She frowned, tapping her quill idly upon the desk. It was too bad that Blackbeard would not join her, but she understood that he was a man with his own plan, and that plan was to enrich Edward Teach. She needed to be glad he was her friend.
There was a tap on the door. She instinctively checked her hat, which kept the dark wig she wore fixed securely upon her head. But when she bade the visitor to enter, it was only Brendan.
“Small boats are arriving with supplies,” he told her.
“Good. Do you have the manifest?”
“I do.”
He handed her the sheet. She smiled again, thinking about Teach. He had given her a hefty quantity of gold. She had duly purchased a hefty quantity of supplies. Glancing over the sheet, she saw that all she had asked for had been acquired, down to the scented soap. A luxury she could not afford with a prisoner on board, but…
She had sworn she would release him. And she would do so.
The sooner the better, she thought. She felt him watching her far too often. And she was afraid he saw far too clearly. She was also irritated that he continued to prove himself an admirable man.
Brendan cleared his throat.
“What?”
“A letter for you made its way to the tavern.”
“Oh?” she said, looking at her cousin, who’d apparently read it already.
“It’s an offer of ransom.”
Her heart skipped a beat. She was a pirate captain. She had demanded a ransom for Laird Haggerty, and his men had seen to it that a letter had made its way to New Providence. Like letters had probably been sent to Jamaica and every other likely port.
She read the letter quickly.
To the pirate captain known as Red Robert,
Dear Sir,
It has been brought to our attention that you are a man who honors his word. As you are holding something dearer to our hearts than gold, we are glad to believe in his good health and safety. We are willing to offer whatever price you require for the safe return of Laird Logan Haggerty. As this is not a business to be handled through regular channels, please reply via the same channels as this missive was received.
Sincerely,
The Right Honorable Lord Horatio Bethany, and, in the case of my illness, death, or incapacity, with equal assurance, Lady Cassandra Bethany
She hadn’t realized her fingers had tightened on the page until Brendan warned lightly, “You’ll rip it.”
“I’ll write a reply directly, assuring them that there need be no further correspondence, and that the good captain will be released at our earliest convenience.”
“What about the ransom?”
She tried to shrug nonchalantly. “We are owed nothing. He proved his valor.”
“But they are offering a ransom.”
“Brendan—”
“The men will think you have grown soft.”
“The men will remember how often I save their lives.”
“Red, let’s face it. We’re really not in the business of taking ships and treasure, but even so, you have a reputation to uphold.”
“And let my reputation be that I honor a man of honor. Pirate or no.”
Brendan rolled his eyes. “I knew I should have been captain.” She looked at him, arching a brow. “All right, cousin, I admit you saved my life. But you must admit that I was doing well, thanks to Lygia.”
He shrugged. “Write your letter, then, so it can be left.”
Brendan closed the door as he left the master’s cabin. Black Luke’s cabin, once upon a time.
But, when he was gone, she didn’t dwell on Black Luke. She looked at the letter, and her fingers trembled. The letter had been written with love. Logan Haggerty had a home, a safe port, a place where he was esteemed and admired. He was not a man who would ever hang.
He had…
Cassandra.
Of course he did. No man who looked as he did could be without a sweetheart.
Impatiently, she dipped her plume into the ink and began to write. She would do as she had promised, as she should.
But it hurt. And she was angry with herself for that, because she was a realist, and she knew all about the harsh truths of life.
Still, she couldn’t help wondering. Did he love his no-doubt adoring Cassandra in return? Did he dream of her by night, and in those dreams, did he touch her and hold her tenderly in his arms?
What would life be like if she knew such tenderness? With even just a sweet whispered hint of passion…of love?
His was a world she could never know. She must write the letter. Get the man off her ship. Remember her quest…
“THE SEA IS A HARSH and cruel mistress, we all know that, lad,” Peg-leg said, looking out over the bow.
It was true, Logan thought. He knew the sea, knew it could be hard, cold and treacherous. But at the moment, it couldn’t have been more beautiful. At a distance, Nassau, New Providence, even looked enchanting, the colorful shanties near the shore, the rise and fall of the landscape beyond.
