“Cap’n sez we gwine to Charles Town.”
Travay’s thoughts fluttered around like butterflies. Charles Town? For some reason, the fact they were sailing there made her heart lighter. What did she know about Charles Town? And what did she know about pirates that made her hate the word? She gently touched the knot on her forehead and trembled. Where did the knot come from? The questions and the haze that still hung over her brought on weakness, and her head began to ache. She lay down on the cot.
She must have dozed, for a knock awakened Travay. She sat up and smoothed her gown.
Mama Penn went to the door. “Who is it?”
“It’s me, Sydney, with the leddy’s food.”
The woman opened the door, and the lad entered with a tray.
The cabin boy’s brown eyes widened as they fell on Travay. “Blimey, ma’am. Blimey!”
“Give me that tray before you drop it, Sydney.” Mama Penn took the tray and set it on the table. “Ain’t you never seen a lady before? Now shut your gaping mouth and git back out that door. And don’t go telling no tales to the others.”
“Wait.” Travay stood and crossed to the young man, her skirts rustling. “You helped pull me from the water, didn’t you?”
The boy’s chin lifted. “Yes’m, me and Cap’n Bloodstone, milady.”
Travay laid a gentle hand on his thin shoulder. “Thank you.”
The boy’s face lit up in shades of red. He ducked his head to hide a smile before scurrying out of the cabin.
Travay sat at the table and found herself famished. It was only ship fare of hard bread Mama Penn called tack and a thick soup of vegetables, but it tasted good.
Later, when the black woman left to return the tray to the galley, Travay glanced about the cabin. Two cots lined one wall and a bookcase the other. Several history books lined the shelf, and an open Bible lay on the table in the middle of the room, along with a chart and compass. Whose cabin was this? The captain’s? She pulled out several books to peruse.
Mama Penn returned and tidied up, gently folding Travay’s clothing, now dry.
When darkness gathered, Travay undressed to her petticoat and lay down across the bunk. Mama Penn blew out the small lamp and walked to her cot in the corner. Suddenly she turned and headed toward the door. As she reached to push the heavy bar down, the door flew open and knocked her backward.
Travay gasped. A burly, bare-chested man filled the doorway, gawking at her. A grin creased his leathery, bearded face, exposing rotting stubs of teeth. The smell of rum and his unwashed body pervaded the room and turned Travay’s stomach.
“Well, blow me down if the little fellow ain’t a real lady after all.” His hardened appearance and slurred words filled Travay with revulsion. Shivers tripped up her back as his bloodshot eyes traveled over her. She grabbed a blanket to cover herself. The man licked thick, scarred lips and grinned. She braced against the wall, ready to jump up and run. But where? He blocked the door with his bulky, unkempt person.
Mama Penn recovered from her fall and moved in front of Travay’s berth. “Git out of here, Knox. Cap’n said nobody’s to come in here but him or Mister Thorpe.”
“Who cares what the Cap’n said. I just want to git a better look at what’s sailing on this here ship with us.” He pushed Mama Penn against the wall like she was a piece of fluff and staggered into the room.
CHAPTER 3
Captain Bloodstone entered his borrowed cabin and prepared for bed. He shed his weapons and baldric, then his shirt. As he sat down at the table, he remembered the Bible he liked to read before retiring. It was in his captain’s quarters, now occupied by the women, but it was too late to get it. He leaned back in his chair and yawned. Suddenly he heard heavy, running steps outside his door.
“Cap’n Bloodstone, Cap’n Bloodstone!”
He recognized Mama Penn’s voice, although it was two times louder than usual, almost a shriek.
He grabbed his baldric, placed it around his bare chest with a sword and pistol, and opened the door.
“It’s that devil Knox. He’s pushed his way into yo cabin.” Mama Penn’s eyes bulged.
“I’ll kill him if he’s hurt our guest.” Bloodstone strode ahead of the woman to his former compartment. Dwayne Thorpe, who had been standing at the entrance to his own cabin, fell into step behind him.
The door to the captain’s cabin hung open. Knox stood holding Travay’s wrist in an iron grip as she sat pressed against the wall, screaming.
