by Regan Walker
The pirate stared into his wine. “We will return to the Wind Raven, but not today, I think. No, tomorrow would be better. Let the good captain believe you have spent another night in my arms. And tomorrow you will show your affection for me. You will smile when I speak of our being revolutionaries. You will be convincing, no? And they will believe you have chosen to remain with El Pirata Cofresí.”
Once again, Cofresí acted the gentleman. He had given orders to have the crew of the Wind Raven taken back to the hold, and then he gave her time alone to change her clothes before joining him for dinner. They dined as they had before, only this time Tara ate, for the knowledge that the Wind Raven’s captain and crew would be freed buoyed her spirits immensely. She did not doubt the word of the pirate captain. For some reason, she believed he could be trusted once he had given his word. And she had been careful to extract his promise to do all he had said. Tomorrow he would release Nicholas Powell and his men. Tara did not think overmuch about what would happen beyond that. It seemed both captains wanted her, though neither spoke of love. She would endure what she must and one day she would find a way to be free and return to her family.
* * *
Nick was surprised when his men returned to the hold. So, it seemed, were they. Russ and Nate were the first ones to join him in the dimly lit space, his first mate no longer in chains. Seeing Russ was about to explain what had happened, Nate turned his attention to helping the wounded find a comfortable resting spot.
Nick could wait no longer. “What has happened?”
“I’m not certain,” confessed Russ. “You know that rigging for the new mast the bos’n wasn’t happy with? Well it seems more pressing work drew Jake’s attention elsewhere and he was not able to see to it. It was fortuitous as Cofresí chose this morning to go aloft and take a look. He was reaching above the crosstrees to grab the foretopmast shrouds, but since they weren’t fully rigged, he lost his footing and was left dangling backwards over the deck. We would have been short one pirate captain had not our passenger intervened. Just like with Billy, she scrambled into the rigging and righted the pirate’s footing before he could fall to his much-deserved death. Nearly fell herself doing it, too.”
“She saved the pirate?” Nick asked, disbelieving.
“She did. While most of the pirate’s men stood around gaping at her breeches, she scaled the rigging. ’Twas a sight to see, I must say. There were many open mouths in our own crew as well.”
“Why would she save the pirate?” Nick asked, frowning. Why indeed?
“No one knows. But you know her propensity for saving seamen from death. Still, it looked as if she and the pirate were on very good terms when they came back to the ship together this morning.”
“She spent the night with the pirate aboard his ship?”
Seeing his expression, Russ looked apologetic. “Sorry, Nick, it appears she did.”
* * *
The next morning, Nick and his men were brought up on deck and Nick’s chains were promptly removed. He and his crew were then gathered together on the quarterdeck as Cofresí stood with Tara at his side amidships looking back at them. The pirate crew watched from the railing and some from the shrouds as their captain addressed Nick and his men.
“Tara McConnell, an American revolutionary sympathetic to the cause of a free Porto Rico, has decided to stay with me. We have found pleasure together.”
There were gasps from Nick’s crew and loudly voiced objections by some, but the pirate crew uttered not a word.
“Because Tara has decided to stay with me, I, Cofresí, will be generous to the Raven and his crew. You may take your ship and leave my waters. It would be wise not to return.” Then putting his arm possessively around Tara’s waist, he pulled her close.
Nick was seething at the pirate’s words and his hands on Tara McConnell, but he forced himself to look carefully at the faces of the pirates. They were unsurprised. Obviously they had been told this would happen. Before Nick could respond, Cofresí kissed her, to the cheers of his crew. At first Tara remained still, though compliant. Then she lifted her hands to the pirate’s shoulders, pulled him close and ardently returned his kiss.
Nick felt a slow burn forming deep inside. So, the American girl had given to the pirate what Nick had resisted taking for himself. As he’d feared, she had spent the last two nights in the pirate’s bed. No ordinary pirate, he reminded himself, but a pirate all the same. Rage consumed him at being betrayed once again by a woman. Battling to overcome his anger, he told himself Tara was just another Caroline but of a different kind. One left him for a title; the other left him for love. Love of a pirate, for Christ’s sake. An educated, smooth-talking pirate. Fool. Tara had never been his. They’d not become lovers. Why that should grieve him, he did not question.