“And not just the sea, but the men who sail her, as well,” Peg-leg said.
Logan turned, crossed his arms over his chest, leaned back against the rail and stared at Peg-leg. “The men?” he asked politely. They were, after all, discussing, Captain Red Robert.
Peg-leg appeared distressed.
“Your tale?” Logan prompted. “What made Red a pirate?”
Peg-leg sighed deeply. He looked toward the captain’s cabin, clearly afraid he had given her away. His look was protective and sad; he deeply admired his captain.
“I told you, I already knew Red was a woman. I will be far more likely to remember at all times to keep the secret if I can truly understand it,” Logan told him.
Another sigh followed.
“Peg-leg?”
Peg-leg looked off into the distance, as if he were seeing a different time and a different place.
“I was working a merchantman at the time. The ship was under hire by a certain Lady Ellen Fotherington. Do you know the name?” Peg-leg asked him.
Surprised, Logan hesitated.
“Yes, mean old broomstick of a woman,” he admitted at last. “Her husband was a fine enough man. I met him upon many an occasion in a tavern by the water in Charleston. But he died when I was young, and I met her but once or twice. She passed away in the last year, so I heard.”
Peg-leg wagged a finger at him. “Goes to show, perhaps, ’tis true that only the good die young, because she was not a good woman and, sadly, she did not die young.”
“She is dead now,” Logan said pragmatically.
“Well, ’tis a long story, but the short of it is that she had rights over the future of a certain young woman. Our Red. Well, no matter how rich and high that wretched Lady Fotherington might have been, she always wanted to be richer. Oh, she was a harridan, and I’m glad you met her, because elsewise, I might not have the power to explain properly.”
Logan knew that Lady Fotherington had been fond of taking on indentured servants, although she owned slaves, too. But she knew how to turn her indentured servants into slaves, as well, creating debts they must also pay, accusing them of some crime. Logan had seen it done all too often. Indeed, had he not found himself, by chance and good fortune, in the home of such a man as Master George Delaney, he himself might have suffered a similar fate before reaching his majority. He’d been bitter and resentful, fighting like a wild cat, when he’d first arrived in the colonies; only Delaney’s kindness had changed his course in life.
“Red was a prisoner on this particular merchantman, which was captained by a fellow named Nimsby. Nimsby was an evil man, and he was cheap,” Peg-leg continued. “He was hard on his crew, though, quick to take the cat-o’-nine-tails to the back of any man who committed any infraction. He never traveled with enough men—and he never traveled with enough guns. He’d been known to carry human cargo from Africa, and he allowed little room for anything that could not make him money. I was in his employ because I’d been taken
off another ship and it was sign on with Captain Nimsby or…well, take my chance with a trial and the hangman. I’ve not often seen trials go well in the colonies. On this particular trip, Nimsby was carrying molasses and a few other staples home to mother England before going south to Africa, then east to the Caribbean and back to Charleston again, his customary route. He’d been given quite a fair sum by Lady Fotherington to deliver one particular piece of cargo to France—that being the woman you now know as Red Robert. It was on leaving Charleston, just out of the shipping lanes, that we were beset.”
“By pirates?” Logan queried.
“By pirates led by a beast,” Peg-leg assured him.
“A crew captained by Black Luke?”
Peg-leg nodded gravely. “The very same. I had seen Red, of course, but barely. She’d been brought aboard by two burly fellows who saw her into the captain’s cabin, and she was kept there under lock and key.”
“Did this Nimsby…assault her in any way?” Logan asked, furious at the thought.
“Oh, no. Nimsby was far too fond of gold to go against the Lady Fotherington’s wishes. Red was destined for an aging French count.”
“Who?” Logan inquired curiously.
“Le Comte de Veille.”
Logan grimaced. The fellow had just perished at eighty-plus. He had gone through several wives, dozens of mistresses and, by reputation at least, hundreds of whores. He was said to have been pock-marked so deeply that he was barely recognizable as human, unable to walk and suffering the insanity of late-stage syphilis.
