by Marie Hall
“You’ve not received a letter in some time. Were you not worried? Curious?” Alice asked as Mr. Hong came in with another cup and poured tea.
“Marg,” Mary started then tried to catch Mia’s eye. “Marg is your other aunt, the youngest of us. Marg and I tried several times to learn her whereabouts, but the letters always passed through several hands and we couldn’t trace them back to where they came from. And the last letter she sent did speak of Molly’s need to move on and forget her past. She wanted so much to be a good wife to the captain… I mean commodore.” She accepted the cup from Mr. Hong who muttered this was a bad idea to go against the commodore. “When Mother, my mother,” she clarified, “read in the paper about Captain Winthrop, she commented she thought it amusing how the man’s wife shared our last name, Cadley. Thought perhaps a distant relation.”
“She didn’t reason out it could be her own daughter, or even her granddaughter?” Johanna asked.
“Mother isn’t well and Molly wrote to me, only me,” she said, pointing to the letters sitting in Mia’s lap. “She asked me to keep everything to myself: that she lived, that she wed, that she had a child. I didn’t even tell Marg until she was getting married herself, but I should guess it might have been too late by then. Molly and I were born less than a year apart so we were close, but Marge didn’t come for almost eight more years. I haven’t told mother. I think she’s convinced herself she dreamed up Molly. As for father… His guilt for sending Molly to the colonies… He sacrificed his own child for the sake of his family’s reputation. But that sacrifice didn’t help any of us one bit.”
Mia lifted one of the letters and unfolded it. The date, July 1814, caught her eye. “This was her last letter to you?” She handed it over and saw Mary look at it then nod before handing it back. “She was pregnant with Charlie that July.”
Every woman in the room gasped. “You have a brother? Molly has a son?”
“She had one, he died with her when our home was attacked. He was only a few months old when he died.” Mia told her, willing the emotions to not rise up and storm. It was harder to do these days, and when the woman had to smother a sob Mia had to blink hard to stop the tears from falling.
“I’m sorry, Mia, for your loss. Truly it isn’t my intent to bring you more heartache. I just hoped when you arrived in England… maybe Molly…”
“You hoped your sister was ready to reconcile?” Alice said and leaned forward to pour more tea. Mia couldn’t stop the giggle seeing Alice use the very techniques she’d been taught at her last school.
She shook her head when everyone turned to look at her but then another giggle slipped out as she thought how absurd all of this was. Her mother’s family, her father’s family… both now known to Mia and all she wanted was her family. Her family. The crews of the shipping line, Papa, Hong, Grim and Devin. Devin and her child. She should’ve put up sail yesterday and sailed away when she had the chance. She hated England. Everything that hurt her mother was here. Everything that hurt her through her childhood was here. Another giggle though this one ended with a sob.
“Mia? Are you all right?” Johanna asked
Yes, England was where all the hurt came from, but too, it was the only place where Mia could get answers. Answers for herself, and for her mother. Her mother who went to her grave not ever able to say why her family not only cast her out, but tried to kill her. She sniffed, took a deep breath and wiped her eyes before she lifted her head, pulled her shoulders back and made the conscious choice to take the helm and steer this ship on the course she wanted.
“Well then,” she started and when Johanna squeezed her fingers she squeezed back. “Perhaps I should hear your side of all this. Because I certainly know the way the wind blew as my mother saw it.”
Chapter 23
Mia paced the docks and waited for the assist boats to push the frigate in. That a second ship was also trying to dock only made the wait longer, but the smaller ship had right of way and priority, so all Mia could do was wait. Wait and hope the ship docked and was moored up before Devin discovered she’d mutinied against him.
She hadn’t told him that she’d spoken with her aunt. Hadn’t said she didn’t know how she felt about Papa keeping them out of her life even long after Mama’s passing. She didn’t tell him she planned to take part of the crew from the Joy Chaser to man her schooner and set sail to where she suspected Papa went that she might confront him about all of this.