He’d known Tara McConnell had no love for the English. Just like the pirate. So what if she chose the pirate’s cause? Let him have her.
Nick moved to the front of his men. “I thank you for my life and for our freedom, Captain Cofresí,” Nick said, graciously bowing before the pirate with a sarcastic smile. He would not let Cofresí or Tara see his dismay. “And I wish you and Miss McConnell well. I understand you have already had her chest brought aboard your ship, so my crew and I will say our good-byes and bid you smooth sailing.” There were murmured objections from those of his crew who had grown fond of the American girl. He ignored them. They were too protective of the hoyden. “Be still!” he commanded in a whisper sent over his shoulder. “The girl has chosen her fate. I will not intervene.”
Nick watched as the pirate’s men slowly filed over the plank back to their ship, a silent and brooding group. They might support their captain but they did not like losing their prize. Of course, they had the cargo of the Wind Raven to assuage their loss, though if his hiding place were still secure, the pirates had not found the gold Nick always carried.
After the pirate crew departed, Nick watched Cofresí take Tara’s hand and lead her across the plank to his ship. She looked back only once and then only to the somber group of the Wind Raven’s crew, where her gaze lingered for a moment.
With dispatch, the grappling hooks were removed and the sails of the Retribución unfurled to slowly catch the wind. Soon they were sailing away from the Wind Raven still anchored in the bay. Nick watched from the starboard rail as the tall blond pirate stood proudly on the deck of his ship, his arm around Tara’s shoulders, a tether to her future. The gaze of the two golden-haired beings was fixed on Nick as they sailed away.
Chapter 15
Tara never took her eyes off the Wind Raven or her captain as the pirate’s ship carried her from them. Tears flowed down her cheeks as she silently said good-bye to the man she loved, the one to whom she had given her heart.
“Come, cariño,” said Cofresí. “Our new life begins.” Tara looked away from the dwindling sails of the other ship. Had she a spyglass she might have stared longer into the horizon, hoping for a last glimpse of the schooner she’d called home for so long. She never had a chance to say good-bye to the first mate or the gunner or McGinnes or Nate or Peter or Jake. Intentionally, she had not said good-bye to their captain. It was for the best. She would not have been able to keep up the pretense with him. He would have seen the tears in her eyes and known she loved him. Known it was all a lie.
“What do you intend to do with me now?” she asked.
“Why, I plan to introduce you to my family as the woman I intend to court.”
“I do not encourage your suit, nor would I want to mislead your family.”
“I am a patient man, cariño. And I do not think it proper for you to linger aboard my ship. I will see you safely to my home in Cabo Rojo and clothed in a manner that befits a Cofresí. Do not tell my sister of your past tendency to wear men’s clothing. She is a good Catholic and would not approve. Juana will take you to church and act the part of the chaperone until we are wed.”
“I will be a prisoner, you mean.”
&nbs
p; “A protected woman, cariño. You will not need to sail again. My family’s home is one of the finest in Cabo Rojo. It will be there that we will raise our family.”
Tara felt the walls closing around her. From the stifling London ballrooms to the elegant prison of the pirate’s home, she had traveled far. But she was determined to travel still farther, to escape and return to her family.
* * *
“I’ve known ye for a heartbroken lad when Caroline left ye for the earl, and I’ve known ye as a rogue and a privateer—more pirate at times than even yer namesake—but I’ve never known ye for a fool,” scolded Nate.
Nick and the old seaman stood at the helm, Nate’s sure hands on the wheel, as the Wind Raven sailed from Boquerón Bay, heading for the open sea.
Nick had heard the old seaman’s counsel before, and though he would prefer not to listen to his chiding now, Nate’s standing as an old friend of the Powell family dictated he give the man the respect he was due.
