The Bride and the Buccaneer

by Darlene Marshall

  Sophia expertly shuffled her deck, fanned it out, flipped the cards back, to Mick's wide-eyed acclaim, and promised to show him at a future date how to handle the deck. She explained the rules and soon the two were deep in play.

  "Play the eight, Mick, or she'll take every button off your shirt."

  She wished once again the light-footed captain would put on a pair of boots so she would hear his approach.

  "No one appreciates someone who mixes in another's card game, Captain."

  "I thought I should step in before Mick starts betting his shares in the Jade's prizes."

  "Are you a wealthy man, then, Mick? Maybe I should set my cap for you myself."

  Mick had jumped to his feet at the captain's arrival, but was still holding his cards, close to his chest.

  "Mick, you are relieved of duties here, and are needed in the galley. Miss Deford, perhaps you can amuse yourself for a time. We will be eating luncheon shortly."

  Sophia looked up at the sun high overhead. Her morning playing with Mick had been so enjoyable she'd lost track of time.

  "You played well, Mick. Keep working at your figures and you will develop skills that will help you in many situations, not just cardplaying."

  "This is true, Mick," the captain said sternly. "If you wish to navigate your own ship, mathematics are the key to staying on course and being able to read your charts. Now, off with you and get yourself ready for dinner. And as for you, Miss Deford, perhaps you can find a solo activity to occupy you and keep you from getting underfoot."

  "I have mending I could be doing, Captain Burrell. I will stay out of your way and do that."

  Jack held out his hand to help her to her feet, and she took his warm, sun-browned hand in hers. He pulled her up, but then dropped her hand like it burned. He was frowning again.

  "Miss Deford, I hesitate to ask, but could I impose on you to do some mending for me as well?"

  He looked uncomfortable at the idea of asking her to do anything for him, but she said, "It is not an unreasonable request, Captain. Give me your mending and I will add it to my pile. And I promise not to sew your flies shut."

  Sophia went down the ladder to the cabin and took her sewing kit and his clothes. While baiting Captain Burrell was satisfying, there was wisdom in not constantly being at hammer-and-tongs with a man who held her life in his hand. Sewing on a few buttons would help smooth relations, and cost her little.

  Keeping her resolution in mind, they had a pleasant lunch, and

  afterward Sophia stayed in the cabin to read.

  * * *

  Jack found her, sprawled out on his bunk, his copy of A History of New York dropped in the covers. She was oblivious to his presence, making up for her stint in the hammock the night before.

  Jack watched the sleeping Miss Deford, the faint rise and fall of her chest, and in this guise, unguarded and unawares, she looked very young indeed. He didn't like that. It stirred his protective instincts, though at the moment he was feeling nothing like an older brother to her.

  It still made the most sense to drop her over the side—if not here, in Fernandina— and put Sophia Deford out of his life forever.

  Instead, he pulled a cover up over her, and walked quietly out of his cabin.

  * * *

  Sophia was surprised when Captain Burrell agreed to her request to go ashore with him and the men, but he only said, "I like having you where I can keep an eye on you, Miss Deford. If I left you aboard the Jade, you might steal it."

  Sophia found it flattering Captain Burrell considered her so dangerous. On the other hand, she did want to go ashore, so she was in a cheerful mood as the men rowed them to Key Marquez.

  Jack jumped into the surf and pulled her up into his arms to carry her to the beach.

  "Do not drop me," Sophia gasped out, so naturally, he pretended his grip slipped just to make her yelp. But he didn't drop her.

  "Do you swim, Miss Deford?"

  "No, Captain, it is a skill I do not have. There was no one who could teach me, and I feared trying it on my own."

  "That, at least, shows wisdom, Miss Deford."

  He set her down and, looking at her feet, said, "You might want to take off your shoes while on the beach. But don't wander off. Always stay in sight of me and the men." He was gazing past her shoulder into the trees as he said this, and when Sophia saw where he was watching, she gasped.