She could wait. Maybe she should wait. But for how long? Even Mr. Smithe had expected Papa back by now and he couldn’t give Mia a date to expect him and he wouldn’t say where he’d gone. Mia only suspected he was chasing yet another of those pirate crews, perhaps along the Persian Coast as that is where everyone in the navy was saying attacks were happening most frequently. It hardly mattered. Mia only needed to find the Deep Heart and ask that captain where Papa was. It wasn’t likely the captain was told not to tell and the Molly and the Deep Heart were sister ships. They always knew each other’s course. Better still, they each always knew where every other ship in the fleet was supposed to be. Papa leaving the Molly in Portsmouth meant nothing. He’d sailed out on the Current Urchin and that would be the ship Mia asked for.
She’d find that ship and Papa because she needed to know if those she included in her family would include her aunts at least. Though it could perhaps include grandparents.
Mary was honestly aghast that her sister lived on thinking their father tried to kill her. She’d no explanation at all for why Molly was set off the ship in the middle of the ocean. She’d sworn they all only thought Molly dead because they received word Molly was lost at sea, swept overboard. She left Mia set to learn if her father had anything at all to do with what happened and she went out raging. She didn’t care if the man was on his deathbed. If it turned out he’d tried to have her sister murdered, she would smother him herself.
Mia needed to know before she had this baby if this baby would have only them or if their child would have more. Devin was trying to rebuild something of his relationship with his own family, but their grief over the loss of all the children was raw and Devin wasn’t pushing to move forward.
The bang of a walk plank hitting the dock made her jump. Damn could the assist boats not assist a little faster? At least if she got aboard the Joy she’d be able to hide from Devin. She stepped back out of the way so the dock workers could assist the people off the smaller ship. A scuffle broke out on deck and Mia watched until she saw one man emerge from the group and run down the plank. When he turned to say something to the people remaining on deck, Mia’s heart stopped. She knew that man. And she knew, too, that he should be dead.
Pulling further back into the shadows and staying as hidden as she could behind the freight, Mia watched Captain Jones. He caught a duffle tossed to him from the deck, set it down, adjusted his clothes, plain sailor’s attire now, picked up the duffle, slung it over his shoulder and made his way casually down the docks towards the street.
The man should be dead. He should have hanged in Port Royal even before she set sail for England. But there he was, alive and looking rather pleased with himself. Mia resisted the urge to call out and alert the people on the docks of the pirate among them. Rather she hauled in her sheets and worked around the crowds and crates. She drifted easily up behind him, but stayed out of sight, so when he did look around he’d not see her.
Mia followed him to the street then down past the shops and inns. Typical of any sailor, he entered the first tavern he came to that didn’t overflow with navy. Mia crossed the street and pushed back into the doorway of a shop not open to wait.
It was near dark when Jones finally emerged. His stumble proved the drink was to his liking and that he’d binged. This was to Mia’s advantage as she again followed the now drunk man further down the street. She knew she needed to stay back enough he didn’t see her, even drunk he might recognize her. And given she was the reason he should have been rotting at the end of a rope, he migh
t not take well to finding her coming hard astern. But as it grew darker and the fog off the ocean rolled in, she didn’t want to risk losing him. She’d find where he was bunking and then she’d find a way to take him. This time, when she got the chance, she’d not give him up until she knew who he worked for and she could watch the life drain from him at her hand.
She hung back when he turned south down a small side street and from her place at the corner she saw him go inside one of the terrace houses. She kept her eye on that doorway for his exit and to keep her bearing straight because each home was an exact image of the one beside it and she’d not yet seen the number on the door to distinguish it from all the others. Staying in the shadows and across the street she stopped and searched the windows on the lower floors. Then on the second level. That was where she saw him. Laughing and trying to pull the woman also in the room against him. Mia’s eyes flashed quickly to the door and the number. Number eight.
