Captain Merric

by Rebecca Cohen

  Daniel repositioned himself, leaning back against the wall, bringing his knees to his chest and embracing them. “I needed more of a distraction. I had heard that the love of my life had died and I could show no outward sign of grief to the magnitude it had affected me.”

  Edward could see how stricken he was. “Oh, Daniel.”

  “I wasn’t being facetious when I said that when Edward Merriston died so did I, because that’s how it felt. I threw myself into the role of naval officer. I didn’t want anyone to get close enough to me again so they would be able cause such strife when they would inevitably leave.”

  Edward couldn’t begin to understand how Daniel could close himself off so completely. He’d found relief with others; the physical closeness had helped his malaise. Not cured it but distracted him from it. “That must have been so lonely. You must have taken comfort now and then.”

  “I did not crave it. As a rarity, I would pay for hand or mouth, but that is pretty much the extent of it.” Daniel wouldn’t meet his eye. “I am a hollow man, Edward. You are remembering me as I once was, not the shell I am today. You would be better directing your desire elsewhere.”

  Edward would not do that. Daniel was wrong. He might be broken but he was not unfixable. Edward leaned forward, cupped Daniel’s cheek, making him look at his face. “From where I am sitting, there is no one better.”

  He moved closer, gently brushing his lips to Daniel’s. Oh, how he had dreamt about this, had fantasised in his darkest, drunkest moments that he would once again get the chance to kiss Daniel. The returning kiss was hesitant, and Edward did not try to deepen it, no matter how much he wanted to.

  Daniel pulled away and shook his head. “I’m sorry. I can’t.”

  “Please, Daniel.” He wasn’t above begging, not when he was so near.

  “I am tempted, but my mind is awash with so many reasons not to. We’ve both been drinking, stirring up the past, and to do this now would be a mistake.”

  Edward slowly withdrew his hand. “All right, but only for now.”

  “I cannot promise what you want. Not now, maybe never. And I have to go.”

  Edward somehow found the strength to get to his feet. He would leave Daniel alone for tonight. He was right that their heads weren’t clear, and they had already suffered enough miscommunication, and he would not risk that again. “Sleep well, my love.”

  Leaving Daniel sitting on floor with his head bowed, arms resting on his knees was one of the hardest things Edward had ever had to do. But he would do it for Daniel—but it did not mean he would stop fighting.

  Chapter Seven

  Daniel’s ability to sleep anywhere deserted him. He’d managed a few hours, but his conversation with Edward had left him raw. Over the years he’d convinced himself that emotions were something to be ignored, locked away for the good of his sanity. But finding Edward alive was playing havoc with his defences, and if he wasn’t careful they were going to crumble. He was torn. What he should do was put some distance between himself and Edward, but deep down he didn’t want that. The sensible part of him reminded him again and again of the reputation that followed Captain Merric, the conquests and escapades that made him the darling of every romantic fool, the behaviour fitting for a pirate but not a long-term lover. But his own inner romantic fool was having none of it, and somehow it was that voice that was getting louder and louder.

  It said something about his state of mind that it took a while to realize that they were not under sail. Usually he was acutely aware of the motion of a ship, could tell the wind type and speed by the lurch of the hull, but only now was it dawning on him that they were stationary, the gentle roll to and fro a tell-tale sign they’d weighed anchor. Daniel groaned. That could only mean they’d reached Plesmaya.

  The stories that surrounded Plesmaya were so outlandish that Daniel had always believed them to be more myth than truth; the tales of easy men and women, of gambling and drinking all day and night were intermixed with stories of brawls and honour killings. But having spoken to Edward, seeing the obvious anticipation from the rest of the crew, he was beginning to think the stories might be true. He’d never been, the Royal Navy declaring Plesmaya as ungovernable after a number of aborted raids, and the attempts to clear the area of pirates had only added to the legend.

