Gunpowder & Gold (Justified Treason, Book 4): Endless Horizon Pirate Stories

by Cristi Taijeron

  The moment we reached the crate he said was full of shoes, the bell on the entrance flap of his tent rang. Mister Bernard peeked out front to see who had arrived, then looked at me and excused himself, “Je suis désolé, mon cher Rose Noire. I must deal with this important delivery. Can you show your friend the shoes?”

  “Oui, I certainly can, Monsieur.” I agreed, but the look on his face had me worried. Sensing some sort of danger, I told Yakob to open the crate and then crept up to the opening with my pistol at the ready in case Mister Bernard needed help.

  From where I stood, I watched a well-dressed man enter and greet Mister Bernard. “Hello, Monsieur Bernard.” The man bowed, his glossy blond locks, laced with silver streaks draped before him.

  “Welcome, Captain Tate.” Mister Bernard crossed his arms as Captain Tate rose from his graceful bow. “I have been eagerly awaiting your arrival, and I am sure you know it was not so I could indulge myself in your fanciful greetings. Did you find what I sent you for?”

  Flicking his curls behind his broad shoulders, Captain Tate casually stated, “No. I did not.”

  “Did you miss the ship?” Mister Bernard barked. Apparently he did not view this matter as casually as Captain Tate did. “I gave you the schedule. There is no reason why—”

  “I found Emily Rose, Mister Bernard, and I loved her so much I took her as a consort. In fact, I am considering making her my flagship…”

  Looking entirely annoyed by Captain Tate’s unnecessary sharing of details, Mister Bernard interrupted him with an agitated growl, “So you are now in possession of the ship I sent you after, and you love her dearly. I do not give one horse’s asre about that. Tell me what went wrong on this hunt I paid you to pursue.”

  Appearing to be abashed by Mister Bernard’s lack of manners, Captain Tate said, “There is no fanciful tale to tell, Monsieur, the items you desired were simply not aboard. I am sorry to deliver this unfortunate news, but to compensate you for the trouble, I will sell you the plundered items from the raid at a discounted price.”

  “Bring them in tomorrow. I will need to make room.” Mister Bernard grumbled under his breath as he hastily headed around the counter. He did not sound appeased.

  “Very well,” Captain Tate said. “In the meantime, I am looking for a new hat.” He picked a hat off the shelf, put it on his head, and gazed at himself in the dirty mirror.

  While Captain Tate sorted through the many hats on display, Mister Bernard checked on me and Yakob. “Did you find anything?”

  Slipping on his nine-hundredth pair of shoes, Yakob said, “Wait…” Standing up, he did the test he had done so many times today, but this time, it turned into a silly jig. “Yes! These are perfect.”

  Knowing that Mister Bernard never sold anything without a lengthy bargaining process, I strolled around the counter and sat in the orange velvet chair as the bidding began. The moment I plopped down, Captain Tate looked at me. His sea-weathered face lit with a peachy grin. “Aren’t you a lovey thing.”

  After the morning I’d had, I was more than pleased by the compliment. “Why, thank you, sir.”

  Removing the hat he had recently adorned, he said, “Can an old man like me have the honor of knowing the name of a stunning young beauty like you?”

  “Black Rose.” I flashed a cheeky grin.

  “Ah, I have heard plenty about you, but I never figured a woman capable of the feats you have accomplished could be so beautiful. Might you be willing to grace me with the tales of your adventures over a fine bottle of wine?”

  Before I could respond, a familiar face peered in from outside the tent. “Charlotte?”

  It was Royce Freeman. Less than a year had passed since I’d last laid eyes on his absurdly handsome face, yet it felt like a lifetime ago since he’d tempted me into having an affair with him while Sterling was out at sea. Naturally, I had denied his dirty rotten pirate dog offer, but now, staring into his icy blue eyes, admiring the way his dark black curls draped over the shoulder of his plum colored coat, I wondered how the hell I had resisted him.

  Bending at the knee, Royce kissed my knuckles. “You are far more beautiful than I remembered.”

  Admiring the way his dimples deepened as he smiled at me, I felt my cheeks warm. “It must be the scar, huh?”

  “In truth, that is a great deal of it. It shows strength without taking from your beauty. In fact, I am compelled to ask if you would honor me by having a drink with me.”

  “Well, thank you for the compliments, Mister Freeman.” I shrugged my shoulders girlishly, then stood up next to Yakob, who looked the least bit pleased by my flirting.

  Captain Tate, who also appeared to be annoyed by the way Royce had intercepted his attempt to woo me, pointed between me and Yakob and said, “I believe Mistress Black Rose and this fine gentleman are together, Royce.”

  Yakob patted his axe. “She is together with Sterling Bentley, so perhaps the both of you can ask him about your ideas to treat his lady.”

