The Bride and the Buccaneer

by Darlene Marshall

  "Do you have an explanation for today's insanity, Mrs. Burrell?"

  "Only members of your crew can share in the prize money, correct? I did not want to be cut off from that income. And I did help. I had my pistol and I was guarding those men."

  "You are my wife! I am responsible for your financial welfare!"

  She sniffed dismissively. "I am not yet convinced that this arrangement has any validity, Captain. And I am certainly not going to leave my financial future in someone else's hands. That is the entire point of my searching for Garvey's Gold. With you."

  "Just when I believe we can come to some sort of accommodation, you make me think I should have dropped you in the middle of the Atlantic and saved myself the aggravation! Do you have any idea how close I am to clapping you in irons for the rest of the voyage!"

  "I thought you said we would likely be in St. Augustine later today?"

  "That was before we started chasing—that's not the point!" He ran his hand through his hair, wondering when the conversation got away from him. Again.

  "You will stay in here until we arrive in St. Augustine, madam! You will not poke your nose abovedecks for any reason. Am I clear?"

  She looked at him curiously. "I do not know why you are so upset. If I had been killed aboard that Spanish ship, you would not be responsible for me any longer."

  He stared at her. Truly, her mind worked in a fashion so alien to his own he could spend years trying to figure out what was going on in her brainbox.

  Not that he wanted to, of course. He took a deep breath and tried again.

  "Sophia, I understand you have had to do for yourself for a long time. But now, like it or not, you are my responsibility. I am charged with your safety because you are my wife." He made a gesture for silence when she would have responded. "Besides, if something happens to you, I will be unable to find the gold on my own. I need you, Sophia, healthy and able to search for the treasure."

  That, clearly, was an argument she understood.

  "But I did help out today," she ventured. "Will I get a share of the gold from the ship?"

  Pluck, brass, and insanity in one compact package.

  "You are not officially a member of this ship's crew. Nonetheless, if it will keep you from haranguing me further on this, I will distribute to you a portion from my share. Satisfied?"

  "Yes," she said promptly.

  "Good." He rose from the table and pointed a finger at the miscreant before him. "I meant what I said, though. The crew knows you disobeyed my orders and you will stay here as punishment until we dock. Is that understood?"

  She nodded her acceptance, and he left her there to dwell on her

  numerous sins while he went back to work.

  * * *

  "It's a good haul, Captain."

  Jack agreed with Mr. Rice's assessment. The crew was swaggering, telling tales of what they were going to do with their share of the prize monies.

  "This is an excellent time to take the Jade back to Savannah. This time I can pay cash to have the work done."

  Rice grunted his agreement while he went through his papers.

  "Aye, Captain." Rice didn't look up from the numbers he was totaling. "Shall I call on your mother while I'm in Savannah?"

  Jack winced. He knew eventually he would have to tell his family something, but the longer he could put it off, the better he'd feel about it.

  "Only if you can do so without discussing me. I would rather they not find out about my marri—about Sophia until I am there to explain myself. I will write you a letter, though, to take to my mother."

  Jack went below and found Sophia, still dressed in her boy's clothing, stretched out on his bunk and reading Fanny Hill. She sat up when he entered the cabin, but he told her to stay where she was, and he took writing materials from his desk.

  "Dear Mother," he started...and then stopped, all the words stuck in his blank mind. What could he possibly say that would make any sense—I am married to a thieving little tart whom I met when I took her hostage, and then she robbed me, and now we 're haring off after pirate treasure?

  That would be likely to get his mother on the first packet down from Savannah!

  He sighed, and put pen to paper again.

  "I am well. Please ignore any bizarre stories you hear about me. I assure you, the truth is something that can only be learned from me alone. I have business here keeping me from returning home in the foreseeable future. Please give my regards to Malcolm and the girls. Your loving son, Jack. "

  There. That should keep a lid on things until he could return home. He studied the young woman lying on his bunk, her eyes fixed on the page before her. She was still an enigma to him, but the more time he spent with her, the more he realized she wasn't like anyone he'd ever met before and he'd do well to remember that. One couldn't rely on Miss Sophia Deford to do the expected, and it looked like Mrs. Burrell acted the same way.

