Buccaneers Series

by Linda Lee Chaikin

  “God save me from myself and all my folly,” she whispered, then turned with head erect and walked back into the ballroom to divert Uncle Felix. Somehow she must also stop Geneva from sailing with him to Porto Bello. There was something odd about the medication Dr. Vasquez was giving her. She was beginning to think Sophie’s concerns had substance to them. She would mention all this to Earl Nigel—and to Sir Cecil Chaderton too.

  11

  IN SEARCH OF EMERALD

  Baret slipped his baldric over his head and strode quickly down the garden walk toward the manor house. There was little doubt remaining in his mind that the men Lavender had seen arrive earlier were Capt. Rafael Levasseur and several of his French buccaneers.

  I was a fool to be so lax, he thought. Coming here tonight at this dramatic hour is the sort of theatrical deed in which Levasseur prides himself.

  His jaw set. “He’ll pay handsomely for this. If he has harmed Emerald, I’ll run him through.”

  As he made his way through the garden, three children darted from the trees near the back walk. One recognized Baret, gave out a cry, and ran up, grabbing him, his luminous eyes wide with terror. It was Jette.

  “That French pirate stole Emerald away! We were hiding inside the manor house and heard the whole thing!”

  Baret stooped and drew him into his arms. The boy was shaking and trying not to cry.

  “All right, Jette, steady. Tell me everything. Which French pirate? Captain Levasseur?”

  “Yes. We were afraid, because that Dr. Vasquez was in the garden when we came to wait for you. We went to the manor house, and a few minutes later the French buccaneers came inside. Levasseur sent two men to bring her, but by then we was hiding in Uncle Karlton’s crow’s nest and couldn’t sneak down to warn her. The men came back with Emerald, and Levasseur grabbed her and tried to kiss her—she didn’t like it neither. She got mad, and she hit him hard!”

  “We done heard the blow, didn’t we, Titus?” whispered Timothy.

  Baret showed no emotion, but his anger rose, cold and deadly. His hand closed firmly on his baldric. “Where are Emerald and Levasseur now?”

  “He took her away—to his ship.”

  So! He would need to confront Levasseur at the rendezvous. No doubt that was what Rafael wanted.

  “The box Carlotta gave you—where is it?”

  Jette quickly turned and gave a low whistle. The spotted hound came from the bushes, panting and wagging his wiry tail. A gunnysack was tied to his back.

  “That be my idea,” boasted Timothy, jutting out his chin at his brother.

  “If that Spaniard or Uncle Felix caught us, we were going to tell the hound to run,” Jette whispered.

  “Smart boys,” said Baret, using his knife to cut the rope and free the bag.

  “There ain’t nobody can catch de hound once he runs,” Timothy said.

  “He runs like lightning,” added Titus with a grin.

  “You’ve done well, indeed. Now, quickly—what did you hear Captain Levasseur tell Emerald?”

  Jette’s childish explanation was somewhat lacking, but Baret was able to understand enough to know that Levasseur claimed to have sunk the Dutch slave ship and held Karlton as a prisoner. He was leveraging Karlton to convince Emerald to write Baret a letter that she had changed her mind and was in love with Rafael.

  There had been a time when Baret would have been suspicious, but he had held Emerald in his arms, and her kiss had left no doubt as to her love. And she would never willingly leave Minette behind.

  Baret’s anger burned toward Levasseur.

  “Where is the letter? You left it on the table?”

  “No, we put it with the box.”

  “Good. Now listen carefully to what I want you to do next. Go back to the house and wait in your room until Grandfather Nigel comes to tell you good night.”

  “He always comes. We have cocoa together.”

  “You will tell him everything that’s happened. Is that clear?”

  Jette nodded.

  “Then tell him I’ve gone to rendezvous with Morgan. That our plans will be carried through to the end. If all goes well, we will see him in London in the court of His Majesty. Is that all clear?”

  Jette’s eyes shone like pools beneath the stars. “What about Emerald?” he whispered. “Will you get her back from the buccaneer?”

  Baret hugged him tightly. “One way or the other. And now, do you think you can get back inside the house and up to your room without anyone seeing you?”

  “We have a secret way. Not even Grandfather will see us till we have cocoa with him.”