  He emerged deckside, the crew busy hauling cargo from the hold. The Mirabelle could not have been their sole victim, not judging by the amount of spoils being offloaded. He saw Edward in discussion with Brillack. If the crew were to be on the island to resupply and enjoy their shore leave, perhaps he could persuade Edward he would be better remaining on board. It sounded unrealistic to his own ears, but he could at least try.

  Edward spotted him as he approached. “Ah, good morning, Captain Horton. I was about to send Blot to wake you. Are you ready to explore Plesmaya?”

  Brillack huffed. “You best not call him that. He’ll be gutted before he orders his first drink.”

  “All things considered, it might be wise if I were to remain on the Opal. You have my word I will not try to escape with your ship.”

  Edward’s deep belly laugh was almost insulting. “I don’t think so. You’re coming ashore. No argument.”

  “As Brillack alluded to, I’ll be spotted as a naval man. I’d be lucky to escape in one piece.”

  “Quell your worries. You’ll be with me, and I promise to protect you from any bodily harm.” He winked. “You should be happy to come. The whole point of going to sea is to experience new things, and you will certainly do that on Plesmaya.”

  “If you say so.”

  “I do. You will enjoy it. Tis more of a paradise than Eden.”

  The Opal had weighed anchor about a mile off the golden sands of the small island. With no other choice, Daniel climbed down the rope ladder into a rowing boat, sitting next to Brillack and across from Edward. He was handed an oar, and he ground his teeth as he helped row while Edward basked in the sunshine. The rowing boat weaved around the other ships moored off the headland. Plesmaya was busy, and Daniel was getting more uneasy the closer they got to shore. From Edward’s fond remarks, it was clear that he recognized at least three of the ships. They cut through the waves due to the vigour of the others manning the oars, evidently as keen as their captain to reach the shore. They were heading towards a secluded beach away from the main trading routes—its white sand would maybe have been inviting if it had been somewhere else. Men and women were dancing around the raging bonfires, and behind them were large sand dunes where men could be seen sliding down the slopes.

  Once in shallow water, Edward heaved himself over the side of the boat and dragged Daniel with him. Without being given the chance to gain his balance, he toppled over, landing in the sea with a loud splash and accompanying pirates’ laughter.

  “Daniel,” said Edward, once he’d stopped laughing, “if you’re that eager to get out of your clothes, none of us would have minded.”

  Daniel struggled to his feet and, without answering, waded towards the beach.

  Edward splashed along with him. “Oh, come on, I’m just teasing. You’ll be dry in minutes under this sun. Do you remember that time in Portsmouth?”

  “What? When you ended up in the brine after mistiming a simple manoeuvre? I seem to recall that there was in a rowing boat involved then too.”

  “Hardly simple; it was a great nautical feat, and it took me hours to get warm and dry.”

  “Portsmouth in November is not renowned for its temperate climate.”

  “I could have caught my death.”

  “I doubt that, and I seem to recall helping—” He stopped talking, not wishing to encourage Edward further, especially how they had warmed up. But it appeared it was too late for that.

  “Oh, yes… that was the afternoon you first allowed me inside.” Edward’s mouth curled into a devilish smirk.

  Daniel was saved from further reminiscences by the whoop of excitement as Edward’s men raced past them. Edward, caught up i
n their ebullience, chased after them, but as Daniel watched them run ashore, he suddenly realized he wasn’t happy that Edward had been so easy to dismiss. Dear Lord, he needed to control his emotions. He was up and down more than the waves at the spring equinox.

  Edward had been greeted with a firm embrace by an attractive blond man in his late forties, yet another person who Edward seemed to be inexplicably at ease with. As Daniel set foot on dry land, he noticed the newcomer was staring in his direction in disbelief and that Edward’s expression was hard, even angry.

  “Daniel, I want to show you my home.” Edward gave him no room to argue, already leading him away from the beach towards a small town not far in the distance. “You’ve been recognized, not just a navy man, but as Captain Horton,” he said, almost hissing.

  “I told you so. I will be lucky if I am still alive at nightfall.”