  A red Indian stood at the edge of the beach, watching them. The sailors ignored him, but Jack said, "Stay here," and headed across the sand. She almost ran into his back when he stopped and turned to frown at her.

  "I have never seen an Indian before, Captain Burrell. Is he dangerous?"

  "Not by himself, but I don't know if there are more back in the woods." He looked like he was going to tell her to go back to the boats, but he just shrugged and headed up the beach.

  The Indian watched them impassively, and when they were closer Sophia saw he had a deer at his feet, and he kept a musket cradled in his arms. The man's eyes flicked once in her direction, then came back to rest on Jack.

  Jack stopped a few yards from the man and greeted him in Spanish, and the Indian replied in kind. It was obvious from his gestures he was offering the deer in trade, but Jack just shook his head at the first query, and then the two settled down to some serious haggling.

  Sophia watched with interest, and wished she spoke Spanish so she could follow the discussion. The Indian was dressed in a leather clout and a calico shirt, with silver ornaments in his ears and long hair. He looked to be young, just out of his teens, but the tattoos on his face and arms made his age hard for her to judge.

  She really, really wished she spoke Spanish when the Indian looked at her again and then posed a question to Jack, who started coughing. He looked at her, grinned, but then turned back to the Indian and shook his head, speaking again in Spanish. The Indian looked mildly disappointed by what Jack said, but pointed at the deer, then back over his shoulder to the woods and gestured at the men on the beach.

  Jack nodded, and the two rose to their feet and shook hands on their deal.

  The Indian headed back into the woods, without his deer, and Jack turned around to walk back down to the boats, still grinning.

  "I insist you tell me what went on between the two of you," Sophia said. "I know it involved me because of the way that Indian gestured, and because you are grinning like a moonstruck fool."

  "Oh, Miss Deford, your value to me just keeps increasing by the hour. That gentleman wanted to make a trade, all right. He wanted to trade for you."

  "He wanted to trade the deer for me?"

  Now Jack's grin looked like it would split his cheeks.

  "No, he acknowledged you were too small to be worth a full deer. He wanted to trade two possums for you."

  And with that he started laughing so hard he had to sit down in the sand. Sophia resisted the urge to kick him.

  "Opossums? Aren't they some sort of rodent?"

  "Oh, Miss Deford, I would not trade you for just any kind of rodent! Possums are ugly rodents!" And it set him off into a fresh round of laughter.

  "Given the hilarity you are finding in this, I am surprised you did

  not agree to his request!"

  "Well, I was tempted, I admit." Jack rose to his feet and brushed the sand off his legs. "But I told him I would only take three possums for you, and not a possum less. He was not willing to go that high."

  "Very droll, Captain. What did you trade for the deer?"

  Jack sobered and said, "He wanted firearms and rum, but I said I wouldn't trade those. We settled on goods for his women—kettles, beads, cloth. We have enough problems with the Indians without arming them with more guns or liquor to rouse their passions."

  "Are you expecting the Indians to attack you?"

  "Did I not mention that when I warned you about Florida's dangers? As the white men move in, the tensions with the Indians mount. I expect we Americans will eventually push the Spanish out, weak as the
y are, and move in settlers and cattle."

  "What of the Indians then?"

  Burrell sighed.

  "They will be caught in the middle and are already unhappy with American incursions over the border. If enough Americans come in, the Indians' only hope is to move farther into the interior, where no white man would want to live amidst the sawgrass and fevers. But many of those Indians are runaway blacks or their offspring, the 'maroons,' and they'll fight fiercely to keep the white man away. The cost to them is too high otherwise."

  "Captain Starke was incensed over the illegal slave trade in Florida."

  "It is a problem," Burrell admitted, running his hand through his hair. "Blacks are a valuable cargo, and without a strong naval presence in these waters, the profit outweighs the risks for the smugglers. Georgia and the territories are close enough to Florida slaves can be moved inland easily, and whenever you have money to be made, there are opportunities for mischief."

  Sophia bit her tongue to say nothing of Cartagenan privateers stopping British ships. Baiting him could only be taken so far. They walked in silence, but she couldn't hold back.

