Lucas glanced at Thorpe. The bride’s chamber. “No, let me see to it.” Another woman to protect until they landed portside. Just what he needed.
Lucas and Thorpe went to the door. Lucas knocked and spoke in passable Castilian. “My lady, I am an English captain who has overcome your ship. You and your party must come forth. This vessel is sinking. We will not harm you.”
A man’s confident voice answered. “I am the priest of the capital city of Mexico. I accompany the young daughter of the viceroy of Mexico, Contessa Maria Alvaro. Do you promise not to harm her, her maid, or her duenna?”
Three women. Lucas groaned. “We will not harm any of you. And I assure you, time is of the essence.” Lucas stepped back as he heard the bars being raised on the other side.
The door opened, and a gray-headed priest in a black robe faced him. As he took in Lucas’ and Thorpe’s pirate attire and the obvious signs of battle on them, he inhaled sharply. Then his piercing eyes searched Lucas’ face. He turned and beckoned to the women in the room. “Come, Senora Pilar, Contessa. I do not believe these men will harm us.”
Two women, dressed in black high-necked bodices and both wearing mantillas, glided toward the door. One of the women was clearly the matron. Older and stouter, her pale face under her dark lace head scarf was as harsh as a blustery winter day. She swished rich silk skirts as she came to stand behind the priest.
The other woman, dressed as a servant, moved to stand behind her, stuffing a jeweled case under her shawl. Lucas smiled. The ladies probably had a fortune of other jewelry stashed under their clothing.
A lovely young woman of no more than fifteen came from behind a screen and joined them. She pushed her white lace head covering back from her flawless oval face. Her startling amber eyes widened in astonishment as they came to rest on Lucas. “Are you a real pirate?” Her lush lips spread into a smile, and she attempted to move closer to him.
Her duenna laid a restraining hand on her arm and hissed, “Contessa Maria, do not approach the man.”
Lucas tried not to smile at the young woman’s intense gaze. “No, milady. I am not a pirate. I am a privateer.”
The elder lady covered a snort, and the priest looked toward heaven.
“And you have been wounded!” The girl’s perusal rose from Lucas’ blood-soaked bandana to his face. Then she looked away, color staining her cheeks.
Thorpe folded his arms and threw a raised brow toward Lucas.
“Milady, ’tis nothing. But you and your party must hurry. We have to abandon ship.” Lucas pointed up the passage, and the priest led the way. The women followed.
The young Contessa kept turning back to glance at Lucas, her thick, dark curls escaping from her mantilla as she pressed up the passage. Her full skirt swished against the walls.
Lucas shook his head at Thorpe when the man tapped him on the shoulder and grinned.
Two days later, Travay sat in the cabin with Merle, the duenna Senora Pilar, the young Contessa Maria, and her maid Carmen. The Spanish ladies embroidered, their fingers flying. Travay and Merle worked at a more unhurried pace on the intricate squares pressed into their hands by the visitors.
Contessa Maria laid aside her piece and spoke directly to Travay in perfect English. “The Capitan, he is so handsome.” The young woman’s face glowed pink under its golden hue.
Her maid nodded in agreement and smiled.
The duenna’s face stiffened, and she stopped sewing. “You must not say such things, Contessa.” She shook her head at her charge. “You must remember you are to be the bride of the Viceroy of Cartagena, and your eyes must see no other man.”
The Contessa’s full lips protruded in a pout. “But I’ve never seen him. How do I know I will like him?”
Travay looked up from her own stitching. “You mean to say you have never seen the man you are to marry?”
“No. It is the custom. But I don’t like it.” The young woman sighed, laid down her work, and stood to look out the porthole.
Travay admired the elegant yellow silk gown, which rustled with every move the girl made.
The duenna shook her head and continued with her needlework.
Merle hesitated in her embroidery. “I have heard that noble Spanish families sometimes make these arrangements even in childhood. Is this not true, Senora Pilar?”
The woman grunted and suddenly laid her work aside. “Come Contessa. Let us walk on deck for some fresh air. That will make you happy. No?”