  “Calm yourself. Your neck is safe, but you won’t like what I have heard about your crew.”

  “What?” Daniel stopped on the rough path, resisting Edward’s urges to continue.

  “Walk and talk, Daniel. I know you can do it.”

  “Not until you tell me what is going on.” Here was as good a place as any—no one was close enough to listen, and Daniel wanted answers.

  Edward sighed dramatically but, seeing Daniel wouldn’t budge, started to explain. “I asked Marcel for news of British activity in the vicinity. Apparently, what he heard was that the bastard who was the captain of HMS Expedience was killed while engaging the French. Although evidently not, as here you are. You have run into enough pirates to be recognised… you should be proud.”

  “Killed?” It wasn’t the story he was expecting. Neechals had taken a risk that Daniel would not have survived his ordeal.

  “Yes. The new captain, Neechals, even produced a body.”

  “I wonder which of the poor souls he gutted to imitate me.” The hatred for his ex-subordinate left him boiling with anger. Daniel clamped his jaw shut, fuming at both Neechals and his own impotency.

  “Come on,” said Edward, gently coaxing Daniel along the path. “This way to my house. If you are going seethe, you might as well do so in comfort.”

  The beauty of the surroundings were lost on Daniel. He ignored the local fauna; the wild grasses passed without much notice as they swayed in the sea breeze. The sweet smell of large colourful flowers didn’t catch his attention, and the glorious weather could have been tropical storms for all Daniel cared.

  They entered the narrow lanes made up of taverns and hostels that crowded together and provided all the entertainment a pirate might need. Whores—young, old, male, female—hung around on every street corner, offering a good time for a modest outlay. Brawling men spilled out of inns, fists flying, and crying for vengeance. Daniel dodged a large bald man who was screaming he had been tricked out of his money, clutching a handful of playing cards, all of them aces.

  Daniel was happy to leave the heaving streets behind, letting Edward lead him to a large house on the outskirts of the rambling town. He hadn’t expected Edward’s home to be a small mansion, looking like a scaled-down version of one of the Merriston family’s properties back in England. Its white front and grand staircase were ornate and screamed of wealth. Daniel had heard that a career as a pirate could be lucrative but until now hadn’t realised by quite how much.

  “Welcome to my home, Captain Horton.”

  “I did not expect to find such a house here, and not what I would imagine a pirate to live in.”

  “It once belonged to owners of the sugar plantation, but they decided that being among pirates was not to their tastes. The owner previous to me freed the slaves, and I employ several locals as servants to keep the house and grounds running. Labourers take care of the crops I grow, and those we don’t eat we swop for other things.”

  Daniel couldn’t help but laugh. “Perhaps I should call you Farmer Merric, not captain.”

  “A pirate has to eat. Besides, it would be a shame to leave this fertile ground fallow.”

  A middle-aged black woman stood at the top of the stairs, dressed like no woman Daniel had seen in England. Instead she resembled one of Edward’s crew, in trousers and billowing shirt, and a brightly coloured waistcoat. Long braids spilled out from beneath a red headscarf. “You’re back—a day late. And who’s this?”

  “Last time I checked, I paid you to be my housekeeper not my nanny, Lelia,” said Edward, sounding amused. “This is Daniel. A friend of mine.”

  She looked Daniel up and down. “He seems more respectable that your usual friends.”

  “I’d appreciate it if you’d stop scrutinizing my guests and instead have tea brought to the library.”

  She huffed, turned, and marched away.

  Edward shook his head.

  “She is not like the housekeepers I’ve come across recently,” said Daniel.

  “Lelia is a spirited woman. Feels the need to watch out for me.”

  “Why would that be?” Perhaps she was one of Edward’s lovers, and him turning up with Daniel had annoyed her.

  “I rescued her and her son from drunk idiot who didn’t know the meaning of no. Jerome came aboard the Opal a few years back when he reached sixteen, and Lelia wanted to repay me, so she became my sort of housekeeper.”

  “That’s very noble of you.”

