A Captain's Destiny

by Marie Caron

  “Please sit down, my dear. You are being disrespectful to our guest. He has traveled a long way to make this offer. The man clearly had his heart set on marrying you, and I think you would be wise to accept his gracious offer. After all, you are tarnished goods now, daughter, and damned lucky to have any decent man ask for your hand,” he finished hotly, wiping his florid, damp face with his napkin.

  Katherine collapsed back into her seat, and their guest gave her an understanding look.

  “I can assure you, Miss Conlon…Katherine…that I have the utmost regard for you. Obviously I am familiar with the distasteful experiences you suffered at the hands of that dog, O’Bannon, and I find no reason to hold you liable for his actions. I am an earl with all the privileges that title affords me. I can marry whom I please, and by doing so erase your unfortunate past. You will never want for anything,” the nattily dressed man stated calmly, his blue-gray eyes smiling at her from his pink face.

  He was blond and fair, the total opposite of Jack, and he looked less like a sailor than anyone Katherine had ever seen. But she had heard about his stellar record with the Royal Navy. He was a decorated hero, even more so since he had destroyed the Lady Elizabeth and most of her crew.

  After that horrendous day, her stepfather had informed her that Anthony had taken the survivors back to England to stand trial and that a few of Jack’s men had escaped. No one had any idea where they’d gone, and though she could speculate, that episode of her life was truly over. She knew that her stepfather thought she should be glad for it, but Katherine simply couldn’t forget the ecstatic awakening she had experienced in Jack’s arms. Was she never to feel that again?

  Shocked by this sudden proposal, and by the fact that it was coming from the man who had more or less killed the love of her life, Katherine blinked mutely at the captain cum earl.

  Apparently he thought her silence meant she was willing to listen, because Anthony continued. “I have a lovely country home in Bedfordshire where we can live, or there’s Houghton House in London, which your stepfather has so graciously offered us.”

  Katherine rallied a bit and managed to ask, “What will you do now that you’re no longer in the navy?” Knowing he must love the sea, she hoped he planned to take long voyages without her. Her face fell when she heard his reply.

  “I plan to become a gentleman farmer. Perhaps I’ll raise horses, as it is a pastime which pleases me. It would also please me greatly if you would consent to be my bride,” he added, smiling at her.

  “Katherine, he is willing to overlook your…uh…unfortunate circumstance,” the judge almost whined.

  They all knew to what he was referring—she was no longer a virgin. Why must that be so damned important to everyone? Huffing out her frustration, Katherine scooted back her chair and made to stand up again, determined to announce her intention to remain unmarried, until doomsday if necessary. Let the gossips talk about how she’d been ruined beyond reparation. She didn’t care what others thought of her.

  Before she could rise to her feet, her stepfather put a firm hand on her shoulder and pushed her back down in her chair, scowling at her.

  “I don’t think you could do any better, miss, and I have no intention of allowing you to wither here on the vine, letting the gossip continue to cause me even further embarrassment. Now, my dear, leave us, so that his grace and I may discuss the terms of your marriage contract.”

  Feeling trapped in a nightmare, Katherine almost ran all the way to her room.

  Chapter 13

  Six weeks later Katherine and her new husband were on their way to London aboard a cargo ship loaded with tea, coffee, cinnamon, and other spices. Their wedding had been a rushed affair held at Houghton Manor in Colombo, Ceylon, attended by her stepfather’s business associates, his banker, legal representatives, and their wives and children. No one had dared to snub the judge, so though the attendance was one-sided, there had been about one hundred guests. Captain Spencer, whose family resided in or near London and could not come out on such short notice, still seemed happy that the wedding had taken place in Ceylon. And though Katherine thought his attitude a bit odd, she didn’t question him about it. If Anthony didn’t mind that his family was not in attendance, it was fine with her; she didn’t have to pretend to feel joy she didn’t feel.