Bloodstone’s icy voice cut the tense air like a sword. “Unhand her, Knox, you slimy squid.”
Knox dropped his hands and cocked his head as if it took a moment for the words to sink in.
Travay moved as far away from him as possible.
The pirate wiped his mouth with the back of a hairy hand. “Just wanted to have a look-see at our little passenger, Cap’n. No harm done. I swar it. You can ask the lady.”
“Lock him in the hold, Mr. Thorpe.”
The lieutenant stepped forward. Knox swung a blow toward him, missed, and fell across the table. Fast as lightning, Thorpe pulled a rope from his pocket, tied the man’s hands behind his back, then jerked him to his feet. He gave the rum-dazed captive a few well-placed punches to encourage him toward the door, and they both exited.
Travay sank into a chair and drew her blanket across her shoulders. She expelled a huge breath, and her eyes locked on the source of relief—Captain Bloodstone, who seemed bigger than life. He made the room seem smaller. He stood so near she could smell his musky scent and feel the heat emanating from his body. Dark hair curled across his chest. She looked away.
“Are you all right, milady?” His husky voice sent tremors up her spine. He leaned down and gently tilted her face to the light. His breath exploded. “That swine!” With his thumb, he wiped a trickle of blood from the corner of her mouth.
At his touch, a wave of weakness surged through Travay. She pulled her chin aside. “I’m fine. I just bit my lip when he …”
Captain Bloodstone’s eyes glittered, and his voice turned hard. “Knox may spend the rest of this voyage in the hold.”
Then his glance swept over her, and she pulled the coverlet closer.
He turned to the older woman. “Mama Penn, I am going to post a man outside this door.” He then turned back to Travay, and his voice softened. “Believe me, I’m sorry I didn’t do it before. I should’ve known at least Knox would try something.”
She took a deep breath. “Thank you for coming so fast.” She suspected the intruder had nothing to do with the continued pounding of her heart.
Captain Bloodstone strode over to the table, picked up the Bible, chart, and maps, and headed out the door.
That’s when Travay saw the captain’s back. She barely suppressed a cry. Scars crisscrossed the tanned shoulders. What had the man done to receive such a beating? Was he a criminal who had received the crippling thirty-nine lashes?
Before Mama Penn could pull the heavy bar in place, Seema slipped in and plopped down on a corner cot. The young woman gave Travay a sullen glance before turning her face to the wall. Mama Penn sank onto her own cot.
Travay climbed into her bunk and tried to erase the memory of Captain Bloodstone’s scarred back. And even with three people now inside, the room seemed empty after he left. She pushed that thought from her mind. Tomorrow she needed to get up on deck for fresh air. Maybe it would help her regain her strength and memory. But would she be safe even with Knox in the hold?
Back in his borrowed cabin, Bloodstone fought a battle to get Travay’s lovely oval face out of his mind and blot out the memory of her generously curved lips he’d been foolish enough to lean close enough to kiss. And before she pulled the blanket back around her … He took a deep breath and focused on the Bible opened on his lap. Was this the kind of temptation Reverend Wentworth was talking about earlier? He’d told Lucas that because of his past womanizing, women would continue to be a battleground for some time. Hopefully, the battles wouldn�
��t be this hard forever. If so, what hope did he have to live this thing called the Christian life?
No hope, a dark voice whispered in the room, and a strange heaviness settled about him.
He shook his head and began reading from the book of Ephesians. For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this age, against spiritual hosts of wickedness in the heavenly places.
He finished reading chapter six, prayed, and closed the Bible. Ethan Wentworth’s calm, confident words came to him, the ones he’d spoken when Lucas had made his decision to become a Christian: “You’ll make it, Lucas, I am praying for you. Don’t forget it.”
It sure did seem as if he were in a fleshly battle. Whoever the young woman was, he knew she spelled trouble, including tempting him to give in to desires he once pursued. But those days were behind him, and he was determined they would stay there.
The heaviness left the room, and he dropped onto his cot and slept.