“Was she a relative? Perhaps a niece?”
“No. She was bought. She was meant for the bed of the Comte de Veille,” Peg-leg said, horrified.
Logan shuddered, thanking God that Red had escaped such a fate. “Go on. How did a Frenchman’s…mistress, locked in a cabin, become the pirate Red Robert?”
“Desperation,” Peg-leg said. “And love,” he added sadly.
“She was in love?” Logan asked with a frown.
“Young master Brendan is her cousin. Surely you have discerned that they are related,” Peg-leg said.
Logan nodded. “She…wasn’t in love with her cousin, was she?”
Peg-leg’s look of absolute indignation was humbling.
“They’d been together as children, working in the household of Lady Fotherington. He’d been sent to fetch and carry and work on the merchantman, but he was an able and quick lad, and some of the crew grew quickly fond of him. He had a knack with a sword. He said there had been a groom back in the colonies who had enjoyed teaching the children the art of fencing when the old harridan was about on other business. There was a daughter, you see, Lygia. And she was the very soul of kindness. When her mother wasn’t at home, she saw to it that all the children received some special treat, the slaves and the indentured servants both. She loved fencing and reading and the like, so…young Brendan knew how to handle a sword.”
“And then…?”
“Then bad went to worse,” Peg-leg assured him.
“Pray, go on.”
Peg-leg sighed. “Black Luke bore down upon us. Nimsby felt he had nothing to fear, as he was good friends with a man named Blair Colm. He—”
“I know the name,” Logan interrupted curtly. “And not only because he sent those men after Red.”
“Well, then, you know he is known to travel with plenty of guns, and any pirate who has ventured to attack him has gone to the depths of the sea or had his head parted from his shoulders. His friendship with Nimsby had saved the man before, but this time Nimsby had placed himself in the path of Black Luke. Black Luke was a pirate’s pirate. He didn’t care who Nimsby knew, nor did he intend to sink the merchantman. He wanted to seize her, and all who were aboard.” Peg-leg took a deep breath, then went on. “When the firing started, Nimsby was preoccupied. I took it upon myself to unlock the master’s cabin, and I warned the girl within that we were under attack by a pirate, and that she must look to herself. Nimsby was killed almost immediately, when cannon fire brought down the mizzenmast. Then Black Luke boarded, and we were all a-fightin’ for our lives. Young Brendan was proving himself such an able combatant that he was cornered by several of the vermin from the pirate ship, and then Black Luke himself. All looked bleak indeed, I can tell you. Then, suddenly, this force of fury comes streaking out of the captain’s cabin, cutlass waving madly. It all happened so fast…. There was a whir of motion, and then suddenly Black Luke was dead. He’d turned and roared he was about to cut down a little louse, thinking that Red was the man she’d dressed up to be. But he underestimated her. She’d taken her swing before he could finish his words.
“That’s what I meant by love. The brigand had been about to kill her cousin, and that had given her the strength she needed. I think she was as stunned as anyone. Everyone just went still. When we looked around…there were mostly dead folks, and the ship was sinking. Without Black Luke, the pirates were suddenly trying to make it back to their own ship, but there weren’t enough of them left to man her. Suddenly the girl who had been locked in the captain’s cabin and come out like the wrath of God was shouting orders. The pirates who weren’t dead believed that Black Luke had been slain by another pirate held captive in the captain’s cabin, and they were set into the merchantman’s longboats to make it to shore if they could. And Red took over this ship, just as we have her now. Those of us on the crew who survived…Silent Sam, myself…and a few others, well, we swore to honor her, and so did Hagar, who’d been sent to tend to her and Brendan by Lady Fotherington. We’d been serving the likes of the wretched Nimsby and nearly died because he’d not had enough guns. It…was easy to serve her. And to keep her secret.”
“So…none of you were pirates before?”
“The cooper and the ship’s carpenter…they were from Black Luke’s ship. But they were both grateful not be serving beneath Black Luke, and they proved to be fine men. So…we started sailing the seas. We made up a dandy flag, and we all vowed to go by the pirates’ articles, as set down years ago by Bartholomew Roberts. We’ve not needed to fight near as often as you might think. Folks usually give over to a pirate ship with surprising speed.
