. A Spanish father would want his daughter married to a fellow Spaniard. If Brian were able to escape and rescue her, her father might forgive him for causing this travesty. But he would never agree to a marriage. Brian didn’t have the same social standing as Angelina and her father. Besides, Señor Fuente was a strong Catholic, and Brian attended the Protestant church in St. Augustine. Señor Fuente wouldn’t want his daughter marrying outside his church.
When the key scraped in his door, Brian stopped his pacing and faced Walter. “Is it time for supper?”
Walter set a bucket of fresh water on the floor. “You have about fifteen minutes to clean up.” He handed Brian fresh clothes.
After he had washed and dressed, Brian put on the clothes. They fit as if they had been tailored for him. He wished he had a looking glass. Walter had stayed long enough for him to shave one day last week, but Brian knew his cheeks sported a beard that was several shades lighter than his dark curls. Would he ever again have the chance to shave every day?
❧
Angelina hadn’t felt this good in more than three weeks. Walter had delivered a copper bathtub in the middle of the afternoon. After having several of the men bring up buckets of water to fill it, he left without saying a word to the women. Angelina offered to let Aunt Elena use the tub first, but she declined. Now Angelina’s hair and body were squeaky clean. She put on her lightest summer dress, then pulled back her still-damp hair and tied it with a ribbon that matched the warm pink of the garment. It was one of the latest fashions when she left Spain. The scooped neckline and the white lace trimming the empire waist made her feel feminine. For the first time since they arrived in this place, she liked the way she looked. If only Brian would notice.
When Brian and Badeau arrived for the evening meal, Angelina waited for them, seated on one of the couches. Aunt Elena sat beside her so the pirate wouldn’t.
Brian and Badeau sat on the opposite settee while Walter and another of the pirates brought in the food. Angelina noticed that Brian looked especially handsome tonight, even though his beard had grown back. She was sure that many women probably flirted with him. Thankfully, he was a godly man who didn’t believe in trifling with a woman’s emotions.
Badeau launched into his usual evening banter. Angelina didn’t really listen to his words anymore. She simply waited for Brian’s translation.
“Is there anything you need that you don’t have right now?” the captain asked through Brian.
How could she answer a question like that? I want to go home to my father. I want Brian to look at me and really see me. Angelina felt a blush creep into her cheeks. She hoped no one would notice.
“Badeau says he’s going to stop his piracy. He wants to be a legitimate plantation owner.” When Brian looked her in the eyes, Angelina let her gaze drop to where her hands rested in her lap. “He plans to marry and have a family.”
Why would the pirate captain tell her all this? It had nothing to do with her.
“I want you to be happy, Angelina.” The pirate’s words coming from Brian’s mouth went straight to her heart. They sounded as if Brian meant them himself.
Angelina glanced up at him. For an instant, the expression on his face seemed to echo the words. Then, as if a veil were drawn over his countenance, his expression was masked.
Before Angelina could think of anything to say, the pirate continued. This time Brian’s words sounded more impersonal. “Badeau wants to take you through the house and get your opinion on what else needs to be done.”
Suddenly, it hit her. On the ship, Badeau said he had plans for her. The pirate spent every evening meal with her trying to get to know her. Why had it taken her this long to understand? He hoped to marry her. She turned toward Brian. Surely he didn’t go along with this idea.
Badeau said something else. Brian looked at her. “Angelina, I’m not going to tell you what he just said. But you must act as if you are going along with him.”
The idea of taking a stroll through the house with this abhorrent man made her skin crawl.
“I know you don’t want to do this, but it might be the only way we can eventually escape. Let him take you through the house. I’ll be with you. Act as if you are comfortable here. I have a plan.”
Angelina bowed her head and took a deep breath. She could sense Aunt Elena’s agitation, but she would do what she had to. Brian had a plan, and she would trust him. She raised her head and gave a tremulous smile to no one in particular.
❧
As Badeau gave Angelina and her aunt the grand tour of the massive house, Brian followed the trio. He asked for Angelina’s ideas on everything, and she answered in clipped monotones. Every time Badeau tried to move closer to her, she stepped back. Brian saw her hands shake before she clasped them together to make them stop. He noticed tension in her shoulders and neck. She obviously abhorred the man and hated spending any time with him.
By the time the tour was over, Angelina’s shoulders were sagging, and she picked nervously at her fingernails. Brian’s heart hurt to see her this way. Even being locked in his cell in the basement didn’t cause him as much misery as watching Angelina suffer.
During the midday meal, which they ate without the pirate’s oppressive presence, Angelina told Brian how much she hated being around Badeau. And when the captain joined them for supper, she was silent and aloof, refusing to respond to any of the man’s comments or questions.