  She’d had misgivings concerning their wedding night, at which time she was certain Anthony would expect to receive his just reward for marrying a woman who had fallen from grace, such as herself. Katherine had been right about his intention to mark her as his own, but he hadn’t figured on her ability to feign illness. She complained of stomach distress and nausea and even managed to throw up a few times. And thus she was the only one who lay in their wedding bed that night and for the three days immediately following the ceremony. On the fourth day they set sail for England.

  Katherine was relieved to be on the ship where she could continue her act. Little did he know that rough seas didn’t make her sick; they only made her job easier. If she could just reach England without having to endure the touch of a man she detested, then maybe she could rid herself of this husband she’d never wanted in the first place.

  “I swear the captain is going out of his way to locate every swell,” she moaned one afternoon, her left arm thrown across her brow as she lay stretched out on the only bed in their cabin.

  Anthony, who had been mopping her brow with a cool, damp cloth, suddenly threw it down with disgust into the ceramic bowl on the washstand, and glared down at her. “If I thought you were going to be sick every day after I married you, I never would have asked for your hand,” he spat angrily.

  “I am sorry, Anthony, but I can’t help it if I feel sick,” she whined as the bed tipped to and fro. “Maybe a cup of tea and some dry bread would make me feel better,” she suggested, looking up at him from beneath half-lowered lids. The ship was rolling back and forth, back and forth, and he had to hold on to the rafters in the ceiling in order to remain on his feet.

  “Very well. I’ll see what I can do,” he said, and then he zigzagged out of the cabin.

  Katherine immediately got up and rushed to use the chamber pot. It would never do to allow Anthony to see her getting around on her own. For her act to work, he needed to think she was totally incapacitated. Thus, she was back in her bed before he returned, the covers pulled up to her chin.

  Once they reached England, she planned to get an annulment. That would be a fairly easy thing to do if the marriage had never been consummated. Surely Anthony wouldn’t protest, once he saw how determined she was to end the marriage. After all, he was an earl. Surely he could find someone else to marry. With her stepfather far away in Ceylon and unable to interfere, she had a chance. In England she could start again. Maybe she could get a job as a governess or a companion. She wouldn’t care what the job was, as long as she didn’t have to marry some man she didn’t love.

  Anthony hadn’t been gone long when the ship began to lean more to one side than the other, until Katherine could barely keep from rolling out of bed. Suddenly she heard a loud, groaning sort of screech as though the ship had run into something. She could hear shouting and much running about above her on the deck, and just then the cabin door opened and Anthony stuck his head inside. “What was that noise?” she asked him before he could speak.

  “The damned fool has run the ship aground on a reef. Stay here!” he ordered, and then he slammed the door shut. As soon as the door was closed, Katherine jumped up and ran to the small window.

  Looking out all she could see was dark gray clouds. Thinking it would be foolish to stay below if the ship was in danger of sinking, she decided to take matters into her own hands. So what if Anthony saw her? She would rather live, than die just to carry on with her charade.

  As she stepped into the passageway, Katherine was surprised to find water rolling down the stairs from above. Up those stairs was the only way out, and she was determined to climb them. The level of the water in the corridor had alre
ady risen to her knees; she had to get out of there. But first she must rid herself of some of her clothing, as it would only drag her down once it got wet.

  Back in the cabin she untied her slips and tossed them onto the bed. Then she pulled the back of her skirt up between her legs and tucked it over the sash at her waist. She had done this as a child in order to ride astride. Now it would facilitate her climbing the ladder.

  Water was spilling into the cabin now, but she was up on the top step in no time. But when she opened the door to the main deck, it was jerked out of her hand by the force of the wind and the waves crashing over the ship. Water was blown into her face, and she coughed and tried to wipe it out of her eyes. But her long hair had come unpinned, and now it flew around her head and into her face and eyes too. She held it back as best she could with one hand as she tried to take a step forward, but a huge wave pushed her sideways, sending her careening toward the starboard railing. She crashed into it and tumbled over headfirst.