It was a good bet Jones would spend some time here if this was a brothel or boarding house. Either one would give Mia some time to get back to the docks, rally the crew of the Joy Chaser and get back here to grab Jones before he could slip away. Then it would be nothing more than taking him back to the ship and casting off. Once at sea, out of English waters, Mia would be free to force the man to tell her what she wanted to know. One more look at the window, and she watched Jones tumble backwards and the woman fall on top of him. She had to hurry.
Turning, she took one step before a hand went over her mouth and an arm wrapped around her waist. She struggled as she was pulled back into the darkness between two other houses. Hearing a grunt and a quiet curse she knew she’d landed at least one good blow, but she couldn’t find a way to use those fighting skills Mr. Hong taught her. And before she could calm down enough to try and think what to do she lost her reason.
“Mrs. Winthrop,” the voice in her ear was familiar. “Stop fighting, before you get both of us captured.”
The hand came away from her mouth the instant she went still. “Mr. Asher?” Mia hissed as she tried to pull free.
“Aye,” Asher said and as Mia turned to face him all she could make out was his shape. “What are you doing down here? Has the captain lost his mind letting you run about this part of town at night… by yourself?” he scolded.
“No, yes, no… I mean,” Mia stammered not sure how to answer the question. No the captain hadn’t lost his mind. She didn’t want a man of his crew to become disrespecting of her husband. But she also didn’t want to announce she was committing mutiny at the moment by being here. “I spotted Jones in port and—”
“Jones? You mean Fayerday?” Asher questioned, stepping sideways enough Mia got a look at him in the light of the gas lamps along the streets. He stopped at the edge of the house and looked up towards the window where it was obvious Jones was still occupied. “He came through port. I thought he might,” Asher said though it seemed he spoke more to himself. “Knew he’d come here, like a good dog he does as told.”
Mia took in as much as she could to help make it easier for her to believe this man was in deed Mr. Asher. He was wholly unkempt, dressed in common seafaring clothes and smelled a bit like rum and cheap perfume. Still there was no doubt this was indeed the ever so proper, if just a bit teasing, Mr. Asher from the royal navy vessel the Iron Rose. Mia watched him look up and down the street and then push back into the darkness to stand in front of her.
“You can’t be here, Mia. The commodore will have a fit. And the captain will keel haul you.”
“Mr. Asher,” Mia started, only to be hushed. How did Asher know Papa?
“Go back to port Mrs. Winthrop, better still, go home. It’s not safe for you here.”
“I’m not leaving until I get Jones,” Mia hissed at him. “Clearly when navy gets a pirate they don’t know what to do with him.”
“Go home, Mia,” Asher commanded.
“I’ll not be ordered about by you, and furthermo—” Asher’s hand clamped down on her mouth again and Mia shifted her eyes to look in the direction of the house they both watched. Three carriages pulled up and only after every man in two of them were out and posted like sentries did the occupant of the last one step out. The carriages pulled a little farther down the street and in the full light of the lamps Mia saw who’d arrived. Her gasp, though smothered by Asher’s hand, appeared to be heard and Mia froze waiting for those who looked around now to go back to standing still and waiting.
Asher eased them farther back between the houses and then lifted his hand from her mouth. He leaned forward and spoke in her ear. “You know that man?”
Mia leaned to whisper in his ear. “That’s Commodore Michelinne.” Mia leaned away and watched the man, the only other besides Papa, who lost not one ship in the attack on Hermosa Alma. He also had not lost any offices or dock crews. He had a presence there, but no one was there that night. Papa’s ships only missed being there because they stopped to render aid to a private vessel on their way in. But Papa’s dock crews and offices as well as his wife and son were lost in the unprovoked attack.
Michelinne operated mostly out of the south of France and had no port of call in England that Mia knew of. So why was he here and why, she wanted to know, as her eyes drifted upward to that same window, was he interrupting Captain Jones?