After they finished eating their food, the frowning pirate stormed out of the room. Brian had to step lively to keep up with the man.
“Badeau,” Brian said, taking two quick steps to the pirate’s one, “I’ve not given you any trouble, have I?”
The pirate stopped short and peered down at him. “What are you talking about?”
“I’ve cooperated with you completely.” Brian lifted his chin defiantly. “I’ve translated for you, worked for you, and done everything you asked me to.”
Badeau placed his hands on his hips. “So what if you have?”
“I want to be treated better.”
“But you’re my prisoner.” Badeau sounded amazed that Brian had the audacity to say what he did. “You eat well. I give you new clothes. What else do you want?”
Brian took a deep breath. “I want some more things to make my room in the basement comfortable. A better mattress. A chair. A lamp so I can see at night. Maybe some books to read.”
The pirate glared at him. “And why should I do all this?”
“So I will continue to translate for you.”
The giant glowered at him. “I could have you killed instead.”
Brian stood his ground. “Yes, you coul
d. However, I am a man of honor, and I will cooperate with you in every way.” Brian knew he wasn’t being entirely honest, but maybe God would forgive him that lie when he rescued the women. “It might even be nice to have a room somewhere besides the basement.”
Badeau just stood there for several moments. Brian hoped he hadn’t gone too far.
Finally, the captain bellowed, “Walter!”
The man hurried down the corridor toward his boss.
“Come take this man to his cell before I get angry enough to kill him.”
Nine
Brian’s confrontation with Badeau did bring relief. The pirate must have changed his mind, because over the next three days, several items were added to the cell. Brian now had a comfortable chair and an oil lamp. Three books rested on the table beside the lamp. One of them was the Bible he had requested from Walter. Brian took comfort from the words in Psalms. He also read from the book of Samuel, which said that the battle was the Lord’s. When he first saw those words, peace settled into his heart. He felt God telling him that He would win the battle. Brian wanted to tell Angelina, but how could he explain the feeling of God’s presence?
Walter carried a small chest of drawers into Brian’s room. It contained several changes of clothes. A washstand with a white pitcher and bowl soon rested beside the chest. The basement room began to feel more like a home than a prison. If only the door weren’t kept locked.
A week later, while Brian worked beside the pirates on the house, he slipped a nail into his pocket. That night, when he was alone in his cell and the sounds of the household above him had silenced, he took out the nail and inserted it into the lock. On his knees, he worked it around and around, trying to feel for the tumblers. When he couldn’t, he decided to bend the nail against the base of the bars. The nail resisted his efforts for a long time, but eventually the end of it turned to one side. By that time, Brian was exhausted. He put the nail in the bottom of one of the drawers in the chest, then went to bed. Tomorrow night he would try the nail again.
When he had supper with Badeau and the women the next day, Brian had a difficult time keeping his mind on the conversation. He could hardly wait until he could try the nail. He had to make it work.
That night, he made himself wait until the house had been quiet for a while. Then he inserted the nail into the lock. With the bent end, he could feel the tumblers. He worked and worked at them, but the pointed tip kept slipping off.
Brian stood and looked around his cell. The rocks that made up the walls might work to file off the tip, but he didn’t want anyone to hear the scraping noise. After going to one of the corners of the outside wall, he knelt on the floor and dragged the nail across the bottom rock. Surely the sound would be absorbed by the earth on the other side. He repeated the task until the end of the nail was blunt.
After rushing back to the door, he tried once again to trip the tumbler. On the third try, it moved. Brian opened his cell door. He stepped from the lighted room into the darkness beyond. Thankfully, a bright moon cast its beams through the windows on one side of the basement. A feeling of freedom welled up in him as he explored the rest of the underground area.
Brian wondered if he could get into the treasure room. The only way he would chance that was if he could figure out how to relock the door when he finished. He went back to his cell, pulled the door closed, and inserted the nail. After some maneuvering, the door was fastened securely. Knowing it was late, Brian stretched out on his bunk and tried to go to sleep. He would need rest if he had to help the pirates again tomorrow.
“Good morning, Brian.” Walter’s voice from outside the cell woke Brian before the door opened. “Are you ready to go to breakfast?”
Brian jumped up from the bed and started splashing water on his face.
“We’re going to allow the women to wash their clothes again this morning,” the Englishman said.
Brian smiled. His lack of rest wouldn’t be a problem if all he had to do was guard the women from the other pirates while they completed their task.
That night, he unlocked his cell once again. Carrying the oil lamp with him, he approached the door to the treasure room. After setting the lamp on the floor, he inserted the nail into the lock. This one was a little more complicated than the cell door. However, he eventually tripped the tumblers. He opened the door slowly, not wanting a squeaking hinge to alert the guards. He picked up the lamp and approached the area where the items from the Angelina Star were stored.
