The Reckoning (Legacy of the King's Pirates)

by Marylu Tyndall

  Rowan's sister swung a pointed gaze to Morgan as if just now seeing her. More curiosity than anger tainted her expression.

  "Bloodmoon? William Bloodmoon?" Merrick's face twisted in disgust.

  "The same," Nick answered.

  "Please, you must help him!" Morgan urged. Her nerves were getting the best of her, causing the clouds to spin and her legs to wobble, but she had to speak up. Had to make these people see the seriousness of the situation.

  "Who are you?" Rowan's sister asked.

  Morgan blew out a sigh. "Nobody. Just a friend."

  "A friend of my brother? He has no women friends." She laughed then moved toward Morgan and touched her arm. "You don't look well, Miss Shaw."

  "William Bloodmoon. Are you sure?" the handsome man, who must be her husband, asked as he stomped to the railing and gripped it with force.

  "Aye."

  He shared a look of horror with his father.

  "Ye know him?" Nick asked.

  "Unfortunately."

  "I've had dealings with him as well." Merrick scrubbed a hand over his tight jaw.

  "What does Bloodmoon want with him?" the older lady asked.

  Nick released a sigh, heavy with shame. "He crossed him, slept wi' his wife, stole a treasure map. 'Tis a long story."

  Merrick frowned.

  "Oh, Rowan, will you never learn?" Releasing Morgan, Rowan's sister seemed to wither before their eyes. Her husband led her to sit on a nearby barrel.

  "What does it matter why?" Morgan's pulse raced out of control. "His life is at stake."

  Rowan's sister gazed up at Merrick. "I know he probably deserves what he's getting. But he's my brother."

  "Never fear, Juliana." The older man who was all leather and roughness finally smiled, and in that smile, Morgan saw more kindness than she thought possible from such a man. "Of course we will help him. He's family now. Besides, none of us are getting what we deserve."

  A tiny wavelet of relief eased through Morgan. Not enough to stop the sky from twirling, but it was a start. "We should leave right away. God knows what Bloodmoon is doing to him as we speak."

  "Aye, God does know, but we'll leave first thing in the morning." Merrick's tone carried such finality that no one dared question him.

  It was the older woman's turn to approach Morgan. "Dear, you don't look well. Come sit." Though touched by the lady's obvious concern, Morgan resisted her pull. "We can't wait until morning. We have to go now."

  "Jackson," Merrick called over his shoulder. "Escort Miss Shaw below. Put her in Macon's cabin."

  But Morgan didn't want to go below. She didn't know these people. She wanted to go back to Rowan's boat with Nick. Drat! What had she done?

  A black monstrosity emerged from behind Merrick--the biggest man Morgan had ever seen. Even bigger than the WBA heavyweight fighters Jason had watched on TV. Why, her thigh was as big as his arm! Three gold earrings shimmered from his right ear as he leaned over her, his bald head swirling in her vision.

  Her heart near to blasted through her chest. No! She couldn't breathe. A buzzing rang through her head.

  "She's a wee bit skittish," was the last thing she heard Nick say before the world grew fuzzy and dark.

  ♥♥♥

  Something cool touched Morgan's forehead and eased down her cheeks. A whispered prayer misted around her, and for a moment she thought she was home again, a little girl sick in bed while her mother kept watch over her. Good memories from a time before her father left and her mother had wigged out and all was right with the world.

  But the gentle sound of wood creaking and the slight sway of her bed jarred her senses back to the present--or the past. Crud. A person could get a headache trying to figure it all out. Wait, she did have a headache. A bad one.

  She peeled her heavy eyelids open to find the older pirate woman kneeling beside her, holding Morgan's hand and praying, while Rowan's sister sat on the other side, dabbing Morgan with a wet cloth. Such kindness among pirates. Maybe they were missionaries, after all. She scanned the room--another closet-size cabin--lit by a single candle on the table and a lantern hanging above.

  "There you are," the older woman said upon seeing Morgan awake. "We were worried about you."

  Worried about me? Morgan drew a deep breath and tried to sit. "I'm fine. It's just the heat and all these ridiculous tight clothes." And the fact that she needed her meds, and Rowan was being tortured as they spoke, and she'd traveled back through time. But she refrained from freaking them out by saying all those things.

