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Captain Merric

Page 16

by Rebecca Cohen


  Leaving Portsmouth had resulted in a pang of loss as the shores of England dipped beyond the horizon, made worse by being unable to share the reason for his melancholy with anyone else aboard HMS Westbury. The ship was as comfortable as any he’d sailed on, her crew competent and welcoming, and her captain had engaged him in many conversations on navigation and mapmaking. Although he was not officially a member of her crew, he retained his rank. Thankfully that was enough amongst the men to treat him with a respect that meant the voyage was tolerable, although sailing westward added extra time compared to his journey to England. But in truth, he was so desperate to reach Jamaica, that even being busy from morning to night would not have made the distance feel shorter. The days dragged, despite making good speed, and by the time he reached Port Royal, eight weeks after leaving Portsmouth, Daniel was desperate to get ashore. This time he didn’t need to sneak across the headland to get to the town, and his belongings, although barely enough to half fill his travelling trunk, had accompanied him and would be delivered to his new rooms in the Governor’s compound.

  The greyness of England was forgotten as he hurried through the sun-drenched streets of Port Royal, eager to get the next phase of reuniting with Edward underway. He’d spotted at least three unrated vessels that would serve the purpose of charting the local waters, whose firepower was limited and would be no match for the Opal. He was having trouble containing his excitement, his thoughts crowded with Edward and how he couldn’t wait to see him and dissolve into a tangle of limbs.

  Frustratingly, Governor Lawes was busy, but he made an appointment for later in the day and went to claim his rooms. There seemed little point in unpacking. His intention was to be leaving sooner than later; however, if his rooms were left barren then it would be obvious he had not intended to stay. With some time to spare, he headed back into sprawling markets and purchased a selection of things that he could litter around his rooms. Writing implements, a stack of old books, and the odd piece of pottery that might pass as keepsakes. If someone thought he had deliberately absconded, the navy might send someone after him, and so it needed to look as if he intended to return. He still didn’t know how he would spend his time once he was with Edward. The part of him that had been a devoted naval captain spurned the idea of joining the Opal, but there was another louder voice that didn’t want to be separated from Edward for too long while the Opal was at sea. They would have to make sure Daniel wasn’t recognised, something he’d need to discuss with Edward, who would no doubt have a cunning ruse or two.

  Daniel returned to the governor’s residence. Compared to his last visit it was a very different meeting.

  “When I received word you were returning, Captain Horton, I must say I was a little surprised. After all that happened, no one would have blamed you if you chose to remain in England.”

  “I was always intending to return. It was only a matter of time.”

  “And here you are.” Sir Nicholas had a stack of papers on his desk, and Daniel got the distinct impression that the governor thought he had better things to do than see him. “Admiral Wager sent word that you are to continue mapping the waters and should be given use of a suitable ship.”

  “Yes, sir. I saw there were a number of unrated sloops anchored in the harbour.”

  “I think the Nightingale is the best suited. She’s been used for several recent scouting missions, but the region is calmer than it has been for some time. Apart from restocking, she’s ready to sail.”

  “I am keen to begin work. The sooner the area is properly charted the safer His Majesty’s fleet will be.”

  Sir Nicholas selected a piece of paper, jotted something across its surface, and signed the bottom. “Consider it done. Malkin is the captain of the Nightingale, he’s rather… inexperienced, but he has to learn.”

  An inexperienced captain was another boon as far as Daniel was concerned, easier to influence and more likely to make mistakes, and he was sure he could turn this to his advantage. “We are all learning, sir. I will contact him immediately.”

  “I’ll send him his orders and have him ready to sail in two days.”

  That was a little sooner than he’d expected. He would need to send word to Edward, but it might be too late for something to be arranged for this time. “Very good, sir. I’ll see myself out.”

