I leaned forward and kissed his brow again before leaving, headed for the swimming beach. A baby. Sebastian's baby. Yes, I could almost feel Tansy's happiness and hear the song she sang to me in the breeze.
XXXII
Ambergris Caye, British Honduras
August, 1718
Nineteen men and I were gathered together in the caye's warehouse just after sunrise the next morning. The air inside the warehouse was dense with pipe and cigar smoke, the fumes of rum and ale, and the smell of roast pig. Sebastian, Jack Rackham, and I were seated around the head of the table, and the rest of the captains, quartermasters, ship's masters, and boatswains were seated with us, collected around a few tables that had been carried over from the tavern.
“The Jezebel and the Kingston should be the first ships to go out,” Rackham's quartermaster, Mr. Featherstone, was saying. “We are the biggest and best armed, and our crews are the most experienced. We stand the greatest chance of bringing back a lucrative prize, and that's not even mentioning the Jezebel's network.”
A quick glance around the room showed that it was split roughly in half over Featherstone's suggestion. The smaller ships, of course, thought they should be the first to go out in search of a major prize since they were faster and lighter than either the Jezebel or the Kingston, but the rest saw Featherstone's points more clearly. Both ships were large brigantines, each outfitted with at least twenty heavy guns a piece. Their crews had also been together longer and had taken more ships, and as Featherstone had pointed out, the Jezebel had the vast network covering most of the major ports in the area.
As the men broke into another round of shouting, a wave of nausea gripped my belly and I hurriedly stood up, rushing from the room and out the door, to vomit into the bushes that surrounded the place. I felt weak afterward, sweaty and clammy. I straightened and saw Sebastian standing in the doorway, watching me carefully.
“Are you alright?” he asked, coming to take my arm, letting me lean against him. I closed my eyes as the world swam around me. I felt him mopping at my brow and the back of my neck. “Let's go see Ferro.” The note of concern in his voice frightened me.
Soon after we had landed on the caye and cleared a portion of the jungle away, a handful of men had come down with a fever that was accompanied by vomiting and bloody flux. Three had died, but the rest had recovered, though it had been a long, hard-fought battle back to health. Sebastian must have been worrying that I had come down with the fever, too, and I found that I shared his concern.
“What of the meeting?” I asked. “Don't you need to be there?”
“It's sorted. The Jezebel and the Kingston will be going out as soon as possible. We'll head to Havana to see if the spy network has anything for us.”
We found Ferro in the whorehouse, where he was administering mercurial purges to one of the ladies employed there. Not wanting to disturb the surgeon while he was at his job, we agreed to wait for him in his cabin.
“We can wait until you're better before going to Havana,” Sebastian said at length after we'd made ourselves comfortable in the surgeon's cabin. “The Kingston and her crew are capable. Perhaps we could send the Greyhound, too. She's a tidy little ship.”
“No, you should go. The men are restless. If I'm bedridden with the same fever the others had, perhaps I should be quarantined until it's passed.”
“Let's wait to see what Ferro says before deciding for certain.”
Ferro eventually joined us and took some time looking me over. He looked into my eyes, at my tongue, he poked and prodded and eventually sat down in a rickety chair across from Sebastian and I.
His craggy, time-worn face split into a smile and he reached out to clap Sebastian heartily on the shoulder. “Congratulations, Papa!” he said. “I would say the lovely Loreley is two, maybe three months along.”
We stared in open-mouthed shock at first the surgeon and then each other. I tried speaking, only to find that my mouth was too dry to form words. Ferro offered me a sip of water, which I took gratefully. After drinking it, I tried speaking again. “Are you saying... that I'm... That we're... I'm pregnant?”
“Yes! That is exactly what I'm saying.” His face fell and he frowned severely. “You are not happy about this news?”
I looked sidelong at Sebastian, whose face had gone white as bone. His mouth was open and it didn't seem as though he was breathing. I reached out to touch his hand and he blinked, his eyes focusing on me. “We're going to be parents,” he breathed. “We're going to have a child.” A smile dawned on his face and he swept me up into his arms, standing and twirling around as he whooped with joy.