“I suppose I’m partly to blame,” Nate said, shaking his head. “All those years ago, I watched it happen and said nothin’. Many a time I wanted to talk to ye, but I thought ye’d not be wantin’ to hear what I had to say. ’Tis to my shame I kept quiet.”
“What are you talking about?” said Nick, full of anger at Tara and anger at himself for caring about her still.
“When that woman hurt ye, ye buried the wound deep and never grieved. Swept it away like dirt ’neath a rug. Then to make sure ye’d never hurt like that again, ye made your heart unbreakable, cold and distant.” At Nick’s raised brow, he added, “Oh, yer a man loved by women, to be sure—many women ’tis said—but in truth ye love only your ship, yer family and yer crew. Ye must change that, Nick. Ye must risk yer heart again. Give it to her.” Nate looked in the direction of the pirate ship growing ever smaller in the distance.
“She is gone, Nate. Chose the pirate. You saw it yourself. My God, she spent two nights in his bed!”
“I’ve been wonderin’ about that.”
“Russ said she saved him—”
“I saw it meself. But ye know as well as I do that lass would save any man, as she once saved Billy and would have saved him again, though she nearly died tryin’.”
“She was kissing the pirate, Nate.”
“Listen to yer heart, son. I’d swear me eyes saw the lass playin’ the greatest role of her life. When she looked back at us as she left the ship, her heart was in her eyes.”
Stepping to the rail and gripping the brightwork to anchor himself, Nick stared into the horizon, watching Cofresí’s sails now a mere dot in the distance. Likely the pirate was headed for some cove in Cabo Rojo to be alone with his prize. A deep ache settled into Nick’s chest. Losing Tara felt like dying, like he couldn’t get enough breath into his lungs.
Was Nate right? Had Tara been pretending? Viewed in that light, many things suddenly became clear. Why she wouldn’t look at him, why she had not said good-bye, why she had hesitated before kissing the pirate. He wanted to believe Nate’s words, oh so badly. Nate had no need to urge him to give her his heart. She’d claimed it one night on the deck of his ship when the dying sun bathed her in golden light.
“Ye’ve always been like yer father, Nick, and never more so than with this woman.”
Nick whirled around at the words of his old friend. “What do you mean?”
“He’s a one-woman man and so are ye. But until now, ye’d not met that woman. Well, now ye have. If ye let Tara McConnell go, I promise ye’ll feel the loss for as long as ye live.”
Nate gestured for Nick to take the wheel as the older seaman lit his pipe, a small smile deepening the many wrinkles on his timeworn face. A few strands of his gray hair blew across his forehead, carried by the wind coming off starboard. “She reminds me of yer mother, that one does. The wild Claire Donet,” he said wistfully.
“My mother is a lady. Tara’s the wild one, a hoyden who wears breeches.”
“Ah, yer mother is a lady now, but ye’ll recall I knew her when she was the pirate Jean Donet’s daughter. A bit o’ the banshee she was then, though she was convent-raised. She nearly broke up yer father’s cabin throwing things at him when he abducted her and refused to let her go. Don’t forget, lad, I may have gray hair now, but I was once yer father’s cabin boy. I was there when he stole her from the convent where Donet had her stashed in France. Ye’d be wise to take a lesson from yer father and do the same.”
“Why should I risk the Raven for Tara McConnell? She’s made her choice.”
“Well, for one thing, ye love her. ’Tis plain as the nose on yer face. And for another, if my instincts are right, she went with Cofresí but she was not happy about it. There was deep regret in those sad eyes as the lass took her leave. I’ve been thinkin’ about it and I believe she went with the pirate only to free you—and yer crew.”
Nate’s words sank in. Only to free you. Had she had done it for him? Like a forbidding black cloud, Nick sensed the wrong that had been done hovering in the background and the desperate need to right it. He had been freed with no explanation save the pirate’s whim. What if it hadn’t been a whim? What if it had been…a bargain—her willing compliance for his freedom and that of his crew? If Tara hadn’t wanted to leave, if she didn’t want the pirate, Cofresí would take her against her will. The thought of the pirate’s hands on her made the anger rise within him like gale-force wind.
