The Buccaneer

by Donna Fletcher

  “Then who told the story?” Catherine asked, finding the story too preposterous to believe.

  “One of the other men that was captured with him. He got away at one of the ports and made his way back to England.”

  Catherine covered her mouth with her hand, thinking of all the times her tongue got carried away, rattling on about nonsensical things.

  “And the women, my lady,” Dulcie said, shaking her head and kissing he cross once again.

  Catherine’s skin crawled with gooseflesh. “The women?”

  “Oh, yes, mum, the women. Captain Lucifer is known for his fondness of them though it’s been heard it isn’t always fondness he treats them with.”

  If not fondness then what? Indifference? Savagery? Contempt? Catherine did not care for her musings. “And you’ve heard stories regarding this?”

  Dulcie nodded her head vigorously, her brow curls bobbing along her forehead from beneath her mobcap.

  “Tell me,” Catherine insisted, needing to learn all she could before her marriage.

  “My lady, excuse me for saying so, but you have no experience in such matters.”

  “Granted I’ve no firsthand knowledge, but I’m not ignorant of the basic act that goes on between a man and woman,” she said, wishing most fervently that she was knowledgeable beyond the basic act. She had no idea how a wife should act, react or feel, and the lack of information greatly disturbed her.

  “Lucifer enjoys more than the basic act, mum. According to tales, one captured lady failed to entertain him to his specifications, so he had her thrown overboard and he was heard to yell, ‘since you can’t please me, you’ll please the bloody sharks.’”

  Catherine didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Whether what Dulcie was telling her were truths, or tales. “I can only assume that Captain Lucifer’s exploits are overly exaggerated and that he would not think of treating his wife in such a barbaric manner.”

  Dulcie chewed on her lower lip, uncertain if she should speak, but unable to keep still. “Oh, my lady, forgive me for saying so, but how can you be certain he’ll marry you? And why does he wish to marry you? Him being a pirate. How would a marriage to you benefit him?”

  “We’ve both signed an agreement of marriage. And I can only assume he wishes to better his station in life. By marrying me perhaps he will attain some respectability. Why else would he send for me?” Catherine asked, not wanting to consider what other motives Lucifer could possibly have.

  “To ruin you, m'lady. You mustn’t go. I have a bad feeling.”

  “Hush now. Why would he wish to ruin me? What would that accomplish?”

  “It don’t matter, my lady, don’t you understand? He has no soul. He doesn’t care.” Dulcie’s tone rose in pitch to emphasize her point.

  “I don’t believe Captain Lucifer has no soul,” Catherine said, attempting to calm her servant though seriously doubting her own remark. “And I don’t want you to worry, when I am settled and all matters are taken care of, I’ll send for you. If you would prefer not to come, I’ll understand.” Although she prayed Dulcie would join her, suddenly feeling terribly alone.

  “Oh, my lady, I’ll come and I’ll help protect you, no matter how fearin’ I am.”

  Catherine hugged the young girl, relieved that she would eventually join her. “I shall miss you, Dulcie.”

  Dulcie wiped the tears from her eyes with the corner of her white apron. “I’ll pray for you, my lady, night and day.”

  “Good, then I won’t be afraid since I know your prayers will protect me,” she said, offering Dulcie and herself what little comfort she could muster.

  “God love you, my lady. You’re so innocent of the world.”

  Dulcie quickly left the room to conceal her flowing tears and to see to the removal of the trunks. Catherine remained sitting on the bed absorbed in her own thoughts and fears, her love for her father to cloud her wisdom?

  “M'lady, your father calls for you,” Dulcie said, peeking her head in the room.

  “I’ll be right there,” she said, and hurried to her dressing table to check her face. Her eyes were shiny with unshed tears and her cheeks pale. She pinched life back into them, then dabbed at the corners of her eyes to clear them.

  She sprinkled rose water on her neck and fluffed the white ruffles that ran along the square neck of her dark green wool gown.

  She hurried out of her room and down the hall.

  She was all ready to see her father… and say good-bye.

  o0o

  Courage is a strong and not always easy virtue to maintain. Her father had repeated that often to her these last few months. She called upon his words now as her hand reached out to grasp the metal latch. She took a deep breath, released it slowly, then opened the door and walked into her father’s room.

  A rush of heat from the blazing hearth flushed her face as she walked to his bed. “You look wonderful, Father.” She leaned over and kissed his cheek. He did look wonderful. Health bloomed once again in his face.

  “And I feel wonderful, Catherine. After speaking to Charles this morning and realizing that we are finally getting somewhere in proving my innocence— well, it has given me a renewed strength.”

  “Yes, things do look better,” she smiled in agreement.

  “I told Charles that we must go over the information we have. I want to see the papers he spoke of, the ones that show I wasn’t using my merchant ships to send supplies to enemy countries.”

  Catherine fussed with the heavy quilt covering him, folding its edges neatly back. “You must rest first. You may view the papers all in good time.”

  The marquis took his daughter’s hand in his.

  Catherine couldn’t help but notice how thin and frail he felt. He had been a tall, strapping man and although he still retained almost six-foot height, his weight had dwindled and it would be months before he regained his full stamina. His once dark hair was heavily streaked white and gray and his face, though still handsome, betrayed his fifty-nine years.