  His priority now was to get word to Edward. Daniel knew that Edward paid good money to be kept informed in all the things he considered important, and he was sure that would have included the arrival of the Westbury. He didn’t want Edward doing something stupid, like turning up at Port Royal where he would have half the garrison on his tail the moment he was spotted. Instead, he wanted to get a message to Edward that he would be aboard the Nightingale in two days’ time and let him know where they would be heading. Maybe he could slip away one night, steal a rowing boat but make it appear like he’d fallen overboard, and head for somewhere he could hitch a ride to Plesmaya.

  The name he had as a contact was Jean-Pierre Chevalier, and it was to him he had sent his letters, using an agreed misspelling of his name to indicate that the message was for Edward. And although Edward had assured Daniel that Jean-Pierre would not read it, Daniel had placed the letter in a second sealed envelope. He’d memorised the address and approached the villa, but upon calling was told the master of the house was not at home and suggested Daniel should try one of the taverns in the alleys behind Main Street. Daniel’s heart sank. There were more taverns and inns in Port Royal than Portsmouth, but when pressed, the servant had no further information.

  Two hours later, hot, annoyed, and with a rumbling stomach, Daniel vowed the next establishment would be his last. He’d ceased to worry if someone had seen him scouring the taverns—he could easily pass it off as searching for an old friend he wished to reacquaint himself with—but trying to find Jean-Pierre was akin to catching a ghost. Like the other God knows how many he’d been to taverns, this one had a low ceiling and stank of stale beer. Men sat in groups playing cards, and a number of women with clothes not decent for London society were weaving in and out to drum up business.

  Daniel headed straight to the counter and the barkeeper. “I’m after Jean-Pierre Chevalier. I was told I might find him here.”

  The barkeeper pointed to a table in the corner where two men were leaving and a third was collecting his winnings.

  Daniel hurried over. “Monsieur Chevalier?”

  The man counting his winnings glanced up, and Daniel was struck by how they shared a certain resemblance.

  “And you might be?”

  “Horton. We have a mutual acquaintance that I need to get a message to.”

  Jean-Pierre looked him up and down and grinned. “It must be you who has tamed Merric.” He kicked out a chair. “Please join me.”

  Daniel glanced around to see if anyone had heard Jean-Pierre use Edward’s name. He sat. “Don’t say his name. I cannot be publicly associated with him.”

  “But you do not deny it is you.”

  Daniel huffed. He didn’t want a drawn-out conversation. “I do not know what you mean.”

  “I do not believe you. Merric had never turned me down before, but last time we met he was not interested, claiming his devotion to another. Now here you are, close enough in appearance that we might be brothers, and it all makes perfect sense.”

  “Maybe to you.” Daniel wasn’t stupid. Jean-Pierre was obviously one of Edward’s old flames. “I need to get a message to him.”

  “I bet you do.” Jean-Pierre leered. “He will be beside himself when he hears you have returned. He was not so happy to be chaste, even if was for a good cause.”

  As pleased as he was to hear that Edward had kept his pledge, Daniel tried to steer the conversation back to what he needed. “Will you send the message or not?”

  “I would no more deny Merric of such joyous news than I would chop off my own leg. But I had not expected his great passion to be so… stiff.”

  “Whatever his passion,
it is none of your concern.”

  “Ah, feisty. Now it becomes clear.” Jean-Pierre leaned over the table. “He was always such a passionate man; he could make my blood boil with just a look.”

  Daniel glowered. “I hope you relish the memories, because there will be no chance for a future tryst. Now if you don’t want me to punch you in your perfect nose, you’ll calm your ardour and agree to deliver my message.”

  Jean-Pierre threw himself back in his chair and laughed. “Your great love affair is in no threat from me. Merric is smitten, and no one man or woman could tempt him. Come, tell me your message, and I will ensure he receives it with urgency.”

  “Tell him his friend will sail on the Nightingale from Port Royal in the direction of Nassau in two days’ time.”

  “I’m sure he will put this information to good use.”

  “I cannot be certain I will have the opportunity, but I will try for Blue Rise Cay. He is not to wait if I am not there as I may not have the chance to leave my ship.”