The young woman’s eyes brightened. “Oh, yes. That will make me happy, Senora. And Carmen will come too.”
Travay frowned. Of course it would make the girl happy. She would get to see Lucas. The girl was taken with the “Capitan.”
The older woman searched in their trunk. “Get your cloaks. You know you must hide your faces from this awful pirate crew.” The three of them donned dark cloaks with hoods. The younger two chattered as they headed up the passage.
Travay set her needlework aside and stretched back on the bed where she had been sitting in the cramped cabin. If the young Contessa was taken with Captain Bloodstone, why should she care? She turned her face to the wall as Lucas’ handsome face invaded her thoughts. She clenched her eyes shut, but the vision only became stronger. She stood.
Merle looked up. “Heading to the deck too?”
“I think so.” Travay grabbed a shawl and went into the passage. The sunset should be lovely. That was the reason she would go. At least she told herself it was.
When she stepped up on deck, she saw the Spanish ladies at the railing, their words muffled by the breeze. She moved behind some rigging to watch. The Contessa stared at the quarterdeck. Travay glanced up at Lucas in a flowing white shirt and black britches with a green sash blowing in the wind. His dark hair hung to his shoulders in plaits. He made a striking picture.
At that moment, Lucas’ attention turned toward the Spanish ladies. The Contessa, her cheeks pink, gave a slight nod and a smile played on her lovely lips. Lucas bowed and turned back to scan the waves.
Travay’s lips compressed into a tight line. Did he have any idea the young lady—a child, really—was besotted with him? She turned and flounced back down the hatch and passage to await the call to dinner.
Later, dressed in a green silk dress from a chest Lucas had found in the hold, Travay sat across from the priest and tried to carry on a conversation. “Do you know how long it will be before you and your party may arrive at a safe port?”
The elder man’s pale gray eyes turned to her after he set his wine goblet down. “The captain says we should arrive in Jamaica within a week. From there we will be able to gain passage to Cartagena, I am fairly certain. Perhaps on a Dutch ship.”
Of course, Lucas could not risk taking them to a Spanish port. She took another bite of the sea flounder on her plate. “I hope it all works out well for the Contessa.”
“I am sure it will, milady.” Then he added in a lowered voice, “It was very good of the captain to allow her to keep her dowry intact.”
What? Lucas had kept back treasure from his gold-thirsty pirate crew? Travay glanced at him laughing with Thorpe, and with the undivided attention of the Contessa across the table.
Lucas walked up the steps to the quarterdeck and watched the amber sun sinking below the white-capped waves. A rustling noise behind alerted him. He whipped around, his hand on the hilt of his sword. It was the Contessa’s maid. He relaxed and prepared to warn her it was not safe to be about the decks alone at this time of evening.
“It is I, Contessa Maria, not my maid. I borrowed her cloak.” The soft, silky voice moved closer. A graceful hand pushed the cloak back from the shining black upsweep of hair held by golden combs.
“Milady, you must not come on deck alone like this.” He forced his voice to sound stern but kept it low to avoid being overheard. “Let me escort you back to your cabin. And stop talking, or the whole crew will know you’ve been foolish.” He extended his arm.
She ignored it a
nd leaned toward him, whispering. “Wait. I see your eyes flashing those sparks I’ve seen when you are angry.” Her lovely young face glistened with a glossy sheen in the gathering darkness. “I have only known of one other with eyes the color of jade like yours, dear Capitan. But it was a woman. An English woman captured by one of our Spanish galleons.”
Lucas’s heart bolted in his chest. He grabbed her by the shoulders.
She winced but then smiled up into his face.
“Tell me what you know of this woman.” His voice grated up from his throat. It had been louder than he wanted, and he pulled her into the shadows, hoping none of the crew had heard.
She leaned closer. Her breath came in short gasps. “Do you want to kiss me, Capitan?”
Lucas almost swore. “No, I want to know about this woman with the same eyes.” Without realizing it, his hands pressed hard into her small shoulders.
“You’re hurting me, dear Capitan. But I don’t mind. Kiss me, and I’ll tell you about the lady.” She stood on her toes and lifted her mouth to him with a pretty pout on her tender lips.