“You must never give her away, Laird Haggerty. Never. I’d have to kill you,” Peg-leg assured him, adding softly, “Or die trying, at the very least.”
“I would never give her away.”
“Even once you’ve been ransomed yourself?”
“I would never give her away. I swear,” he vowed.
“Thank God,” Peg-leg said, and scratched his head. “I’m not so sure I could kill you. You’re pretty handy with a blade yourself. And you’ve never been a-pirating, eh?”
“Maybe we’re all pirates in a way, Peg-leg, seeking something we don’t have.”
“Now what would a laird need with pirating ways?”
“A good question. I might ask a similar one. I don’t see our captain as a greedy vixen sailing the seas for riches,” he said.
Peg-leg shrugged, turning away.
“What is her argument with Blair Colm?” Logan asked the man’s back.
“That is a tale I cannot tell,” Peg-leg turned and said solemnly.
“And why not?”
“Because I do not know it,” Peg-leg said. “You see, young laird, I did not say that I would not tell you, only that I cannot.”
“If she is after him, I would gladly sail with her until he is found,” Logan said.
Peg-leg studied him a long moment. “And glad I’d be to fight at your side, Laird Haggerty. But I believe she intends to set you free as soon as it might be done.”
“But the ship needs careening,” Logan said.
Peg-leg actually blushed a furious shade of red. “She’s a good ship,” he muttered, embarrassed that he had most certainly been overheard.
“So…it will be a while,” Logan said.
“So it will. Who knows what may come?” Peg-leg said. “The sea…always a wicked mistress, eh? Tempting with her beauty and h
er promise, deadly in her vengeance.”
Was he truly speaking of the sea? Logan wondered, and thought of their captain instead. Her eyes were just as Peg-leg had just described the water they sailed. As blue as a clear sky at times, then deep and indigo, roiling like a tempest at others.
“Today the ocean is at peace,” Peg-leg said gratefully.
“Aye. Today…she is serene and lovely. Gentle and sweet,” Logan said. What had he been thinking? Red Robert was never at peace. She was always torn within, so it seemed.
Peg-leg studied him seriously once again. “Well, we shall see.”
“So we shall,” Logan agreed.
THE CARGO HOLD was filled, and the anchor was raised. The breeze was picking up, filling the majestic sails, and the ship set out to sea as if she rode above the clouds.
He worked the mainsail with Silent Sam and Peg-leg at his side. At the bow, Red Robert stood, hands clasped behind her back, as she faced the wind. She had learned to ride the waves, and she swayed ever so slightly, as if she were one with the ship. She didn’t shout out orders; she spoke them to Brendan, who called them out to the crew. They were headed north, on a path that would eventually lead them up the Florida coast to Georgia, and then to the outer banks of the Carolinas. Logan was convinced at first that she didn’t intend to bend to Peg-leg’s plea that they careen the ship for cleaning, but as they neared northern Florida, he began to recognize a number of the islands, and he realized she must know of some safe haven where they could go to make the necessary repairs.
The day had been perfect. It wasn’t until nightfall that Logan first felt the shift in the wind, which came with a sudden cooling. The day had been hot, the heat eased only by the sweet rush of the breeze. At dusk, he felt the difference, and he saw that several of the men seemed to notice something amiss, as well.
He was pondering the weather when he found Brendan at his side.
“Captain Red would have a word with you, Laird Haggerty,” Brendan told him.
“Oh?”
“Captain’s cabin.”
He nodded. He had just donned his coat against the chill, and he followed Brendan with his shirt duly tucked, his hair queued, his vest in order and his boots polished. He entered her cabin when she bade him to and stood before her desk, waiting for her to look up. While he stood there, he examined the books lining the shelves. Most were sea charts, logs and navigational manuals, but there were works of fiction, as well. He couldn’t help but wonder if Red hadn’t added to the library that had once been Black Luke’s.
The Pirate Bride Page 8