  Jean-Pierre smirked. “Consider your message delivered.” He shooed Daniel away with his hands. “Now go, it does my reputation no good to be seen with an Englishman.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The wind filled the Opal’s sails, and Edward could barely conceal his excitement as he spotted the Nightingale in the distance through his telescope. Nearly eight months had passed since he’d laid hands on Daniel, and if all went to plan he’d be relearning every last inch repeatedly very soon. He’d been all set to be in Port Royal when the Westbury docked, but Brillack had persuaded him otherwise. Edward admitted he had a point that being shackled in a cell was not going to do him or Daniel any good. Someone would have recognised him, the bounty on his head too great to be ignored, even with his popularity. Then Daniel’s message had arrived confirming he was back in the Caribbean and when he would be sailing and where. Edward knew it would have taken Poseidon himself to stop him going after Daniel. He already knew about the capabilities of the British ships, important information to stop them trying to take on a ship they would have no chance of besting. The Nightingale was an unrated vessel used mainly for scouting, and Edward knew it would put up little resistance to the Opal’s superior fire power. He also knew Daniel would not want him to damage the ship or its crew beyond repair. Edward also hoped that, since Daniel had only joined the crew a few days before, they would have yet to have built up any loyalty and would quickly hand him over to protect the rest of the ship.

  Instinctively, he slipped his hand into the pocket of his coat and stroked the back of the pocket watch. Not long now, and he would be able to give it to Daniel in person. Edward barked out a series of orders, his crew jumping into action. The Nightingale wasn’t a big prize like a merchant ship, but most of the men wouldn’t miss the chance to give the British a bloody nose, especially if the engagement would help restore their captain’s even temper. Edward had tried his best to not allow his frustration to bleed out, but he was only flesh and blood, and his inevitable sour moods had led to some uncomfortable arguments. He should’ve been grateful he hadn’t been dumped overboard, but all that was about to change.

  The Nightingale hadn’t the speed of the Opal, even though it was smaller, and Edward willed on his ship to get closer, and they began to narrow the gap. With the wind on their side they were almost upon them. He gave the order to prepare the cannons with chain shot and to aim for the rigging. Not enough to cause irreparable damage, but enough to give the captain pause for thought if he had the idea to fight back. Cannons were one thing, but the Opal had more men, and once they got alongside it would not take much to overwhelm the Nightingale’s crew. Edward ordered a volley of cannon fire, two of them hitting the Nightingale’s rigging, causing her to lurch to one side and her mast to bend dangerously.

  He clambered up to the side of the ship, looping his arm around a piece of rope to get his balance. The Nightingale was still too far away to board, but he could see her crew scurrying around, trying to secure her mast. He peered through his telescope to see if he could spot Daniel. The first sweep alluded nothing, but on the second he saw two men struggling to drag a third below deck. Edward’s lip curled as he recognised the third man as Daniel. For some reason his crewmates were trying to get him out of the open and Daniel was resisting valiantly, but he was no match for the two stronger deckhands and Daniel disappeared out of view. Minutes later one of the men reappeared, Edward tracked him across the ship, until he handed something to who Edward thought was the captain. Why had they taken Daniel prisoner? He would not stand for that, neither would it stop him removing Daniel from the Nightingale.

  The distance disappeared as the Opal ate up the waves. Finally, with his men braying and their weapons held high they came alongside and were close enough to board. Flying over on ropes, the first waves of pirates landed on the deck, another wave landed at their heels. Hand-to-hand combat was brief and brutal, overwhelming the crew of the Nightingale. Edward gave the order and the gangplanks were deployed.

  Sword held high, he strode aboard the ship and made straight for man he assumed was Captain Malkin, who was on his knees, Carlos keeping him in place with a flintlock pistol. Malkin looked a little on the young side to hold the rank, but nothing bad about his abilities had reached Edward’s ears and Edward suspected Malkin was in charge of the Nightingale to gain some experience. Edward was only too happy to oblige.