  "We might still make St. Augustine later today," he said abruptly.

  Sophia looked up from her reading, and appeared to be judging his mood before answering.

  "That is good news. Will we go ashore when we get there?"

  "Yes. We'll take a chance that Captain Roberts alerted his housekeeper that we would be staying at his house."

  Sophia's eyebrows rose. "I confess to being a bit surprised you are taking him up on that offer."

  Jack shrugged. "It will be more comfortable than an inn. Provided, of course, Captain Sinister isn't under the same roof with us.

  CHAPTER 13St. Augustine was a cosmopolitan piece of Europe bordering the new United States. With Florida tossed like a shuttlecock between Spain and England, the Americans were poised to seize the territory of East Florida and shore up their coastline, eliminating the foreign threats from their southern shores.

  "See? A perfectly respectable establishment," Jack said when he ushered Sophia into Captain Roberts's home on St. George Street. The two-story house had a stuccoed lower floor, its creamy walls reflecting the afternoon sun, and a wooden second story with a balcony. It did indeed look like the abode of a prosperous sea captain, neatly maintained if sparsely furnished. There were no pictures on the wall, none of the little touches making a house a home.

  They were greeted by Morgan Roberts's housekeeper, Senora Alvarez, who, to Sophia's relief, spoke English. Not knowing Spanish put her at a disadvantage and she hated being dependent on Jack to translate for her. She'd been feeling cross and out of sorts all day, and not being able to understand the servants would have only added to her feelings of ill-use.

  They received a quick tour of the house. Its vine-shaded patio near the detached kitchen was a cool spot in the already hot afternoon, and a pitcher of lemonade and two glasses sat on a small table with some cakes alongside. The housekeeper's thoughtful gesture brought a smile to Sophia's face, and she gratefully accepted a drink. Senora Alvarez had supper cooked, a pork roast and squash and tomatoes cooked in the kitchen's fireplace, and all appeared to be ready for them.

  "Captain Roberts said you would be staying here on your wedding journey, Senora Burrell," Luisa Alvarez said, flashing a gap-toothed smile in her weathered face. "My husband Pedro and I take care of the Captain's home and also have a vegetable stall in the Plaza. He is gone so much, the Captain, there is too much that would go to waste, so I am glad you are here."

  Sophia leaned close to Senora Alvarez and talked to her in a low voice.

  "Of course, I will send up a hot brick right away! Is there anything else you need?"

  Sophia shook her head.

  "No, I have everything with me. Thank you."

  "Not at all! You rest and perhaps you will feel more the thing by supper."

  Jack followed Sophia up the staircase to the second story, and into the spacious bedroom whose balcony looked out over the street. When Sophia emerged from the water closet a few minutes later, Jack was watching her.

  "Sophia? Are you well? You look rather wan."

  Sophia walked over to t
he window and fussed with the shutters.

  "Sophia?" Jack said, stepping closer.

  She looked over her shoulder at him, and she felt hot color flare through her face.

  "It is an indisposition that will soon fade," she said, but then winced and pressed at her lower abdomen.

  It took Jack a few moments, but he did have sisters.

  "Oh. Is there anything I can do?" he asked, though the expression on his face said he was half-hoping he could exit as quickly as possible.

  She turned away from him and looked out the window. "No, Mrs. Alvarez is bringing me a hot brick, and then I think I will lie down until supper."

  Jack turned to leave, but then stopped mid-step and walked over to where she stood at the window. When he put his hand on her shoulder she froze, but he said, "You are so tense, no wonder you ache."

  He put both hands on her shoulders and started to rub, easing his thumbs down her back to encourage the muscles to relax. She wasn't used to being touched, but Jack's hands were magic on her stiff muscles, and she could feel herself softening and relaxing against him as her cramps eased.