My heart felt as though it was going to explode with happiness. Laughter and tears of joy burst out of me and I clung to Sebastian, surprised and very touched to find him crying as well. I distantly heard Ferro excusing himself, leaving us alone with the news.
We eventually took our seats again, though we sat close enough to touch and our hands were clasped together tightly. “You know what this means, right?” Sebastian asked. I shook my head. “You're no longer allowed to go out roving. You must stay here, where it's relatively safe.”
My face fell and I sighed. He was right. I did not want to risk the safety—or the life—of our unborn child. “I'll stay. But I'm not happy about it.”
He chuckled and pulled me into another hug. “I didn't expect you would be.” He stood and drew me to my feet. “Let's go tell the others. I think Ben will be very happy to hear that he's to be an uncle.”
* * *
We found Ben, Duquesne, Harris, and Weiss the gunner in the tavern, discussing the earliest they believed the Jezebel could sail. We sat down at the table with them and waited for them to fall silent before Sebastian said in a most casual tone, “We need a new quartermaster.”
The others exchanged confused looks and Ben finally asked, “What's wrong with the one we got now?”
“She'll be out of commission for the next six or seven months.”
Weiss was the only one who caught the reference—probably because the man had a wife and children somewhere in the world. He popped up out of his seat and hugged me tightly after pressing warm kisses to both of my cheeks. “Herzlichen Glückwunsch zum freudigen Ereignis!” he crowed, congratulating Sebastian and I on the baby, much to Sebastian's confusion.
“Ich danke Ihnen, Herr Weiss,” I responded as Weiss kissed both of Sebastian's cheeks and grasped his hand, pumping it rapidly up and down as he shook it.
“What's going on?” Harris asked Duquesne.
“She be having a baby,” Ben said and stood up. He moved to stand next to me and took both my hands. He drew me to my feet and caught me up in a rib-crushing hug. “I be so happy for you, girl. You and your man.” He kissed my cheek and smiled softly. “She would be so happy for you, too.” I nodded and hugged him back, tears flowing freely as I thought of our loss. He was right; I could almost hear Tansy's excitement over the news and for a brief moment, I could feel her stroking my head.
The tavern's owner had a single bottle of good claret, which he generously gave to us so the others could toast Sebastian and me before we got down to discussing a new quartermaster. The men ultimately decided to promote Duquesne, which I thought was an excellent suggestion and the other men agreed. To take over his spot as boatswain, Ben suggested Mr. Rossing, and the recommendation was seconded by the rest of the men immediately as well.
I tuned out the rest of the conversation as I thought about being a mother. We certainly had enough money saved up to move to America whenever we wanted, between our shares and the money we'd made selling lumber to passing merchants. We could no doubt buy a large plot of land and farm it, or perhaps purchase two or three ships and set up a merchant company.
I folded my hands over my belly and tried to imagine the tiny life inside. Would it be a girl or a boy? I hoped for a boy, a strong, beautiful boy who had his father's eyes and jaw line. What would we name it? Andrew for his father? Or maybe Geneve for my mot
her?
“Loreley?” Sebastian's voice broke through my thoughts as he gently touched my elbow. “What do you think?”
“I'm sorry. What do I think about what?”
“I be asking if you be wanting me to stay behind,” Ben said. “While Captain is away to sea. Do you be wanting me here? With you?”
“Oh,” I said, blinking with shock. “Well, I hadn't thought of that. Only if that's what you want, Ben. I know Graves made you stay ashore with me to punish you and I don't want you to stay if that's what it would mean to you.”
He shook his head and smiled. “Not no more. Now I stay because I want to. Because you and the baby be needing me.”
“Then yes. I would love for you to stay.”
“Good,” Sebastian said with a sincere smile. “That's settled. When will we be leaving?”
“We can have everything ready to go in three days' time, Captain,” Duquesne responded. “We need only load in supplies and water, appoint Mr. Rossing as the new boatswain, and we can go.”