  “The three of you will have cocoa with Grandfather, understood? Then you’ll tell him what I said.”

  Timothy elbowed Titus with a grin. “We gets cocoa, too. An’ I’m havin’ a second cup, or a third.”

  “The hound gets some, ‘cause he helped us.”

  “Sure he did,” Jette said. “And we’ll get Zunsia to get us a big bowl to pour his cocoa in. He won’t drink it if it’s hot—”

  “Jette, say nothing of this to anyone else, not even Aunt Sophie or Geneva.”

  “And especially Uncle Felix,” Jette whispered gravely.

  So he knew about his uncle.

  Baret tousled the boy’s hair, then stood, snatching up the gunnysack. “Away with you, now. Don’t let anyone see you.”

  Baret waited until the boys had slipped away, then went off to locate Erik.

  Minette and Erik were in the front garden near the palm trees. Minette saw him and came running. “Did you find her, m’lord?”

  His expression must have alerted her, for a look of fear showed on her face. “Mr. Pitt!”

  “No, Captain Levasseur.”

  He explained, and Minette sank to a rattan chair and covered her face with her palms.

  “He’ll find her again,” Erik told her confidently.

  “We must leave now, Minette,” Baret told her. “We’re sailing with Morgan. It may be that I can overtake the Venture before we rendezvous.”

  She jumped to her feet, stricken. “Oh, sirs! But I cannot stay here without Emerald!”

  Erik frowned. “I cannot take you with me now. It is too dangerous aboard ship.”

  “But it’s dangerous for me here! You don’t know Mr. Pitt—”

  “I do know him,” said Baret flatly. “And I have already made arrangements for Pitt—and for you, Minette. Sir Cecil is in charge of all my possessions on Foxemoore. He has orders to watch Pitt with an eagle eye and to begin training Ngozi to take his position. He’ll be teaching Ngozi to read and write. There’s also a Jewish family that Emerald told me about whose land was taken by Jasper and Pitt. It’s to be returned. You are now under the guardianship of Sir Cecil.”

  Minette, despite her agony over Emerald’s abduction, managed a brief smile. “M’lord, you are very kind.”

  “And now, Erik and I must leave. There’s a chance I may yet overtake the Venture before the rendezvous with Morgan …” He looked at Erik. “I’ll meet you with the horses.”

  Baret left them to their final good-byes and slipped through the palm trees to where his horse was tied and waiting.

  Emerald, he thought, I will find you again.

  It was easier than it might have been for Henry Morgan to round up the buccaneers for the expedition to Cuba, because the French were now at peace with England but at war with Spain. The War of Devolution had begun the previous May to the delight of the French buccaneers at Tortuga. Some of the first men to volunteer to sail with Morgan were his old friends John Morris, Jackman, and Capt. Edward Collier. Soon Morgan’s flotilla consisted of more than five hundred buccaneers with various-sized ships and barques.

  “Others still on the Caribbean are coming in to the rendezvous,” said Yorke, Baret’s lieutenant. “Including the French at Tortuga. Ye’ll be seein’ Levasseur is my guess.”

  Morgan had arranged to rendezvous among the hundreds of tiny islands on the south side of Cuba, the so-called
South Cays, because they provided a good lee for vessels at anchor. The reefs and islands to seaward kept out the swells, whose sudden snatch at an anchor cable was more likely to part it than was the steady strain of a strong wind. Another danger for the anchored vessels was no wind at all. In the tropical bays and anchorages, an otherwise good sandy bottom had a scattering of coral heads that reared up like large cauliflowers, often six feet high and many feet across. The danger was that if the wind died, the anchor rope got caught on coral heads. At the first breeze, the strain on the rope would cause it to be sawed by the sharp coral, and a ship would find herself adrift.

  Though Morgan now held a commission from Modyford appointing him admiral over the expedition to Cuba, the written commission had little effect upon the authenticity of the voyage. More important, now that Mansfield was dead, was that the Brethren of the Coast accepted Morgan as their leader. “The governor of Jamaica may say ol’ Morgan is admiral of the Port Royal privateers, but he’s leader of the Brotherhood because we trust him” was the word among the pirates.

  And so the Regale and the Warspite set sail for the South Cays.