  The next thing she felt was her breath being knocked out of her, as she landed in the water on her back. She inhaled a great breath of air, coughed and flailed her arms, trying to remain on the surface, but the waves were huge, and she was easily overcome by them. And what was worse was they were pulling her toward the ship! At first Katherine tried to hold her breath, but then she realized she was going to die if she allowed the ship to pull her down with it. With her last breath she threw her arms out and began swimming away from the ship.

  She hadn’t gone very far when something hit her in the back of the head. Suddenly her vision went from the dark gray of the storm to the black of unconsciousness.

  Chapter 14

  Jack could breathe easier now that his debts were paid and he had a ship under him again. The Lady Elizabeth had been lost, sunk by the Royal Navy, and though this frigate wasn’t nearly as grand, at least it belonged to him…more or less.

  He had decided that if the crown thought of him as a pirate, he might as well behave like one. So as soon as he was fit for a lengthy voyage, he and his men had set sail on a small cargo ship he already owned from his transporting days. They had positioned themselves in the path of their prey and played dead in the water. And when the captain of the Celeste had stopped to offer assistance, Jack and his men had fallen on the unsuspecting crew of the larger ship. They took her easily, for the opposing crewmen were mere sailors, not fighting men. And now the Celeste was called the Katherine, and not one of Jack’s men had dared to ask why he had chosen the name. They’d set sail that very day to retrieve the gold he’d left behind, on the island where he’d lost his heart to the only woman he would ever love.

  Now, two weeks later, the Katherine was safely moored on the leeward side of the rugged island in a small cove, safe from a storm that had hammered the island chain during the night. They had been there since the previous afternoon, about twelve hours, when the lookout posted in the crow’s nest spotted what appeared to be wreckage floating ashore, about a quarter mile east of their location. The debris, which had washed up on the pristine, white beach, had not been there at sunset the day before. Jack, who had become tired of being cooped up on the ship with nothing to do but wait out the storm, was eager to go ashore and stretch his legs, so he decided to lead a group of his men down the beach to investigate.

  The wind was still gusting, but at least it was no longer raining. There were a few crates washed up on the sand, and here and there lay pieces of a mast, ripped portions of canvas sails, and other debris. It was a ghastly reminder of just how much damage a storm could do, and how lucky they had been to have taken shelter when they did.

  “The ship must ’ave run aground last night in the storm,” old Jim remarked, as he tried to lift one corner of what appeared to be a cabin door. But the solid old oak panel was too heavy for him to budge on his own.

  A piece of blue cloth stuck out from under one end, and the old man gasped, imagining the worst. “Here! Help me lift this,” he cried, and Jack and two other men came and lifted the door away. “Saints preserve us!” the old salt cried when they saw what lay under the door.

  *

  Back in the other direction, a man climbed out of the sea, slowly and painfully inching his way up the anchor chain of the Katherine.

  * * * *

  “I don’t know if she’ll make it, lad, but she’s as comfortable as I can make ’er,” a male voice declared sadly.

  His voice seemed to come from the bottom of a very deep well, and she had to try hard to hear him, to understand him. Somehow she knew that the voice was referring to her, and she forced her eyes open and tried to speak. But her voice was barely a whisper as her breath escaped from her sore throat. He turned to leave, and she panicked. No! She didn’t want him to leave. She had a million questions she needed to ask him, but it felt like she’d been eating sand. That distasteful thought caused her to recall the storm and the ship, and how she had been washed overboard. The last thing she recalled was getting hit in the head. The storm had been fierce, but somehow she had survived. But where was she now? Unless she was mistaken, this was not the same ship on which she and Anthony had set out for England. That thought reminded her of something else…where was Anthony?

  “Pardon me, Sir, but where is my husband?” she asked in her scratchy whisper. This time he must have understood her, for he turned and looked back at her.

  “Sorry,” he said, shaking his grizzled head meaningfully.

  He looked familiar, but Katherine couldn’t place him. She supposed it didn’t matter whether or not she knew him. What mattered was that she was alive…and safe as far as she could tell.