“Mia, we need to get you out of here,” Asher said and worked his way back between the houses as far as he could go before returning. “Come back this way,” he said taking her hand and trying to pull her along.
“No,” she said jerking her hand free as she tried to keep her eyes on the people passing back and forth before that second story window. It was more than clear the men were familiar with each other and something was amiss between them, but Mia couldn’t tell what. All she could tell was Jones, a known pirate, was consorting with Michelinne, a powerful force in the French shipping industry. Common sense drew her to only one conclusion. Michelinne was directing the pirate activity and it was he who called for the attack on Hermosa Alma.
Mia didn’t even need a second to know why he’d done so. The ships taken out were his competitors. Many unable to recover the cost of the losses they took. That all the ships made port in Hermosa was common knowledge. That the offices of those ships sat mostly to the north side of the port, where most of the cannon fire rained down, was also common knowledge. The only thing that wouldn’t have been easy to learn was the date all the ships agreed to meet. Only someone involved in the shipping business would know the date and whether a majority of ships or only a minority of them would be coming in. That week, a majority sailed in. Only a few were awaited and only a few weren’t coming at all. It was the perfect opportunity for one man to eliminate almost all of his competition. As well, he could buy the silence of those who participated by revealing the routes and cargo of the small private vessels the pirates continued to hit, because he’d have access to that information as well.
Mia stepped forward, ready to march up to the door and bang on it until she stood face to face with the man who killed her mother and brother, but Asher’s hand clamped down on her arm and tried to drag her back. “No, Mia. You’re not going to confront them. You’re going to go back to the docks and alert everyone, the whole of the navy, every sailor you find.”
“No, I’m not. Those men arranged the attack that killed my family and I’m not going to let navy have them again.” Mia snarled. “Look for yourself. That man should be dead and yet there he is not a care in the world. I handed him off to navy once. I won’t do it again.”
“Commodore Dekker stole him away from royal authority. He’s alive and free because of Dekker, you need to go ask him why and how that is.” Asher told her, still trying to pull her back from the house.
“That’s a lie! If Papa had him, he’d have killed him,” Mia said, or would he have? Given everything her papa did in the past that Mia was only learning of, was it possible that her papa was part of the group who sent ships to attack their home? Was it his i
ntent to let Mama die? Mia wouldn’t accept that. Even if Papa was part of the pirate’s group, he’d not have wanted Mama and Charlie, or her dead. And now Mia could recall that Papa said he’d take care of Jones the way that needed to be done. Mia even thought she asked him to take Jones to see the Blood Man. Though Mia had no idea if such a person or thing existed. It was simply how the crews referred to forcing people to give up information. The Blood Man would cut at them until they told what they wanted to hear and then one last cut to finish them.
“Go back, Mia. I’ll stay here and watch them. Get the authorities. It’s enough, I think, that Michelinne is consorting with a pirate to hold him until the commodore brings back the evidence.” Asher shoved her but she came back and tried to move again to the house. “Go, we’ll do it this way if we must.”
“No, you’re not getting rid of me that easily,” Mia said, right before a light blinded her.
“Now what do we have here,” a man’s voice heavy with a French accent rang out, as several men stepped into the alley where Mia and Asher hid.
Asher pushed Mia behind him and turned to face the group. “Nothing what’s your business. Just me ‘n me girl having a disagreement and wot,” Asher said, sounding like an uneducated lout.
“Disagreement?” the man asked and moved his torch so he could better see Mia, who was smart enough to step behind Asher. “Now what’s there to disagree about with such a pretty girl?”
Asher was trying to back them up when a light fell over them from behind. Trapped now, it was going to take a little more than bravado to get them past this crew. Mia abruptly burst into tears and started sobbing. “He’s trying to toss me off, he is. Told what I was gonna have his baby and now he wants to toss me off. Me da’ is what gonna kill me if’in he don’t make me honest a’fore he sails.”