  12

  CONFLICT ON THE CARIBBEAN

  Dawn found the Venture far at sea on the Caribbean. Emerald, who had slept little during the tense prayerful night, was already up and pacing when she heard a discreet knock on the cabin door. It sounded too gentle to be Rafael. He had locked her in his cabin before departing Port Royal, and she had not seen him since.

  “Emerald? It’s Ty.”

  She rushed to the door. “I can’t let you in. I don’t have the key.”

  “I have it.”

  The key rattled, and the door swung open. Ty entered, and she was dismayed to see him looking as devastatingly dangerous as Rafael. He was dressed in white-and-black satin, wore a baldric with long pistols, and carried a full complement of wicked things.

  He saw her dismay, and his dark eyes twinkled proudly. “I am a boucanier now, and I’ll be captain of my own ship one day.”

  “A mistake. You shouldn’t have come.”

  “I suppose being a slave on Foxemoore or hidin’ in the Blue Mountains is better? What else is there for me? At least I’m free.”

  “Free? With Cousin Rafael? You’ll always be in danger of capture by some island governor, trying to hang you for piracy.”

  His lips thinned. “They won’t catch me. Have they caught Rafael? Or Foxworth?”

  She moved uneasily. “Never mind Baret. Anyway, his name is Buckington, as you know quite well. Where’s that scoundrel Rafael?”

  He sank moodily into the small chair. “Asleep. Don’t worry. He’s got the treasure on his mind.”

  She wondered. “And my father?”

  He frowned. “He’s somewhere near Margarita. Rafael left him with Lex Thorpe. Don’t worry,” he repeated. “I’ll try to get him out of this somehow.”

  “You’re no match for that vile Lex Thorpe! He’s a fiend! Baret left him marooned months ago, and you can be certain he won’t forget. I thought he was dead by now. He’s vicious and diabolical.” She turned away, head in hands.

  Ty stood, looking guilty, and laid a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Emerald. I didn’t know Cousin Rafael was gonna abduct you. Or Uncle Karlton, either. I didn’t want any part of it. All I wanted was to join the Venture. I didn’t even know about Uncle or about Rafael’s plans until we was at sea.” His dark eyes boiled. “He won’t hurt you. I won’t let him.”

  “He expects to marry me.” She told him about the letter he’d forced her to write to Baret.

  “Rafael has always wanted to marry you. I remember him comin’ to Uncle Karlton when you was only fifteen. What do you think the viscount will do?”

  She turned away, fingering the ruby pendant. “I don’t know. If he believes the letter, he’ll do nothing.”

  “I can’t say, ‘cause I ain’t never met him. But some of the buccaneers aboard are saying that Rafael went too far. That Captain Foxworth will hunt the Venture down and make him pay for his folly, and they ain’t happy about you bein’ aboard. All they wanted was the treasure of the Prince Philip.” His eyes shone with fervor. “I’ll be gettin’ enough to get my own ship. I’m gonna learn how to sail, Emerald. I’m goin’ to be the best buccaneer on the Caribbean.”

  She sighed and sank back into the chair. “Better that Baret would sink the Venture and all of us aboard. Oh, this is the worst thing that could have happened. And poor Father is left to that vile Thorpe.”

  “Cease your moaning, Demoiselle,” said Rafael from the doorway. “Uncle Karlton will live. Without him, we do not know where the treasure is. Even Lex has enough brains to treat the golden goose gently.” He proceeded to bow, balancing a cup of coffee. “Good morning, mon cherie, and why so wan?” He entered with a bold smile. “Today I may wish it to be my wedding day!”

  She jumped to her feet. “Don’t be absurd, Rafael. I will not marry you, least of all aboard a pirate vessel.”

  His black brows shot up. “Then you will marry me at Margarita? The friar will come to pronounce his blessing upon us in the chapel, oui?”

  She turned away.

  He chuckled, setting the cup down firmly and spilling coffee. “Cheers, mon petite. I am a patient man but not overly patient, so do not test me by pouting in grief over Foxworth. I will marry you aboard my ship.”

  Her eyes swerved to his. He meant it. Anger churned in their black depths.

  “And who will perform the vows? Your gunner? Though you are captain, you cannot officiate at your own wedding. It wouldn’t be valid.”