“How did my father do it, Nate?” he asked in a slow, deliberate voice.
“Ah, now that’d be a story.”
Over the next few minutes, Nate told him the story of all that had happened the night of the daring raid leading to the capture of the wild Claire Donet.
* * *
Tara felt like a bird in a gilded cage. She had been in Cabo Rojo for a week, and the few words of Spanish she had picked up barely allowed her to manage halting conversations with Cofresí’s sister, Juana, much less the fast-flowing conversations in the marketplace when Juana took her shopping. Thankfully, Juana spoke English. Like her brothers, she had been educated in several languages.
Juana reminded Tara of the pirate, with her golden hair, only a shade darker than her brother’s, rendering her an attractive woman. She had welcomed Tara into their home, an elaborate two-story structure built around a central courtyard containing a lush garden. It was pleasant to sit in the shade of the trees on hot afternoons, and Tara had often gone there to think, to plan and to dream.
Though his brothers looked askance when Cofresí told them he met Tara on an English merchant ship, Juana had questioned little, seemingly delighted to have Tara living with her in their family home, no matter she was neither European nor Catholic. Tara had the impression Juana approved of her, and that made their time together pleasant. Cofresí’s sister seemed starved for the company of another woman. Her brothers, especially the pirate captain, were very protective of their sister, and except for her regular visits to the marketplace, Juana did not often leave her home.
Juana had confided to Tara that Roberto was her favorite of the brothers, and she expressed a desire to see the two of them wed. Tara did not encourage the idea, but she suspected the pirate had told Juana of his intentions. Tara’s heart belonged to an English sea captain, though there had never been any words of love between them. She missed him terribly. Where was he now? Likely on his way north. Tara thought only of escape and of going home to her family in Baltimore. Still, reality did not stop her from dreaming. And when she sat in the garden and dreamed, it was of Nicholas Powell.
“What are you making for tonight’s dinner, Juana?” asked Tara, smelling a wonderful spicy aroma as she entered the kitchen.
“Roberto’s favorite, since he is returning tonight.”
Tara had not seen the pirate captain for most of the week and, knowing he was to return, she wondered if he would still act the gentleman. Before he had left, the pirate had begun dictating orders as to how she was to dress and conduct herself, as if she were one of his crew, or
worse, one of his possessions.
“Oh? And what is it he likes?”
“Empanadillas.” At Tara’s blank look, Juana explained, “Small pies filled with lobster and crab and a sauce made with many spices. I serve them with rice and fruit and sometimes cut greens.”
“It sounds tasty. I’ve never had them. May I help?”
“Would you be willing to go to the marketplace for me? I have need of a few more tomatoes and some cilantrillo.”
Tara had purchased both with Juana once before and knew which stands sold them. She thought she could manage enough Spanish to secure the items.
“I’d enjoy the walk.” Juana never considered Tara would try to escape, and in truth, Tara had not figured out how she would accomplish her goal to be free. She had no money of her own, no transportation and, except for a few words, she did not speak the language. She had thought perhaps she might find a ship sailing to America that would grant her passage for the promise of payment in Baltimore. The idea presented many risks, and she’d not seen any American ships in port, but it was the only plan she had. Cofresí was too well known and too well liked for her to seek help from anyone in Cabo Rojo.
“I could send a servant, but I know you like to get out in the afternoons,” said the thoughtful Juana.
“You are right. I do.” Juana always provided the money for any shopping they did, telling Tara that Roberto gave her coins aplenty. Tara didn’t doubt it and wondered if he’d yet sold the cargo he’d seized from the Wind Raven. In the time he’d been gone from Cabo Rojo, she assumed he was arranging to dispose of his stolen merchandise or making one of his runs to capture a merchant ship. She shuddered to think what might be the fate of the crew. She had personally witnessed death at the hands of the pirate.