Now Lucas did swear, but under his breath. He drew her to him and touched her lips with his own. Then he moved her back an arm’s length.
Her dark lashes fell, a wonderful smile spread over the lips he had just tasted, and she started to sway, her eyes closed.
“Contessa, open your eyes and speak to me. Tell me all you know about this woman. And keep your voice low.” Lucas struggled to keep his own voice soft with the blood pounding in his temples at what the girl had revealed.
The young woman expelled a long, deep breath. She opened her heavy lids and gazed at him. “Yes, I did promise, didn’t I?”
He turned her and placed her hands on the railing to support her trembling body, but he still held her around her waist to keep her upright.
The girl took a deep breath and leaned into Lucas. She laid her head on his chest and closed her eyes. He dared not push her away for fear she would stop talking.
“The woman has been my best friend’s governess for the past many years. I don’t remember how many.” She turned back to look Lucas in the face. “I often visited, so I saw much of her. Why are you interested, Capitan? Surely she is too old for you.” The girl giggled but gasped when Lucas’ hands gripped her shoulders once more.
His mind whirled. How much dared he tell her? “This woman is still your friend’s governess? She still lives?” His heart beat so fast, he was sure the girl could hear it.
“She was alive when I left St. Augustine a month ago.”
Lucas’ mind soared. St. Augustine. He would find his mother and bring her home. “What family is she with?” He must know the name.
But the girl was a vixen. She turned and leaned toward him again. “That information deserves another kiss.” She lifted her chin and puckered her lips.
He leaned down and kissed her. She reached her arms around his neck and flung herself against him. He pushed her back, gritting his teeth at the heat rising in his body. She was only a child. Again, he had to hold her to keep her from falling.
“Tell me now.” Or I might be tempted to throw you over this railing, my lovely young one.
“It is the Carlos Santiago family in St. Augustine.” The girl breathed deeply and smiled up at him.
Lucas turned her toward the steps with a firm hand. “Come, I will escort you back to your cabin.”
“Yes, Capitan.” The girl clung to his arm as they moved down the quarterdeck steps toward the lower-level entrance.
Travay had found their cabin stuffy after dinner and decided to take a brief walk on deck. She covered her bright hair with a scarf and decided to keep to the dim areas where the fading sun failed to reach. No need to beg for trouble from the pirates on watch. She held her skirts close to reduce their swishing sound as she passed from shadow to shadow toward a secluded spot in the stern where she could look out over the glassy sea.
She leaned over the railing and took a wonderful deep breath of fresh, moist air. Suddenly she heard sounds from the quarterdeck. She saw two people standing very close. They whispered, then embraced and kissed. She heard the rustle of silk as the woman drew back, her face now clear in the moonlight. The young Contessa. Then she heard a low, commanding voice, one she knew too well.
Travay turned quickly and headed back into the passage before the two coming down the steps could see her. A pain squeezed her heart. Her walk for a little fresh air had been most enlightening. This was the real Lucas. An unscrupulous man who would take advantage of an innocent young woman, another man’s fiancée. A cradle robber in addition to being a pirate and thief. Her conclusion left her with an inexplicable feeling of emptiness.
CHAPTER 20
The next morning, Lucas stood on the quarterdeck enjoying the cool morning breeze flapping the sails. His mind churned with the possibilities of how he would rescue his mother. Surely the woman the Contessa described was his precious mother. He leaned over the railing and thanked God for the new hope.
“A sail. A sail!” The lookout’s voice rang from the top mast.
Lucas whipped out his eyeglass and scanned the ocean. He saw it too. Coming up fast on their larboard side. Could it be a Spanish treasure ship? Then he saw their colors and lowered the glass. A frown creased his brow.
Thorpe swung up on the quarterdeck, and Lucas handed his first mate the glass.
“A British ship, a large one. In fact, if I’m not mistaken, it’s a man-of-war.” Thorpe turned to Lucas. “What do you think a British man-of-war would be doing so deep in these Spanish waters? Could we be in open war with Spain?”