  Both women stared at her oddly. She was getting used to that. The older woman helped her sit and handed her a mug of water.

  Morgan sipped it hesitantly, waiting for the bitter stale taste she'd grown accustomed to in the water aboard these old boats, but it was sweet and fresh and flavored. Her expression must have given away her surprise for the older lady said, "Ginger for your stomach, peppermint for your headache, and a bit of rum for your nerves."

  Morgan stared at her. "How could you possibly have known all ..."

  "I'm Charlisse," she said. Although, she was probably as old, if not older, than Morgan's mother, there was a youthfulness about her, a liveliness, and a beauty that would last through the ages. A few lines and sags marred an otherwise angelic face framed by golden curls streaked in silver. But it was her eyes that spoke of life. As blue and sparkling as the sea at noonday, they exuded a joy and peace Morgan could only dream of.

  "Nice to meet you," was all she could mumble in return. She gulped down more of the sweet water.

  "This is my daughter-in-law, Juliana."

  Morgan smiled at the other woman, who now circled the cot, wrung out the cloth in a basin on a table, and struggled to lower her pregnant body beside Morgan. She took Morgan's hand and placed the damp cloth against her wrist. "This will help with the heat."

  The door opened and another lady entered, another blond beauty, making Morgan feel rather drab in comparison to these three.

  "This is Gabrielle, my daughter." Charlisse gestured for the lady to join them. "Come meet Miss Shaw."

  "You poor dear." Gabrielle approached, her skirts brushing against the only table in the tiny cabin. "'Tis this horrid Caribbean heat. I don't know how people stand it. I do hope you're feeling better."

  The lady leaned over to study Morgan with the kindest smile she'd ever seen. Though taller and thinner, she was just as stunning as her mother, the same sweet face and mass of golden curls, but with dark eyes instead of blue.

  The deck rose over a wave, sending the lantern swaying above them.

  "Thank you. I'm feeling better now." Morgan was not used to being coddled. Whenever she'd been sick back home, her roommate Tiffany left her alone, and whatever guy she was seeing gave her a wide berth, not wanting to catch anything. "I'm sorry to be any trouble."

  "Trouble, Pshaw." Charlisse rose from her knees and lowered into one of the chairs. The pirate outfit she wore clung to a physique that was anything but old. "We all need help now and then."

  "Oh my, you're trembling," Juliana remarked, still holding Morgan's hand.

  Morgan snatched it back. "It's nothing. Just nerves."

  "It must have been frightening for you on board Captain Dutton's ship with all those pirates." Within Charlisse's tone was an empathy that made it seem she knew exactly how that felt.

  "Especially my brother," Juliana added with a laugh, causing the others to smile, but then she faced Morgan with alarm. "He didn't hurt you, did he?"

  Morgan huffed. "You mean did he lure me to his bed?"

  Silence enveloped the room, except for the creak of wood and thump of footsteps overhead. Gabrielle gasped. Juliana looked away, and Charlisse smiled. All three blushed. Drat. Morgan had forgotten they probably didn't discuss things so openly in this time.

  "He was actually very kind to me." She placed a hand over her aching side. "Well, except for locking me in the hold."

  "Mercy me!" Juliana took Morgan's hand again. "I'm so sorry."


  "He thought I was ... it's a long story."

  "However did you end up on his ship?" Gabrielle asked.

  Morgan swallowed and set her empty mug down, wondering what to tell them. "I was a stowaway. It was an accident really. I ... I was looking for a place to hide ... and fell asleep ... And the next thing I knew, we were at sea." Good. She hadn't lied.

  Julianna dabbed Morgan's wrist again with the cool cloth. "What folly possessed you to board a pirate ship in the first place?"

  "I didn't know it was a pirate ship." Actually she didn't. Not a real one, anyway.

  There came that odd look again from all three women as if they couldn't imagine anyone stupid enough to not recognize a pirate ship.

  "Horrifying." Gabrielle fidgeted with her hands in her lap.

  Morgan looked up to find Charlisse's steady gaze fixed upon her as if she were poking and prying beneath the surface of Morgan's skin, seeking her secrets. Shifting beneath her knowing eyes, Morgan glanced down at the floorboards.