The next evening, Travay presented her request when Captain Bloodstone came to the cabin.
“I would love so much to be able to walk on deck in the morning.”
She looked into his face and once again was shocked at the green tint of his eyes. It came to her why he was called Bloodstone. That was the name of a gemstone she’d seen somewhere that was a rich green with distinctive fiery sparks—like the way she’d seen his eyes flash when the captain faced Knox. Her heart lifted—surely her memory was returning.
The captain stood just a step inside the door. “I’ll see to it. But don’t go anywhere, milady, until I send Thorpe to escort you.” He smiled and glanced at Mama Penn, then back at Travay. “By the way, we need to get a name for you. Have you any suggestions?”
Travay searched her mind for her name. A cobweb hovered over her thinking. She stood and walked across the cabin to look out the porthole. Her voice was shakier than she would have liked. “I am sorry, but I still can’t remember.” She tried to squelch the cold knot in her stomach. How could she forget her own name, her family, where she lived?
“Your memory will most surely come back soon, milady. Meanwhile, you’re welcome to be our guest, of course.” He ducked his head, but not before she saw a patronizing grin play across his thin lips.
Did the man think she was lying? Her temper flared. What would it feel like to slap his handsome, arrogant face?
Up early the next morning, Travay quickly finished her breakfast of hardtack and tea. Mama Penn helped her lace her stays and don a hoop, petticoat, and a silky yellow gown found in the trunk the captain had deposited in the cabin.
The woman pulled Travay’s hair up in curls and pinned them tightly. “You hear that flappin’, snappin’ sound? That’s them trade winds coming strong against our sails, so these here pins are to keep your hair in place.”
Travay smiled. She didn’t care if her hair blew any which way as long as she could just get out of the cabin and stretch her legs.
When she had finished dressing, Travay listened for the steps of her promised escort in the corridor. She stood and began to pace the floor. Would Captain Bloodstone keep his word and allow her on deck? How she longed to stroll in the sunlight and take deep breaths of those trade winds Mama Penn talked about.
A knock sounded at the door, and she swished across the room and stood in front of it. “Yes?”
“It’s me, Lieutenant Thorpe, to escort you on deck, milady.”
Travay unbarred the door. She recognized the square jaw, dark eyes, and bushy brows of the man who had helped overcome Knox. This morning he was dressed in a clean striped shirt and dark pants stuffed into boots, his straight brown hair tied in a queue.
Thorpe flashed an appreciative look over her and gave a small bow. A grin started at the corners of his mouth as he extended his arm. “Well, the crew will probably go berserk, milady, but I’ll be by your side to protect you.”
“Well, thank you, Lieutenant.” Travay touched his arm and preceded him up the narrow passage and the steps, her skirts rustling with every movement. On deck, she refused to return the stares of swarthy pirates who stopped to ogle her. One, however, a handsome blond-headed pirate, bowed low to her. He had the dress and cocky air of an English gentleman. But that was impossible, wasn’t it? She honored him with a quick glance but turned her face when he smiled.
Once on the outer deck, she took deep, satisfying breaths of cool air. They walked under the canopy of a clear blue sky. The sun stood high above, and a crisp breeze filled the sails and pulled tendrils of her hair loose. She stopped, leaned across the railing, and looked out at the white-capping turquoise waves and occasional jumping fish. Her heart lightened.
She glanced at the tall man beside her, seeing for the first time the gray mixed in the hair at the temples. “Mr. Thorpe, have you ever had a memory lapse?”
He turned clear brown eyes toward hers. “No, ma’am, I can’t say as I have, but I’ve known others who have.”
Hope rose in Travay’s breast. “Did it last long?”
“No, ma’am. It all came back after something triggered it.”
Just then a shout came from the lookout. “A sail! A sail!”
From nowhere, Captain Bloodstone bounced up to the quarterdeck. Travay’s heart bumped against her ribs at the sight of him dressed in a billowing white shirt and fitted black trousers that disappeared into black boots. A red sash about his chest and waist held a sword and brace of pistols. He shouted to the lookout, “Where?
“To westward.”