“In that case, I think we’d be seeing a fleet, not a lone ship.” Lucas kept his eyes on the ship as it overtook them. Instead of passing, the man of war sent a shot over their bow.
“What in tarnation?” Lucas frowned and lifted the eyeglass again. Couldn’t they see his English flag flying in the wind? He looked straight into the glass of the captain on the man-of-war. He saw him lower his glass and heard him shout, “Heave to, Revenge, you’re under arrest by the British Crown. We have all our guns trained on you.”
Lucas almost dropped his eyeglass and glanced at Thorpe. The man’s face had turned pasty under his deep tan. Surely he had heard wrong.
Every crewman on board, including Sinbad at the ropes, stopped dead still and watched the British ship draw near.
The HMS Greyhound lowered a longboat and soon boarded the Revenge. The British captain in his impeccable Royal Navy uniform marched up to Lucas with a number of marines trailing him, guns drawn.
The leader stopped before Lucas. “I am Captain James Hawkins of His Majesty’s Navy. Sir, are you the captain of this ship?”
Lucas’ breath stopped in his throat. The young man who had taken Travay to the Drakes’ ball in Charles Town. But the captain would not recognize Lucas who had been in his fastidious merchant’s costume at the soiree.
“Yes, sir,” Lucas answered. “What’s the idea of firing a shot over our bow? Can’t you see we’re good English citizens? We sail out of Charles Town.”
“Are you Captain Bloodstone, alias Lucas Barrett?”
Lucas’s eyes narrowed, and his body stiffened. “Yes, sir.”
Beside him, Thorpe put his hand on the hilt of his sword, but Lucas stayed it.
“You’re under arrest, and this ship and crew are now seized by the Crown.” The captain turned to the men with him. “Take both these men. Put them in chains in the hold.”
“Aye, aye, sir.” The robust soldiers moved toward Lucas and Thorpe almost in step.
Lucas’ face flooded with heat. “Wait a minute, sir! Why are you arresting us?” The marines proceeded to tie his hands and Thorpe’s behind their backs, and none too gently. They also divested them of their swords and knives.
The captain took a document from inside his coat. “Captain Lucas Bloodstone Barrett, I arrest you for firing upon and plundering Spanish ships against the edict of King George who revoked all
letters of marque and who has decreed the death sentence for all pirates who did not sign pardon papers by the twenty-first.”
Lucas dug his heels into the deck as the soldiers tried to pull him forward. “I’ve been at sea these five weeks. I did not hear about the new edict.”
“Too bad.” The captain motioned to the marines. They pulled Lucas and Thorpe to the side of the ship and forced them into the longboat. Sinbad’s murderous growls from the deck and curses from the marines trying to subdue him filled the air. Lucas grimaced. It took six marines to knock the African out and get a chain on him.
Travay continued to peer out the porthole after the boom of a cannon blast, but whatever was going on, it was happening on the other side of the ship. Were they under attack again? A strange silence reigned for a time before a loud knock sounded on their door of their cabin followed by a command. “Open in the name of His Majesty, King George.”
Her eyes flew to her aunt, who dropped the embroidery from her hands.
Merle opened the door and stood aside, cocking her head, as a British captain entered, his gold-trimmed officer’s hat under his arm.
Travay gasped. Captain James Hawkins, the solicitor’s nephew and pirate hunter.
His eyes brightened as he recognized her. He gave a deep bow. “Miss Allston, it is my distinct pleasure to see you again, although I regret the circumstances. May I ask after your health and that of your aunt?” He turned toward Merle and bowed.
Travay’s heart pounded, and her mouth went dry. What had happened to Lucas? “Captain Hawkins, what is the meaning of this?”
“Milady, we have taken this ship and arrested its captain and all the crew. I am here to rescue you and your aunt.”
Lucas taken. “But who will sail this ship home?”
“I have appointed a British squad to sail the Revenge to Charles Town. I request that you and your aunt pack your belongings and board my ship as soon as possible. And do I understand there are other passengers?” He directed his question to Merle.
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