  "Well, 'tis a good thing you are here with us now," Gabrielle declared, raising her chin in the air. "God be praised for bringing you to us safe. A pirate ship is no place for a lady. "

  Charlisse glanced at her daughter and smiled. "You forget, daughter, 'twas on a pirate ship where I fell in love with your father."

  Gabrielle waved the thought aside. "That's different, Mother."

  "How is my brother?" Julianna took the cloth and rose.

  "Well, strong. A good captain." Morgan surprised herself at the void she felt inside just talking about him. "His men respect him."

  Sadness lingered in Juliana's smile. "I wish ... I pray he would quit this ludicrous freebooting and come home. I miss him."

  "He mentioned to me that he needs to pay you back for something." Morgan drew a deep breath, feeling her nerves already loosen. Was it the rum or the company of these ladies?

  "For what?"

  Morgan shrugged. "He says he won't come home until he has enough money to pay off his debt and settle you both in luxury."

  "Daft man!" Juliana tossed the cloth in the basin, splashing water over the edge.

  Charlisse rose and wrapped an arm around her. "Never fear. He will come to his senses soon."

  A bell clanged above, echoing through the ship, and drawing the gazes of the women.

  "Time to prepare for supper, girls." Charlisse smiled at Morgan. "We have guests tonight."

  And with that, both Juliana and Gabrielle made their exit, telling Morgan they'd see her soon.

  Her nerves returned. "Where is Nick?" she asked Charlisse.

  "You'll see him at dinner." Charlisse opened the doors to a tall cabinet, revealing additional clothing and underthings.

  "Here's a fresh gown, and there's some water and clean cloths." She gestured to the basin where Juliana had tossed the rag. Two small towels lay beside it, along with a hair brush, hand mirror and some pins. "I'll leave you to your toilet and will return to escort you to dinner in an hour."

  Toilet? Morgan didn't want to tell the lady she hadn't seen a real toilet in thirteen days, but she was sure she meant something else entirely. "Thank you, but I'm not very hungry."

  "Of course you are. You're as thin as a ship's mouse."

  Morgan frowned and attempted to rise. "Please, we need to go find Rowan. I'm worried for him."

  "We will. Have faith." That faith seemed to beam from the lady's eyes as she left, closing the door behind her.

  Faith? Morgan couldn't remember the last time she'd had faith in much of anything.

  ♥♥♥

  Morgan had been on these old boats long enough to not expect much in the way of dinner. But when she entered the captain's cabin, the sight that met her eyes not only surprised her but caused her mouth to water--something that hadn't happened in quite some time.

  A long table took up the center of the room, covered in white linen that shimmered in the light of several candles in silver holders placed down the middle. Around them, platters of food gave off steamy scents of roasted meat, buttery rice, fresh biscuits, and corn. And she suddenly wished she had more of an appetite.

  Gabrielle and Juliana were already seated beside Juliana's handsome husband, Alex, while Captain Merrick sat at the head of the table. Also in attendance, another man with short brown hair and thick sideburns whom Morgan had not met. Thankfully Nick was also there, offering her a warm smile. All the men stood when she and Charlisse entered, making Morgan feel even more like a lady than she did in all the layers of frilly skirts she wore.

  Even Charlisse had taken off her pirate garb and put on a lovely emerald gown with embroidered lace at the hem and neckline.

  Merrick's face lit at the sight of his wife, and he went to escort her, then pulled out her chair as if she were made of precious china. Morgan blinked at the sight. How long had they been married?

  Behind him, stern windows like the ones on Rowan's boat, revealed Kingston harbor dappled in moonlight.

  "May I introduce Jonas Nash, Miss Shaw." Alex gestured toward the man she didn't know. "My quartermaster and ship's surgeon."

  Jonas dipped his head. "A pleasure, Miss."

  Morgan smiled and sat beside Nick.

  "Normally Jackson would join us, but we didn't want you fainting on us again, Miss Shaw." Merrick chuckled and took his seat.

  Crud. The huge black guy. "I'm sorry, Captain. It wasn't him. I was feeling faint before I even saw him." Though the sight of such an enormous man hadn't helped.

  "Don't let them bother you, Miss Shaw." Juliana smiled, her golden curls glittering about her neck in the candlelight. "I must admit he frightened me at first as well. But he's truly a kitten beneath all that armor."