  He roughly cleared his throat as he had done so often when she was young and he was about to have a serious discussion with her. “Catherine, these last few months have been difficult for you. I am so sorry.”

  “Nonsense, father,” she said, trying not to look directly into his blue eyes, so close was she on the verge of tears.

  “It isn’t nonsense. You have worked hard helping Charles. He told me how determined you were to prove my innocence.”

  Catherine fussed further with the quilt, keeping her hands busy, so worried was she that her father would notice their nervous trembling. “Charles shouldn’t have disturbed you with that news.”

  “You can’t carry the weight of my burden on your shoulders. It isn’t right or proper,” he said, covering her hand.

  “When you are well I shall gladly give the burden back to you,” she said with a forced smile, cherishing his touch as she had as a child. It had always brought with it a feeling of comfort and safety. And she wondered when next she would feel it.

  “I am well enough now. The burden is mine. And I feel confident that this matter will be settled in a few months. By then I shall be feeling my old self, and we can head to London for a holiday, and to find you a husband. It is about time I tended to my fatherly duties.”

  Catherine choked back her emotions. He had always seen to her well-being. Always. Now it was her turn. “You have been the best father in the world to me.”

  Tears blurred the marquis’s vision. He wiped at his eyes and coughed. “Must be the smoke. I tell Dunwith not to use damp logs, but he never listens.”

  Catherine laughed, the first time in months. “You couldn’t do without Dunwith. He’s been your manservant as long as I can remember.”

  Her laugh was infectious and he chuckled along with her. “He’s been my manservant as long as I can remember.”

  Catherine was glad to see him smile again, to see him free of worry and concern for the future.

  The marquis squ
eezed Catherine’s hand tightly. “All will go well, you’ll see. And then I will arrange a most wonderful marriage for you.”

  She leaned over and kissed his cheek once again. She braced herself against the lie she was about to tell him. She had never lied to him before and it disturbed her to so now. “I will be away for a few days. Aunt Lilith is insisting I visit with her. It’s been so long since I’ve seen her.”

  “It will do you good to get away from here for a few days even if it’s only with my unconventional sister.” The marquis attempted to stifle a yawn, but wasn’t successful. “I am tired. You will visit with me later?”

  She gently placed a kiss on his forehead, knowing this was her farewell, for how long she could not say. “I will visit with you soon.”

  His eyes closed contentedly as Catherine walked to the door. She stopped a moment and without turning around she whispered. “I love you.” And then she walked out the door, closing it quietly behind her.

  She stood there a moment in silence, her head resting against the door, tears tickling her lashes. She wiped them away and turned.

  “Dunwith!” she said, her hand flying to her chest, surprised by his sudden appearance.

  “Lady Catherine,” he said.

  She looked up into his face. She knew he had to be well into his seventies, but his face was ageless. A few lines and wrinkled worn well. And a voice so articulate one would think him an aristocrat. “I was visiting with father.”

  “He is improving,” he said matter-of-factly.

  “Yes, very much so,” she said softly, her bottled emotions close to erupting.

  “He is strong as is his daughter,” Dunwith said, his face not betraying a hint of emotion.

  Catherine suddenly felt her throat constrict and her eyes flood with unshed tears. “You will take care of him? Of course you will. It was foolish of me even to ask such a thing.” She wiped at her eyes with her hand, and then bravely and most unseemingly flung her arms around Dunwith, hugging him. “I shall miss you. Tell father I love him.”

  She released him and ran down the hall without glancing back, else she would have seen the single teardrop fall from Dunwith’s eye and splatter upon his white shirt.

  o0o

  The trip had been more difficult than Catherine had thought. Not so much physically, for she was treated well and her comfort seen to at the various stops along the way. It was her emotions that had had caused the most problems. Now standing here on the dock, she looked up at the massive ship that would take her away and deliver her to a complete stranger, and she felt her confidence fade away completely.

  “Lady Catherine?”

  Catherine turned her attention to George, her father’s stable master for the last twenty years.

  “I talked with Captain Morley. He says your cabin is all ready and he’d like you to board as quickly as possible, being the tide is perfect for him to set sail.”

  “My trunks are on board?” she asked, feeling a bit fearful of being on her own.

  George nodded, twisting his worn cap in his hands. “Lady Catherine, are you certain you’ll be all right? You know a fine lady as yourself shouldn’t be traveling alone. It isn’t proper.”

  “I appreciate your concern, George, but circumstances warrant that I must.”

  “It isn’t safe on the open seas with pirates and such.”

  “I’m sure Captain Morley will provide safe passage for me, and I shall arrive at my destination without incident.”

  George nodded his head reluctantly as though he didn’t entirely agree with her. “If you say so. You won’t be gone long, will you? Your father will be missing you terribly.”

  The cold winter wind grew blustery at that moment, causing Catherine to wrap her wool-lined cloak more tightly around her. “And I’ll be missing him,” she answered, deciding it was best she didn’t comment on the unlikelihood of her return anytime soon.