Bloodstone pulled his spyglass from his waistband and leaned on the railing toward the west.
Beside Travay, Thorpe sucked in a deep breath.
“Ma’am. I best be escorting you back to the cabin. I need to get with the captain.” His words ran together.
“Oh, but we’ve just gotten on deck.” Travay frowned and scanned the ocean. From where she stood, she couldn’t see another ship. She had spoken louder than she intended. Captain Bloodstone turned from his glass and looked at her. Their eyes met, and a tremor shot through her.
“Get below deck, milady. Now.” His commanding voice and stiff face squelched any argument.
Thorpe took her elbow, and she returned to the cabin with him, howbeit none too happy. This was a pirate ship. Would the Blue Heron attack whatever vessel was out there?
Bloodstone studied the approaching craft across the distant waves. He knew it was loaded by the way it sat low in the water. Then he saw the oars moving in fast synchronized order. When he confirmed the flag on its masthead, the twist in his gut pained him as it had for seven long years. A hated Spanish galleon with galley slaves, and soon within reach of his guns. The water sheeted off the enemy vessel’s hull in scrolls of blue-white spume as it made a path through glassy waters eastward, probably toward Spain with a load of silver ore.
Thorpe strode up beside him. “Seen her colors yet?”
“Take a look.” Bloodstone handed the glass to Thorpe.
“The Red Cross of Burgundy, Cap’n.” Eagerness warmed the lieutenant’s voice.
“Yep, that’s exactly what it is. You know how I’d love to go after them.” Lucas’ insides churned, and he pushed away the flicker of hope that arose with each new sighting. He could find out something about his parents, who had been captured by a Spanish vessel years earlier. He lowered the lens and frowned. “But we’ve taken three women aboard since our last battle, and it would be much too dangerous for them.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right, Cap’n. God forbid the Spanish dogs got hold of them, or even some of our own crew.” Thorpe looked around at a commotion below. “But do you think the sea dogs are gonna be happy if we sail away?”
In less than three minutes, a swarm of pirates stood before the captain and Thorpe.
Mate Byron Pitt came to the front, a smile on his tanned face and one broad hand resting on the hilt of his sword. A wild and devil-may-care attitude made the rest of the crew look up
to him. He swung a blond lock back from his face and confronted Lucas. “Why aren’t we hearing your orders to give chase, Captain? We think it’s a Spanish treasure ship out there.” The mate’s suave voice rolled over the deck, loud enough for all to hear.
Ayes erupted from the crew members gathered behind Pitt.
“We have three women aboard. I’d like to see them to safety before we attack any more ships.” Bloodstone directed his answer to the mate.
Grunts of disapproval filled the air.
Bloodstone looked into the faces of his men and knew their mouths were already watering over the prospect of treasure. He quickly assessed the ones he knew would stand with him—Kirk, the cook, Edwin Bruce, the surgeon, Sinbad, his always loyal African boatswain, and Thorpe. Five against the rest of the crew, most of whom were loyal to him except when greed got a grip on them—greediness Pitt could fan into a fire.
“We have articles, Captain, that give us a say in these decisions. I say we hide the women below deck and go after that treasure floating out there.” Pitt’s hand closed over the hilt of his sword. More ayes sounded from other crew members who inched forward, their attention latched on Bloodstone’s face.
Sinbad moved in close beside the captain, his shiny bare shoulders towering over Pitt and the sailors behind him. He held a crescent-shaped cutlass, the hilt enclosed in a fist the size of a small haunch of beef, which was attached to an arm as thick as a pillar. Lucas shook his head without turning to look at his carpenter. Several of the crew stepped back, but not Pitt. He spat on the deck in front of Bloodstone.
Lucas’ jaw stiffened, and he whipped out his sword.
A loud blast shattered the tense silence as a cannon shot landed less than a hundred yards to the left of the Blue Heron—a warning to show colors. All attention shifted to the fast-approaching ship. Lucas sheathed his sword, the choice now out of his hands.
“Make clear and ready for engagement!” he shouted.
In a Pirate's Debt Page 3