  "You would take three possums for me?"

  "And not a possum less."

  When they got back to shore the men were loading the casks onto the ship and Jack sent some crew back to the Jade to fetch the trade goods and get the deer.

  "They'll dress it here on shore and we'll dine on venison steak

  tonight," Jack said to Sophia as he helped her back into the boat.

  She wished they had spent more time on Key Marquez, but once they had the supplies Jack was anxious to continue up the coast to Fernandina. After a supper that was amazingly good—it was a wonder the difference fresh food made—Sophia spent the evening playing cards with Mick before giving the hammock a return engagement.

  When she re-entered the cabin Jack was sitting up in his bunk again, arms crossed over his chest as he grinned at her.

  "Another night, another go at the hammock, eh, Miss Deford?"

  Sophia ignored him and studied the contraption in front of her. This time, she pulled a small chest over to the hammock, stepped atop it, and pulled the side of the hammock toward her. Gingerly turning on her tiptoes like a dancer, she pulled the side of the hammock taut and carefully lowered herself into it, holding her breath. She managed to get her bottom into the hammock and while it swayed dangerously, she was firmly planted in it, her arms bracing her on the sides.

  She looked over at Jack Burrell in triumph, but he wasn't grinning any more. Sophia looked down and realized her knees were still spread to distribute her weight, and her nightrail was slipping off her shoulder.

  "Seeing you in the hammock like that, the way it's swaying back and forth, gives one ideas," Burrell said softly. "If I was to—"

  "Good night, Captain Burrell!"

  Holding onto the sides of the hammock, Sophia swung her legs in, then retrieved the pillow and blankets from beneath her head. She was getting more adroit at this. She looked back at Captain Burrell in time to see him throw the covers back and rise from his bunk. She refused to look away, not wanting to give him an edge over her.

  It was obvious from his condition he was still thinking about what he could do with her in the hammock.

  Sophia couldn't help the rush of color flooding her face, but she said nothing when he retrieved his chest and moved it back where it belonged.

  "I would not enjoy stubbing my toes in the dark," he said over his shoulder as he climbed back into his bunk. "Good night, Miss Deford. Try not to fall out onto the deck."

  It was stunning to realize Captain Jack Burrell looked every bit as good from the back as from the front, Sophia mused, just before he blew out his lamp.

  CHAPTER 8"A sail, Cap'n!"

  The cry from aloft brought the crew to a flurry of action, which Sophia observed with interest from where she was seated near the mainmast, the never-ending mending at hand. Once the crew learned she was, as Mick said, "a dab hand with a needle," they were all approaching her with their ragged bits and pieces.

  But the pay was good, Sophia smiled to herself. So far she'd earned a set of carved bone buttons, one pearl earring (Ralston was wearing its mate), a rather nice bag of clay marbles from Mick, which she gave back to him to hold until they made land, and from the captain, a cessation of comments on her backside as she climbed in and out of her hammock. Which, to her surprise, was becoming a comfortable berth. She didn't fall out anymore, and last night slept through, rocked like a babe in its cradle by the motion of the ship.

  The captain hadn't yet noticed she was embroidering on the smallclothes he kept for trips ashore. She was amused to think of what he'd say when he discovered his flies were now decorated with daisies.

  All things considered, life aboard a privateer had so far been mostly mundane. The men went about their tasks like any other ship's crew, and they treated her with respect leavened with a bit of curiosity. Once they determined she was to be a passenger for a length of time, they opened up and chatted with her as she sat on deck, shaded from the tropical sun by a canvas awning.

  Captain Burrell tolerated it, up to a point, but he and Mr. Rice made it their habit to be sure none of the men spent too long chatting alone

  with Sophia.

  Now the men were rushing to their posts and ignoring her, Sophia set aside her sewing and rose to her feet. Were the privateers going to take another ship? Or if the Jade itself was taken, what would become of her?

  Her greatest fear at the moment was that Captain Jack Burrell would get a better offer for her than three possums, but she held on to the belief he was more interested in Garvey's Gold than he was in

  getting rid of Miss Sophia Deford.