  “Where is the wretched mapmaker?”

  Malkin stared at the tip of Edward’s drawn sword, shaking slightly. “Who do you mean?”

  “Horton.”

  “Captain Horton is a valuable member of His Majesty’s navy and under my protection.” The last words came out as almost a squeak.

  Edward had to admire the young fool, still trying to uphold his duty even with a sword in his face. “Listen, I want Horton, and I don’t care who I have to skewer to get him.”

  “He has not done anything to you.”

  “Nothing?” spat Edward, almost amazing himself with his acting skills. “His false map almost scuppered my ship. That is not nothing.”

  “I am sure it was a genuine mistake.”

  Edward pressed his sword lightly to Malkin’s throat. “It’s a simple choice. Hand him over and I will leave this ship with not a man harmed further, or I will empty my cannons into your hull and set this ship ablaze. Killing every last one of you, but at least I’ll have dealt with the bastard.”

  He saw the anguish but also the moment Malkin decided he had other fights he could win. “He is in his cabin. But you will need the key in my coat pocket.”

  Edward reached into the coat and fished out the key. “You locked him in? Why?”

  “That is none of your concern.”

  The whelp was trying his patience. “You seem to forget I have a sword to your throat—that should make anything I ask my concern.”

  Malkin looked torn but finally answered. “I was warned by the governor that Captain Horton had previously had a run-in with you, and he might take any opportunity to settle the slight against his honour. When I saw your ship, I decided he would be better out of the way for his own safety.”

  “A valid attempt, but he signed his own death warrant when he crossed me.”

  He knocked Malkin backwards using his foot. “Make sure he stays put,” he ordered Carlos.

  Edward hurried towards the stairs leading below deck. “You!” he sneered at a man cowering to one side. “Where is Horton’s cabin?”

  “Third on the left after the galley,” he replied, trying to curl into a tighter ball.

  Edward called two of his men to follow him, partly to make sure someone hiding below didn’t try to gift him with a nasty surprise, and partly to help bring Daniel’s belongings. The thrill of boarding a ship never failed to get his heart pumping, but knowing Daniel was only minutes away made him giddy with excitement. Thankfully, none of the Nightingale’s crew felt the need to commit unnecessary acts of bravery by trying to catch them unaware in the
passageway. He already had the key in his hand as they approached Daniel’s room, his impatience getting the better of him as he fumbled with the lock.

  He flung open the door and came face to face with Daniel, or rather the tip of his sword. “If I’d known I would get this sort of welcome I wouldn’t have bothered.”

  For a moment Daniel’s smile was blinding as he lowered his sword. Edward stepped forwards, grabbing Daniel, and pulled him close. God, it felt good to have him back, but as much as Edward desperately wanted to keep Daniel in his arms, he knew the best way to handle this was to make it look as if Daniel was carried off against his will.

  “Once we’re back in my cabin on the Opal I will show how much I have missed you,” he whispered in Daniel’s ear before moving away.

  Daniel shuttered his features. “I see it is my misfortune to meet you again.”

  Edward saw Daniel had his travelling trunk open. He must have been collecting his belongings. He spotted a coil of rope on a desk and turned to his men. “Grab this dog’s trunk—I will take everything he owns and toss them to the four winds.”

  Daniel gathered a couple of things from a table and threw them into the trunk. “Take what you will, I am not scared of you.”

  “You should be. After you nearly wrecked my ship I will see that you are punished in a suitable way.”

  Daniel narrowed his eyes as Edward approached with the rope. “What are you doing?” he said, whispering.

  “I will not take any chances.” Edward grinned and grabbed Daniel’s hands.

  Daniel scowled but didn’t put up any resistance as Edward bound his wrists. It took all his willpower not to touch Daniel more, but the sooner they got of the ship the better.

  He managed to catch Daniel by surprise and haul him over his shoulder, and if he had to rest his hand on Daniel’s arse to keep him in place then that was a lucky coincidence.

 

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