  “She’s comin’ around, Captain,” the old man said as he stepped aside. He managed to remain in one place, while the ship tipped back and forth.

  Another, much taller man stood braced in the doorway, his dark head bent down to one side, allowing him to see into the cabin. Katherine lifted herself on one elbow in order to get a better look at him. She wanted to thank him for rescuing her.

  He stooped a bit and entered the cabin, stopping just a few feet from the bed on which she lay. Her head began to spin again, and time seemed to stop. My God, it could not be. The second man was tall and lean and robust looking, and he was as familiar to her as her own reflection in a mirror.

  Her heart was racing in her chest, and for a minute Katherine thought she might faint. She had taken a knock on the head. That was it. She must be suffering from a head injury. She blinked and widened her eyes, hoping to clear away the ghostly image she was seeing. It simply could not be! Jack O’Bannon was dead; she’d seen his lifeless body on the burning ship, his life’s blood a crimson pool all around him. Her head must be seriously injured for her to be seeing things that were not there. He seemed so real.

  “Good, you’re awake,” the vision said with seeming approval, as it stepped closer to her.

  Her heart almost stopped, and she fell back to the bed.

  The older man laid a damp cloth on her forehead, clucking like a mother hen. “Twill be all right, missy, yu’ll see,” he soothed.

  The ghost, or whatever it was, indicated with a tip of his head that the old man should leave. Without another word, he shuffled out of the cabin.

  Katherine closed her eyes for just a moment, hoping beyond hope that her vision would clear. But when she opened her eyes, the specter in black leather britches and white, billowy linen shirt was still standing over her.

  It took a minute for her to recover her poise, and when she did, her voice was louder, if not steady. “Am…am I awake, or is this…a dream?” she asked, feeling at once overjoyed and betrayed. If Jack was alive, why hadn’t he sent word, come for her, done something to let her know?

  Suddenly the specter spoke. “I’m sorry if I shocked you. I assure you I’m not a spirit or figment of your imagination. I’m very much alive.”

  “What of my husband?” Could Anthony really be gone?

  “I regret to inform you that it appears everyone else o
n the cargo ship has perished,” he told her in a brisk, emotionless tone of voice. “My men searched the entire shoreline, but they found no one else…nothing to tell of the ship’s violent end. You are very lucky to be alive.” He bowed from the waist as he backed toward the door. “Now, Madam, I’ll leave you to rest…and mourn your husband,” he finished with a noticeable growl.

  “Wait! Wait, please! We need to talk. My marriage…it was not what you think. My stepfather arranged it; I had no choice.”

  “Your life is no business of mine. It never was.”

  He turned to exit the cabin, and Katherine sprang up and threw her legs over the side of the narrow bed. He wasn’t going to get away from her before she got an explanation from him. So he was angry that she’d gotten married, so what? He had let her believe he was dead, and that was much worse. She was barefooted and dressed in only a thin cotton nightdress. It wasn’t hers, but she couldn’t waste time wondering where it had come from or how she came to be wearing it. All that mattered was that she speak with Jack.

  Hearing her rise up behind him, Jack stopped, his hand on the door latch as he stared over his shoulder at her.

  “I never would have married him, if I had known you were alive, Jack,” she said plaintively.

  “What would you have done? Vowed your love to a pirate? Aligned yourself with a man who is wanted by the most powerful empire on Earth? I think not. Your reputation would have been ruined. We both know our relationship was doomed from the start.” He took another step as if to leave, and then turned back to her, a look of grim resolution on his handsome face. “As soon as the storm is over and I have what I’ve come for, you will be put ashore at the nearest British colony. Since I’m a wanted man, I’m sure you’ll understand if I don’t accompany you there myself. Don’t worry; one of my men will see to it that you arrive safely,” he told her, his eyes cold and emotionless. And then he stepped over the threshold and into the corridor, closing the cabin door behind him.