  At her mention of kittens, Morgan wondered how Blackbeard was faring, but no doubt Edith was taking good care of him.

  "Let us pray," Merrick said, and everyone bowed their heads. All except Morgan. She wanted to see for herself whether it was possible these pirates were pious. But everyone did actually bow and close their eyes, and the prayer Merrick uttered was short, sincere, and heartfelt. Afterward, everyone said "Amen" exuberantly before they started passing the platters of food.

  Though it smelled delicious, Morgan took very little. Her nausea had returned, along with the pain in her side. A constant reminder that her time on earth was coming to an end--a painful, drastic end. Still, if she wasn't able to get back to her time for treatment, she might as well do one good deed before she died--save Rowan Dutton. Despite the fact he was a pirate, he'd been kind to her, saved her, and watched out for her, even when he got nothing in return. Which was more than she could say for the men she'd dated back home.

  Nervousness stirred her already agitated stomach. She must bring up the topic of leaving soon to save him. But she was a guest and didn't want to seem rude or ungrateful. Besides, the glass-doored cabinet against the far wall was filled with swords, guns, and other murderous weapons--not to mention the cannon perched at the foot of the bed--all reminders that she was dealing with pirates. Real pirates. Missionaries or not.

  Nick spooned a heaping pile of meat onto his plate and passed it to her. "We havena been back to Port Royal since soon after the quake. It appears they are attempting t' rebuild the city."

  "Aye, but the size of the land has been so drastically reduced"--Alex poured Juliana a glass of wine, his voice filled with sorrow--"'tis unlikely it will ever be the city it once was."

  "Sad in a way," Nick returned, "though 'twas a vile den of the worst sorts, no?"

  Merrick lifted a fork of roast pig to his mouth and nodded, but Morgan sensed a sorrow about him. "I met God in that city," he said after he swallowed. "'Twas there that Reverend Buchan found me bleeding and drunk in his church." He smiled at his wife. "And 'twas there this pretty young thing walked into the Drunken Skunk all by herself and demanded Edward the Terror--the most vicious pirate on the Caribbean--release me!"

  Charlisse laughed and shared a knowing smile with Juliana. "What a lady won'
t do for her man."

  Alex snorted and glanced lovingly at his wife. "Lud! For a man? This lady dared to venture unescorted into the most depraved places merely on some minor errand of mercy."

  "But if I had not, I would have never met you, for there you were among the most nefarious of cullions," she retorted, grabbing a biscuit off a passing plate.

  "Surely, you mean if not for me saving you, Sweetums, we wouldn't have met."

  "I protest, milord Pirate, I was doing quite well on my own. Almost out the door unscathed I might add."

  "Unscathed, bah!" Alex gazed at his wife, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

  Gabrielle threw a hand to her chest and sighed. "I still thrill at hearing how God saved you both. Got you out of the city and onto the Ransom before the quake hit."

  "Yes, and the orphans and Isaac and Eunice, too," Juliana said.

  "You forget Jonas, my good friend." Alex glanced at the brown-haired man, but Jonas' eyes were on Gabrielle. The lady noticed and returned his smile before she shyly looked away.

  "I could never forget Jonas," Juliana said with a fond glance toward the man. "He's the only one who kept dragging you back from debauchery to the straight and narrow."

  "And a difficult task it was, if I do say so!" Jonas lifted his glass in the air, and Alex saluted him with his.

  The boat teetered over a wave, shifting a bowl of guavas and rocking the wine in Morgan's glass. She nibbled her biscuit, hoping it would stay down, but finding the discussion among these pirate-missionaries more than fascinating.

  Charlisse glanced fondly at her son. "Reverend Buchan is surely smiling down at you from heaven, seeing how you saved his precious orphans."

  Juliana swallowed her mouthful and looked up at Merrick. "Thank you, Me--Father, for helping us relocate them to Barbados. And setting up Eunice and Isaac in a home where they can care for them."

  "And sending them monies for support each month," Alex added.

  Merrick smiled. "As you did for years with the stipend I sent you."

  Alex shook his head. "'Twas the only decent thing I did while in Port Royal."

  "You did make quite a name for yourself, son," Charlisse said with a teasing glance. "Just not the name your father and I had hoped you would."