  "Why are you being pleasant to me?"

  "It...I don't know..."

  Her head was still turned toward the window and she couldn't see him, but the corner of her mouth lifted in a smile, because she could imagine him with that "Now, what?" expression she saw so often on his face in his dealings with her.

  "It is your nature, Jack, you cannot help yourself. Like that time in the cave, when you were worried about me. My governess told me a fable once. She thought I would find it edifying."

  He continued to rub her back, and she continued speaking.

  "A scorpion befriended a frog who became a loyal companion to him. A time came when the scorpion needed to cross a river, and asked the frog to carry him on her back to the other side of the river. The frog said, 'You will sting me with your tail!' But the scorpion said he wouldn't do that, for then they would both drown. The frog believed him, and the scorpion climbed on her back and she started to swim across the river. Halfway across, the scorpion stung her with his venomous tail. As she floundered in the water the frog said, 'Now we shall both die! Why did you sting me?' The scorpion only said, sadly, 'It is my nature.'"

  Jack stopped rubbing her back. "I'm confused. Am I the scorpion or the frog?"

  A knock on the door interrupted the conversation as the housekeeper brought the hot brick wrapped in flannel. Jack helped Sophia into bed and tucked her in with her brick.

  "Get some rest, Mrs. Burrell. I will be down at the wharf."

  She pulled her brick tighter against her, and thought it a poor substitute for what Jack had done for her sore muscles. As Jack closed the door behind him, she thought, too, about how this was one more night she'd be free from his husbandly attentions, but that thought no

  longer pleased her as it once had.

  * * *

  When Jack cautiously poked his head into the bedroom he was cheered to see Sophia up and bustling about, unpacking her cases. He'd told her they'd use this house as their base of operations, since Luisa Alvarez had assured him Morgan Roberts would not be in the area for weeks. The less encounters Jack had with Roberts the better he felt about it, since Captain Sinister could be unpredictable. Jack had enough on his plate dealing with his wife and her treasure hunt.

  He watched her now, unseen, admiring the trim little form. It amazed him he'd ever mistaken her for a youngster, given the sweet curve of her hips. There wasn't much of her, but he was coming to appreciate the good things that came in small packages. He remembered what she'd looked like this afternoon lying in a bed built for an oversize pirate, and how much he'd wanted to crawl in with her and continue massaging her.

  Sophia must have sensed him, for she looked up and smiled, and for a moment he couldn't catch his breath. This smile was genuine and warm, not the masking smile she too often wore. It made her look...more human. More accessible. More like the warm little cat he imagined she could be if she was stroked and petted until she purred.

  But that was a direction his thoughts didn't need to take, not with her current status. He smiled back at her and said, "We have an invitation to a supper tomorrow evening, Sophia. Word of our marriage, as I predicted, reached town with Captain Roberts and we're invited to dine with the governor. Since St. Augustine society loves an excuse to gather and socialize, I predict it will be a sizable affair."

  Sophia went to the wardrobe and examined her clothes.

  "Will there be dancing?"

  "Of course! The Spanish love to dance, and the people here latch onto any reason to have a fiesta—saints' days, military victories, visiting American newlyweds—any excuse is a good one."

  "I will ask Mrs. Alvarez to press one of my gowns for tomorrow evening. I imagine the guest list at the governor's would be a little more selective than at Captain Aury's?"

  "Yes, I cannot promise you pirates this time."

  "Except for you, of course." She smiled at him.

  "Madam! I am a respectable American merchant!"

  "Is that how we are playing this?" Sophia asked, brows raised.

  "Considering the state of affairs between Cartagena and the Spanish authorities, it would be best to be circumspect."

  "Speaking of pirates, did you gain any insights into Captain Garvey's clues while you were out today?"

  He shook his head and walked over to the table where there was a pitcher of water from the well outside. When he was on land he could never get enough of fresh water.