  “Then we will find a captain at Morgan’s rendezvous.”

  “And who will that be,” she scoffed. “L’Ollonais?” she asked of the most notoriously evil French pirate on the Caribbean.

  “It matters not to me, but a marriage we shall have, Mademoiselle, and why not buccaneer style? Were you not born on Tortuga?” He leered.

  “You will never forget that, will you?”

  “It is where we both belong.”

  “Baret will meet us at the South Cays. Do you think he will allow it? You cannot avoid him—your greed will force you to confront him over the treasure.”

  “You mock, but you will cease your amusement when you are mine at last.”

  Ty attempted to intervene, but Rafael turned on him sharply. “Silence, Ty. I am captain of this ship! You are blessed I took you aboard.”

  “You see now what he is truly like,” said Emerald to Ty. “It is a curse being aboard his ship.”

  “I know you are captain,” said Ty. “Perhaps the best on the Caribbean. But Emerald is our cousin, and while you want her for your own, you needn’t bully her. We had too much of that from Pitt.”

  “Ah? The little cousin tells me, Levassent, what to do!” He laughed. Then he looked back to Emerald and ran a finger along her cheek. “Mon petite has a temper is all. She will learn soon to smile and treat me pleasantly. You and I will have breakfast together—in my cabin, oui?”

  He turned to Ty, who was frowning. “You may be a cousin, mon ami, but aboard this ship you will not question the captain.”

  “I am not hungry now, Rafael,” Emerald said. “And I wish to be left alone until brought to my father.”

  His laugh was unpleasant as he drew her into his arms. “What you wish is of little consequence.”

  Ty grabbed Rafael’s arm. “Let go of her, Cousin. She doesn’t want you—”

  Rafael struck him across the mouth, and Ty staggered back, his lips bleeding from the rings on Rafael’s fingers.

  Emerald suppressed a cry.

  Ty stared at him, apparently stunned as he reconsidered his estimation of the daring French buccaneer.

  Rafael did not look apologetic. “I will not take your lectures, my cousin. You will learn that what I say aboard the Venture is law! Now leave the captain’s cabin before I have you confined to the hold!” He strode to the door and flung it open. “Out!” he demanded, pointing. His black eyes s
napped.

  Emerald tensed when she saw a look of defiance on Ty’s face.

  “Have I run away from Jamaica to become a slave to you?”

  “Ty—” Emerald began, knowing what Rafael might do to him at sea.

  Rafael appeared to consider, then gave a harsh laugh. “Enough, you young cockerel. Come! We will both leave Demoiselle to her contemplations—” he looked at her with mocking challenge “—for now.”

  Her sails filled with wind, the Regale slipped gracefully through the Caribbean on a steady course in pursuit of the Venture. In his cabin, stripped to a pair of leather breeches and pistol belt, Baret studied his father’s historic journal as Hob poured his coffee. The blue parrot, King Charlie, stretched one leg, then the other, and continued gorging on an overripe mango.

  Hob grinned as he looked at Baret. “His lordship’s journal be a better prize than all the gold on the mule train from Porto Bello, says I. Ye be owin’ Miss Carlotta.”

  To Baret’s amazement, when he had opened the box that Carlotta had entrusted to Jette, he’d found the long-sought journal of his father, who had been commissioned by Cromwell to establish a British colony in the West Indies and to harass Spanish shipping. The account of the taking of the Prince Philip, which had first opened fire on the Royale, was precise, and further information had been added by his father’s secretary, Lucca, that was dated and signed. There was mention of the storm, the need to cast some of the booty and heavy goods to the sea. And then the account broke off abruptly—only to begin again on shore, where a hasty entry had been written in by his father of the approach of a Spanish war vessel. The treasure was stored securely, but there was no mention of where.

  Baret’s gaze darkened as he meditated over the information. Had there been mention of Margarita, Felix would have narrowed his search long ago. Now, of course, they all knew it was stored on that isle, but only he and Karlton knew the precise location. Levasseur would have done his worst to get Karlton to talk, but Baret had no qualms about his soon-to-be father-in-law’s secrecy. He would say nothing, whatever the cost, knowing that once Lex Thorpe or Levasseur knew where it was, his life would no longer be considered useful. And Emerald might no longer be safeguarded by Rafael.