  * * *

  Jack was watching Sophia sewing, her nimble fingers fondling his undergarments. He frowned and turned away from her to stare out to the west, but his eyes were brought to starboard by a call from aloft.

  "A sail, Cap'n! Three points off the starboard bow!"

  Jack shaded his eyes and he could see it now, a schooner rigged fore-and-aft. This wasn't a good sign, since schooners were the favored vessels of—

  "Pirates!" the lookout yelled. "It's the Zephyr!"

  "Damnation," Jack said to himself. It would be just his luck that out of all the pirates in the Caribbean, his ship would come across the Zephyr.

  The schooner was also flying Cartagenan colors. No doubt the Zephyr carried a letter of marque from the fledgling republic, full of official seals and ribbons, and about as meaningful as a parrot's chatter. Jack knew this since he had a similar letter of marque.

  "Cap'n, he's signaling he wants to parley," the lookout called.

  The Zephyr's gunports were closed, and she looked innocent enough. Plus they had the advantage of the wind while the Jade was on a lee shore.

  "Haul back, Mr. Rice. We shall see what Captain Sinister wants."

  "That pirate's name is Captain Sinister? What kind of a name is Captain Sinister?"

  Sophia came alongside Jack and was watching the oncoming schooner, her hand shading her eyes. Behind her, the crew hustled to grab small arms. When it came to meeting up with other privateers, being armed helped guarantee polite discourse.

  "You may ask him yourself, Miss Deford. However, I suggest you address him as Captain Roberts, which is his true name."

  The schooner came ever closer, and in a flamboyant snap of sheets and yards braced up, and Jack admired the maneuver, suspecting the Zephyr's captain was at the helm. When it was within hailing distance a man with a horn called over to salute the Jade and asked if Captain Burrell might be available for a parley?

  Rice called back it would be convenient, and invited Captain Roberts to come over to the Jade. The Zephyr called back it would be better if Captain Burrell came aboard the Zephyr, as Captain Roberts's guest. Oh, and he should bring the young lady with him.

  "I must insist, Captain Burrell," Roberts himself called out. "A pretty face will brighten our con
versation."

  Jack cursed roundly, not caring that Miss Deford was standing alongside him. He should have insisted she stay below where she wouldn't be spotted by the Zephyr, but it was too late now.

  "Very well, we will join you aboard your ship, Captain," he called back. He turned to Sophia and eyed her up and down.

  "You will do for dining aboard the Zephyr. Before we leave, I have some advice for you, Miss Deford. No matter what you see or hear, be on your best behavior and do not cause trouble."

  "Captain Burrell—" she gasped out angrily, but he cut her off.

  "There are two kinds of women in Sinister's world. Ladies and whores. If you want to be treated like the one and not the other, go along with what I say."

  That silenced her. She went below and when she returned Jack picked her up in his arms and carried her down the ladder to the waiting boat, and after Sophia settled herself and unfurled her parasol, they were rowed over to the Zephyr.

  It was a larger vessel than the Jade, and riding low in the water. Sinister must have come across some other hapless ship prior to spotting the Jade, which bode well for Jack and his possessions. A pirate flush with booty was a happy pirate.

  When they came aboard they were met by the Zephyr's navigator, Olivera, who told them the captain was below and offered them a glass of wine while they waited. Sophia took hers with a smile for the sailor who served them, then looked around the ship with interest after taking a small sip and setting the glass down. Jack also took the wine, but his look around the ship took in the armed sailors and the guns behind their closed ports, this last observation helping him relax a notch. He knew Rice would keep the men on their toes while he was off the Jade, ready for any tricks from the other vessel.

  Jack saw Sophia's head whip around and heard her sharp intake of breath as she moved in closer to his side. She'd spotted the pirate bearing down on them, a massive brute with a wild beard and hair flying out from beneath his palmetto hat. He could have been mistaken for a nimble Barbary ape dressed in men's clothes, except Barbary apes couldn't come close to the size of this behemoth.