  He watched her as he drank. Despite the springtime heat and her earlier indisposition, she looked as fresh as if she'd just stepped out of her parlor. In other circumstances, Sophia Deford Burrell might be the

  kind of woman a man would be proud to have on his arm. Bright, attractive, socially graceful.

  If only she weren't such a larcenous, greedy little chit.

  "No, I was busy down at the wharf and needed to take care of business first. But tomorrow, if you feel up to it, we can take a walk around the town and perhaps we will gain some insights into Captain Garvey's disordered mind."

  "I would like to see the city," Sophia said. "Tomorrow I know I will be back to my usual form. And if we do not figure out the clue during the day, perhaps at the evening's events we might get lucky and learn what we need to know."

  Jack grunted. He'd been thinking the same thing.

  "Captain..." Sophia hesitated and it put Jack on guard that she was calling him "captain" rather than by his name.

  "Yes?"

  "Mrs. Alvarez had all our trunks stashed in here. Is it your intention to sleep here tonight?"

  Jack looked at her steadily and noted while her face was as calm as ever, the dress in her hands was wadded in a tight grip. He leaned against the wall and smiled at her, a smile that made her clutch her dress tighter.

  "Yes, Mrs. Burrell. I will be sleeping beside you tonight, and every night until this adventure is finished."

  Let her stew on that for a while. If it threw her off guard, so much the better for him. He knew by now only a fool let this woman get any advantage over him.

  Supper was not as tense as it would have been had Sophia's condition been otherwise, focusing her mind on the marriage bed. Instead they enjoyed each other's company, talking about the businesses Jack dealt with in the town.

  "It is an odd place, St. Augustine. First it was Spanish, then British, now Spanish again and likely soon to be American. The British would enjoy having a stronghold at the southern end of the United States, but they're not going to press their case with the war so recently over. They will have to content themselves with the Bahamas and other possessions nearby."

  "Are most of the merchants here Spanish or British?"

  "Both, plus you have a population from other parts of Europe, and American Loyalists who settled here during the Revolution. There are also numerous Indians who congregate on the outskirts, trading goods

  in the market and coming into t
own for ammunition and liquor."

  Sophia toyed with her glass of wine. It was a fine Canary, but Jack noticed she didn't take more than a swallow.

  "Isn't the wine to your liking?"

  "Oh, it is excellent," she said. "But I learned long ago wine can go quickly to my head. I believe it is because I don't have a large frame to distribute it through."

  Now that was an interesting bit of information Jack could tuck away in his mind. In vino Veritas was more than just an aphorism, and Sophia under the influence of spirits might be willing to reveal more of her mind's inner workings than he'd been able to pry out of her to this point.

  After supper they played a game of chess. Jack barely beat his young bride, and had to promise to allow her a chance to recoup her losses later.

  When Jack entered the bedroom later, Sophia was already under the covers, her soft white-blonde curls fluffed out on the pillow. She was at the far edge of the bed and had her eyes closed, but he knew she wasn't asleep. No one sleeping had their hands clenched on the bedding.

  "I'm glad Luisa hung the mosquito net," Jack said. "That's how you can tell summer is coming, when the biting insects return with the heat."

  He sat on the edge of the bed next to her.

  "Sophia."

  She opened her eyes and looked at him calmly, but he took her stiff hand in his and rubbed his thumb over the palm in small circles, stroking her fingers open.

  "I am not a cad, Sophia. I have no intention of imposing myself on you during your indisposition."

  "What about when I am not indisposed?"

  "That is a conversation for another day. But we will share this bed. And future beds."

  He rose from where he sat, blew out the candles and walked around to the other side, slipping beneath the covers next to her.

  "Go to sleep, Sophia. We have a busy day tomorrow."

  At first he thought she'd already drifted off, but then he heard her say softly.

  "Goodnight, Jack. And thank you."

  In a few moments her breathing evened out and she was asleep, but Jack spent too much time staring up at the mosquito net and thinking