  “I am capable of it. But she was insistent, and I also needed someone with a bit of fight to look after my home while I’m away.”

  “She has that.”

  “There aren’t many people I trust, but Lelia has my complete faith.” Edward led them inside. “Now let’s take the tea I requested.”

  “Tea in the library?” said Daniel. “Hardly the drink of a vicious pirate.”

  Edward snorted with amusement. “There’s nothing wrong with a little civilization now and again.”

  “I’m surprised you remember what civilization entails. Being the scourge of the waves must play havoc with your etiquette lessons.”

  “I was never very good at that sort of thing. You should take care not to watch me eat, I might use a soup spoon instead of a butter knife.”

  “Oh, the horror.”

  Edward guided Daniel through an elegant entrance and into the library, the likes of which Daniel had not seen since leaving England. He’d never considered pirates living somewhere other than a ship, and he would never have thought the infamous Captain Merric would head inshore to a home like this. When Daniel was back in England he was either at rooms he kept or, more rarely, at Himmel Hall with his parents. He envied Edward being able to have a place like this to call his own.

  Edward bade him to sit, and Daniel chose a wingback chair positioned in front of a wall-to-ceiling bookcase. Tea had been laid out, and Edward served them both.

  “You’re looking well for a dead man,” said Edward, watching Daniel carefully.

  “I thought the same about you a few days ago. But this a different turn in the tale than I expected. Neechals had told me I’d be the one accused of mutiny.”

  “But they are difficult charges to concoct. Your whole crew would need to corroborate a story like that, not just the handful of men that it would’ve taken to throw you in a rowing boat. A body damaged from cannon fire could be anyone.”

  “But to say I was killed by the French was no less bold. I had thought that at least some of my men were loyal enough to me for such a story to be exposed.” Daniel stared morosely at his tea. He couldn’t understand where things had gone so wrong. What good was he as a captain if his men would not obey him?

  “I cannot answer that. But even honest men can be swept up in a falsehood. Perhaps Neechals invented a tale of something you had done, and those who were loyal to you thought it better for you to have died than another fate.”

  Daniel appreciated Edward’s attempt to find a reason, and he could only hope he was right. “It does not change the fact that he usurped me, and the navy is swift to punish mutineers. I now need to inform my supervisors of his
actions, but I am probably too late to stop the messages home to inform my father of my death. I must get back to Jamaica immediately; send word back to England—to my father.”

  He’d planned to return as soon as possible, but now with rumours of his death circulating, he wanted to act quickly.

  “I promised I’d get you there, but my men have earned their shore leave. You won’t get reach Jamaica any faster, so just take a few days to recuperate.”

  “But—”

  “A few days here will not hurt in the long run. You need the time to collect your thoughts so you can present your case as best as possible.”

  “Neechals could still be in Jamaica. I could intercept him before he has chance to return to England. Expedience needed some repairs made before she could sail, it may delay him.”

  “If he is as cunning as you say he will have already left—repairs can be made in a hurry with the right inspiration. Even if we sailed straight to Jamaica he has several days’ head start. Do you really think he will still be at Port Royal?”

  Daniel could see Edward’s point, and even if he left now, he had no means of transport, no faster way of reaching Port Royal. It wouldn’t hurt to take some time so he could prepare to meet with his superiors. The last few days had been difficult, finding Edward alive, and his attraction to him as strong as ever. Daniel would have to face a new future, whether Edward was part of it or not. “Perhaps you are right.”

  Edward gave him a fond smile. “Good. Let my servants take care of you. Maybe a bath followed by a change of clothes. Then I’ll show you a couple of my favourite places on the island.”

  “I would like that.” He pulled at the shirt he’d been wearing for that last few days. “A change of clothes would be greatly appreciated.”

  “I’m sure that can be arranged.”

  Edward rang a small bell next to the teapot. Lelia arrived.

  He smirked. “Just passing, were you?”

  “I assume you want something?” She raised an eyebrow in challenge.

  “My guest needs a bath and a change of clothes.”