  One of the sailors from the ship hurried toward them. “Excuse me, but the captain, he wants to be sailing now.”

  Catherine was glad for the interruption, since she was finding it difficult to say good-bye to George and the last remnants of her life in England.

  “Keep well, George,” she called as the young sailor took her arm and assisted her up the gangway.

  “Be careful and God bless,” George yelled.

  But the wind carried his blessing away and all Catherine heard was “be careful.”

  She was shown to her cabin. It was small but adequate. Her baggage had been stored in the ship’s storage and she had been left with her traveling case. It held enough clothing and essentials for the journey. Her destination was Jamaica, where she would be met by an emissary representing Captain Lucifer. Captain Morley knew naught of her true reason for her journey, only that he was to deliver her safely to Jamaica.

  The ship pitched and rolled considerably and Catherine quickly seated herself on the narrow bed, holding firmly to the wooden sides.

  They were sailing. The men had released the ropes, setting the ship free, and it was headed to the open sea away from England.

  Catherine let the tears come then. The ones that had remained locked away these many months. They burst forth and raced down her cheeks. She hugged her cloak around her and gave voice to her greatest fear. “Captain Lucifer must have a soul. He must.”

  Chapter Two

  It was a tiny speck floating in the distance. Catherine could barely make it out. Craning her neck and widening her eyes she focused on the natural beauty of the watery landscape surrounding her. An endless sea met a forever, deep blue sky, rich with thick white clouds. It resembled a perfect painting with the exception of the speck.

  The crew was obviously disturbed by it. Although she felt they were a safe distance away from the vessel, if that was what the speck was, the crew appeared to think otherwise. Their eyes strayed often to the horizon and their movements seemed strained and fearful. Odd, since these were experienced sailors accustomed to all the variables of the sea, and the two weeks they had been at sea, the crew had been congenial and relaxed. Yet now something was frightening them beyond reason. She herself could feel it. Its presence was tangible and as Catherine sniffed the salty air she could almost smell the sickening odor.

  Fear.

  She was too familiar with it. These last few months fear had been her constant companion, feeding off her day and night. But here on the ship it was no companion. It was their adversary. An adversary that was far stronger than any human opponent. But what or who caused it to spread and lurk with such intensity?

  Catherine walked toward the quarterdeck, steadying her step with each pitch and sway of the ship. Her eyes stole glances at the crew members, and her apprehension grew as she watched sailors cross themselves in protective prayer. The strange mumbling disturbed her even more for she could only hear snatches of their conversation and what she did hear heightened her own fears.

  “Pray it ain’t the Black Skull.”

  “Hell holds a better fate.”

  “Bloodthirsty lot.”

  “No soul.”

  Catherine turned in such haste she almost lost her balance. Had she heard Dulcie’s warning or had one of the crew voiced the same fear?

  Tension filled every muscle and fiber of her body like a band that had been strung too taut. She wrapped her cape snugly around her not to ward off the chill, but to keep her alarm at bay. She would go to her cabin and read. If she kept her mind busy and focused, this uneasiness would dissipate.

  She continued walking in unhurried steps. She didn’t wish to show that her misgivings equaled the crew’s. It was better to keep her emotions in check. After all, her worries might be for naught and she didn’t wish to appear a fool.

  Catherine smiled congenially at the sailors busy in their duties as she passed them. Their returned smiles were pleasant though forced and the odd look in their eyes didn’t help her highly nervous state.

  She was about to go below to her cabin, her hand already on th
e wooden frame when for some unexplainable reason she turned her head slowly to the right. Her feet took her in quick strides to the balustrade. Her hands gripped the scarred wood. Her heart uncharacteristically fluttered like a woman about to swoon. But swoon she didn’t. She just stared in amazement at the speck.

  It had grown considerably. She still couldn’t make out a form, but it was closer, larger, and darker in its strange presence.

  Catherine heard it then. It was more frightening than any clamor she could remember. It was stillness. No sailor spoke. No sails flapped. No wind blew. The ship had suddenly stilled in the sea.

  She shivered as though desperately wanting to rid herself of a horrible premonition of doom.

  Captain Morley broke the thick silence with a loud command that sent the men scurrying. Sails were raised and small barrels were carted and stacked near the cannons, prayers were no longer whispers.

  Catherine watched the chaotic action, stunned by what it represented. The captain obviously expected an attack. She stood stock-still until a sailor softly offered to see her to her cabin.

  The young man closed the door behind him. Catherine remained standing in the dark interior uncertain what to do. It was several minutes before she forced herself into action and convinced herself to stay calm. She lit the oil lamp on the table next to her bed and removed her cape.

  A book would ease her worries. She sat on the bed and reached for one of the two books on the table. She hadn’t thought of what book would best entertain her, and she found comfort in the fact that her hands had chosen her Bible. She would find peace within its pages.

  She opened the book and one name jumped out at her. Lucifer. She snapped it shut hard, closed her eyes tightly and tried to calm the thunderous pounding of her heart.

  Several hours later supper was delivered to her room. The sailor who brought it smiled apologetically and assured her all was well. The captain just felt it was best she kept to her quarters for extra protection.