He found the strongbox from their ship. It took him awhile, but he finally got it open. The ship’s papers lay on top. When he lifted them out, he discovered a large pile of coins. The money actually belonged to his employer, so if he took some of it, he wouldn’t feel as if he were stealing. Arturo Fuente would want him to have what he needed to help his daughter escape.
After slipping a few gold doubloons into his pocket, he closed the lid. Relocking the strongbox took even longer than opening it, but the door to the treasure room was easier to lock. When Brian returned to his cell, he hid the money in the bottom of the chest under his clothing.
❧
Angelina dreaded supper. Although she enjoyed the other two meals when Brian was the only man with them, she was tired of Badeau’s presence. She didn’t care if he did plan to end his piracy. She almost wished he would return to the sea, if only other people wouldn’t be hurt by it. The man grated on her nerves.
When he was in the room, he dominated everything, including all conversation. He was so large, he made the room feel smaller. Angelina didn’t like answering his intrusive questions.
She didn’t like the way he always kept his eyes on her, either, as if she were on display just for him. His leering eyes made her feel as if she needed a bath. She wished she had some old, shapeless, hideous clothing that would cloak her figure and hide it from his prying gaze.
Angelina would never trust him. She had seen his barbarism on the ship. How in the world he ever thought any decent woman would want to marry him was a mystery to her.
After they had eaten the meal, Badeau asked her and Brian to accompany him out on the balcony. They stood by the railing and breathed the evening air, heavy with the earthy smell that came up from the swampy bayou. Dusk fell over the bayou before the man spoke a word.
“He says he’ll be leaving in the morning.” Brian’s eyes bored into hers before he averted his gaze toward the treetops across the clearing. “He asked if you want him to bring you anything from New Orleans.”
“I don’t want anything from him.” Angelina tried to keep the malice from her voice. She didn’t want to anger the pirate.
“I can’t tell him that.” Brian turned his gaze back toward her. “What else should I say?”
“Tell him, ‘No, thank you.’ ” Aunt Elena’s voice floated out from just inside the door, where she stood watching.
Angelina nodded to her aunt, then turned to Brian. “Yes, tell him that. We want to remain safe until my father comes after us.”
❧
Angelina’s words cut through Brian’s heart like a sword. He was sure that by now Señor Fuente knew the ship was lost. He would have no way of knowing that any of them were alive or where to find them if they were. Brian had to do something. . .soon.
The next morning, when Walter came to take him to breakfast, Brian told him, “I want to take the Bible upstairs so I can read it to the women.”
Walter glanced from the book in Brian’s hand to his face. “I don’t see any problem with that.”
Brian and the women had just started eating breakfast when he heard Badeau’s heavy footsteps in the hallway outside. He looked at Angelina and saw her face blanch. Why was the man coming to bother them at breakfast? She took a deep breath, and her face hardened into an expressionless mask.
The pirate captain strode confidently through the doorway. “I want to tell Angelina good-bye.”
Brian translated his words. Angelina nodded to the man, picked up her spoon, and returned
her attention to the porridge in the bowl before her.
Badeau hesitated, as if waiting for some word from her. When none came, he stomped from the room.
Angelina looked at her aunt, then turned her gaze toward Brian. Her sad eyes tugged at his heart. They glistened with tears, but she resolutely brushed them away.
“At least he won’t be around for a few days.” Angelina lifted her chin higher. “We can enjoy spending three meals a day without his presence.”
Brian knew that wasn’t going to happen.
“Do you think the other pirates will continue working on the house while he’s gone? Or will it be quieter around here for a while?” Angelina’s voice sounded livelier than it had for several days.
“I don’t know.” Brian had other things to think about besides the construction of the house.
After they finished eating and Walter left the room, Brian opened the Bible to First Samuel, chapter seventeen, and read aloud. “ ‘And all this assembly shall know that the Lord saveth not with sword and spear: for the battle is the Lord’s, and he will give you into our hands.’ ” He looked up at Angelina. “When I read these words earlier, God spoke to my heart. He assured me that He will help us win the battle over Badeau.”
“How?” Angelina asked.
“He will help us get away. And I believe He will help us capture the pirates, too.”
A puzzled expression covered Angelina’s face, causing her brow to wrinkle. Her eyes clouded. “And how will He do that?”
“I’m not sure, but I have peace in my heart.” Brian took a deep breath. “Do you trust me?”
Angelina nodded.
Elena put down her needlework and turned her attention toward Brian.
“I don’t believe Badeau will harm you. I’m sure you’ve noticed that he has been trying to court you in the evenings. He wants you to marry him.”
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