“Excellent. Then I will see you once more in three days' time. If you'll excuse me, gentleman. I am taking my child and his mother to bed.” He stood, swept me off my feet, and carried me off to our cabin.
“'His'?” I asked once he'd put me down in the hammock and closed the door behind him. “You're certain we're having a boy?”
He nodded, slipped off his boots, and joined me in the hammock. “Yes. I'm certain. And we'll name him Andrew. For my father.”
I smiled and leaned my head against his shoulder. “Andrew Sebastian MacIsaac,” I said. “Sounds perfect.”
XXXIII
Ambergris Caye, British Honduras
August, 1718
A few days after Sebastian and the Jezebel left, I met with Ben in Ambergris's tavern. We ate a small meal—one of many that I seemed to be consuming as my pregnancy advanced—and over small beer and rum, I finally broached a subject that had long been on my mind.
“Ben, I need you to do something for me.”
“Anything. You be knowing this.”
I smiled and reached for his hand, curling my fingers with his and giving them a squeeze. I let go and dropped a wash-leather bag filled with coins into his open palm. “I want you to go to Le Cap and book passage to England for as many people as you can with this money.” He opened his mouth to speak, but I held up a finger, wanting him to wait until I'd finished my request. “Then I want you go to to Manman Vivienne's village and tell her that she's free.”
He stared at me for a long, silent moment. I bit my lower lip, waiting to hear him tell me that I was out of my mind, that I couldn't do this, that Vivienne wouldn't accept my help. Then he shook his head and looked down at the money in the palm of his hand. “Why?” he asked, his voice thick with emotion. “Why you do this?”
“She saved my life, Ben,” I answered softly. “I have the means to repay just a small amount of what she did. Will you do this for me? Please?”
He nodded and then scooped me up in his arms and held me tightly. I could feel him nodding his agreement but he didn't speak yet. Finally, after my ribs felt as though they might be crushed, he let go of me and rubbed the knuckles of his hands under his eyes, dashing away tears before they fell. “I will do this for you and Manman Vivienne and her people,” he said. “And for myself.”
“I think maybe this is my destiny,” I admitted in a small voice. “The one Manman Danto and Papa Legba spoke of. Maybe this—freeing your people—is why the lwa took notice of a European girl. Because I have the means to free them.”
He smiled. “I think you be right.” A corner of his mouth quirked up in a little smirk. “Because there don't be much else about you to take notice of.” I gaped at him for a moment and then playfully smacked his upper arm. He laughed and carefully put the bag of coins on his belt. “I'll leave with the next crew headed that way,” he said. “Be gone no more than two, three weeks, so don't go getting in trouble. There be nobody 'round to save you while I'm gone.”
I gave him a withering glare, which caused him to laugh even more.
* * *
Ben returned from his mission three weeks later, his arms filled with gifts from Vivienne and her family. They had given me hand-carved water gourds, wooden sculptures, baskets woven from sea grasses, and bolts of beautifully dyed cloth. I was amazed by my bounty and led Ben to my cabin so I could put my gifts away.
When everything was in its new proper spot, Ben and I sat on my shaded front porch and he caught me up with everything that had happened while he was in Le Cap. “I booked passage for ten on the Swallow. It be an English trader, bound for Portsmouth,” he said.
“Only ten?” I asked, a bit dismayed at the small number. There was at least twice that number in Vivienne's village.
He nodded. “I thought to give them money for setting up in England.”
“Oh, of course.” Why hadn't I thought of that? “Was she happy?”
“That be one way of saying what she felt. I'm to be thanking you, and she say you be welcome in their home, no matter where that be.”
“And what of the others? The ones who couldn't go? What will they do now that Vivienne's gone?”
Ben shrugged and turned his attention to the bay. “They stay put in Bwa Kayiman. It be safe there, for the time being.”
“As soon as I save up enough, will you go to them, too? Get them to England?”
“Of course.”
I hugged him fiercely, and we sat side by side in silence until Ben was called to help in the warehouse. I remained on my cabin's porch, watching the sun setting over Mexico and wondering how I could continue fulfilling my destiny. Perhaps when Sebastian and I went to America, I could work with larger groups of like-minded people, and free even more slaves.
XXXIV
Ambergris Caye, British Honduras
October, 1718
By the time the rainy season ended, my stomach was noticeably swollen. I had felt the tiny stirrings of the baby for the first time in mid-September. It had felt as though I had butterflies in my belly and I laid awake, talking to him, telling him all of my dreams and hopes for the future, what kind of man his father was, and all about Tansy and my own family. The next morning, when the baby again moved, Ben tried to feel it but couldn't. For now, it seemed, it was a secret that just the baby and I shared.
The Jezebel had returned just once before the end of the rainy season. They had taken a huge prize, a French merchant ship they'd captured just off the coast of Florida. She had been carrying indigo, cotton, tobacco, and sugar to the American colonies. The ship's captain had given up without a fight, and they'd taken the ship as well as the cargo. It was a lovely fluyt called Sirène.
“I knew I had to have her when I saw that name,” Sebastian explained to me as we laid in the hammock, a breeze blowing over our naked skin, the sound of the nightly thunderstorm loud just outside the cabin. “She'll be the first in the new merchant fleet.”
“New merchant fleet?” I asked. “When we go to America?”
“Yes. I think we should settle in Charles Town. We've never roved that far north, so we should be able to have some degree of anonymity. I think Sebastian and Loreley Grant will do well in the Carolina colonies.”
I smiled and cuddled closer. “Does this mean we're to be married?”
“As soon as we can find a priest,” he said, turning his head to lay a kiss against my temple. “I don't relish the thought of my son being a bastard.”
“Nor do I.”
He cupped my chin and tilted my head back to kiss me gently. My body responded to his touch and I carefully climbed atop him to straddle his hips. He smiled and placed his hands over my belly, stroking it gently. “I never thought I'd be a father,” he said. He looked up into my eyes. “Thank you.”
I chuckled softly and leaned forward to kiss him before lowering myself onto him. We'd discovered through trial and error that this was the most comfortable position for me to be in now when we coupled. He held my h
ands as I rode him, the storm outside mirroring the passion and fire inside.
He left the next morning, intent on visiting the Eleuthera colony in the Bahamas, the closest he felt comfortable getting to Nassau. He and the crew were taking the Sirène, with the intent to impersonate French merchants should they be caught by the British warships that were surely patrolling the waters surrounding New Providence. I had tried to talk him out of going, but he wanted to see what had changed since Rogers had arrived on the island.
A week or so after the Sirène left port, Rackham and the Kingston limped in. The ship looked as though it had been on the losing end of a fire fight. Her masts were shattered and her sails had gaping holes in them. The gunwales appeared to have been savaged by a hungry sea monster, and most of the crew who rowed ashore were wounded; many couldn't even move under their own power and were carried to Ferro's surgery by their fellows.
I stood at the end of the dock, watching as Featherstone and Rackham rowed ashore, anxious to hear any news they might have of the Sirène. Rackham's face fell when he saw me, and I felt a thrill of horror snake down my spine. When he hauled himself out of the jolly-boat onto the wooden dock, I rushed to him and grasped his coat's lapels. “What? What is it? Tell me, Jack. What's happened?”
“Captain MacIsaac's been taken, Mistress Jones,” he said, refusing to meet my eyes. “Rogers has him in Nassau. He's to be tried soon.”
Sounds—Rackham and Ben's voices, the water lapping at the timber of the dock, the birdsong and insects and screaming monkeys in the trees around us—suddenly became muted. All I could hear was the whooshing of the blood in my veins and the pounding of my heart. Ben cupped my elbow and it was as if a bubble had popped. All the sounds of the jungle around me came rushing back in and I turned to look up into Ben's face. He looked stricken, scared to his bones. “Loreley?” he asked, his eyes wide, showing the whites like a spooked horse. “You be alright, girl?”
The Jezebel's Daughter Page 26