  “She is with Sterling Bentley?” Captain Tate let out a condescending laugh. “Oh, I had heard he was but her cabin boy these days.”

  I opened my mouth to defend the honorable sea captain, and Yakob looked ready to do the same, but Royce beat us to it. “Excuse me, Captain Tate, but Sterling Bentley is a revered navigator, who is known as much for his talent with maps as for the swiftness of his blade. I can certainly assure you that his arrangement with Black Rose is an honorable one.”

  Captain Tate held his hands up in dramatic surrender. “Well, excuse my lack of information.” No longer looking interested in the matter, he went to pay Mister Bernard for the hat he had chosen.

  “Thank you, Royce.” I smiled at him.

  “I speak the truth when it is due. Now, about that drink?” He took my hand.

  Yakob gently tugged me away from Royce. When I looked up at his face, he shook his head no.

  I laid my hand on Yakob’s arm. “I am a big girl, Yakob, and I could use a drink. We’ll be in there if you miss me.” I pointed to the Dandy Daisy, the tavern next to The French Quarter.

  After saying goodbye to Mister Bernard, I gave Yakob a hug and headed to the tavern with Royce.

  Entering the Dandy Daisy, I looked around at the newly painted walls, ivory lace curtains, and neatly placed furniture. “This place is surprisingly nice.”

  Pulling out a chair for me at a table near a window, Royce said, “I had a drink with the owner last night. He is one of those men who likes men, and fine linens.” He rubbed the blue silk tablecloth. “He just had this place built. Designed it himself, he did, and though he plans to keep it nice, you and I both know that nothing lasts here for very long.”

  While Royce ordered our drinks from the well-dressed barmaid, I eyed the flowers growing in the flowerbed outside the window. Red, orange, yellow, and a deep dark purple, the colors were bright and welcoming. Reaching out to touch the velvety petals, I decided I would have beds like this lining the windows at the inn I would eventually design and decorate myself, The World Traveler.

  “They have nothing on you.” Royce’s voice pulled me out of my reverie.

  “Who? What are you talking about?” I looked around, wondering what I had missed.

  “The flowers.” He grinned while removing his colorfully feathered hat.

  Taking off my hat as well, I playfully said, “I forgot what a charmer you are, Royce Freeman.”

  “Believe it or not, I am not always this way, but your presence tends to bring out the gentleman in me, Charlotte.” He poured me a glass of rum. “Do you mind if I still call you Charlotte?”

  “It’s fine. I kind of like how it reminds me that I used to be a dress wearing lady.” I accepted the glass and cheered with his.

  As our glasses clanked together, his blue eyes brightened. “I remember well just how lovely you were in a dress.”

  Though I enjoyed the way this dangerously handsome man adored me, I had not forgotten that I was married. Nor had I forgotten that he di
dn’t care that I was married. Taking my shot—which quickly reminded me that I had planned to shun the heathen drink—I pushed the glass away and changed the subject. “So, how do you know Captain Tate?”

  “I am quartermaster of the crew he captains, in fact. Do you not like the rum?”

  “Oh, I like it all right, but I forgot that I was trying to quit drinking it.”

  “Why’s that?” He put his hands together and looked at me, beaming with interest.

  “It gets me in trouble.”

  “Then let me get you some tea.” Smiling with understanding, he flagged the waitress. When she arrived he asked her to bring me tea along with a loaf of bread and a side of butter, all of which he tipped her very well for. Once my order arrived, he said, “So, I hear that you are also a quartermaster, now.”

  “And how did you hear that?” I asked while buttering my bread.

  “Ah, this exciting news was shared with me upon my last visit here. I also heard that you singlehandedly killed Giovanna Vittore, which made her evil witch vanish into the deep. And that you recently cut out the heart of a nobleman to keep him from raping his servant girl, along with a few other, less thrilling, but equally respectable tales.”

  Naturally, I pried into the details of these other stories going around about me. Most were over glorified renditions of things that had happened, but some were sheer falsities that I let him believe anyhow. After sharing all he knew, he said, “I am quite impressed by your accomplishments. Please, honor me with the grand tale that led you here, loaded with gold and armed with a fierce reputation.”

  While sipping on my tea and chewing on the tasty bread, I went on to tell him the long, wild story about how a little woman like me earned my power among these big, fearsome men. He listened with wide eyes and asked many questions, but didn’t seem to have any interest in anything concerning Sterling.

  “That is a fascinating tale, Charlotte.” He raised his glass of rum to meet mine cup of tea. “I knew you were a different sort of woman, but I had no idea you would have come so far on your own.”

  “Well, in case you missed that part of the story, Sterling’s power is a great part of my success. In fact, I could not have done any of this without him.” As my mind flashed over all the negative and annoying things Sterling had said and done concerning my position on his crew, I felt my jolly expression contorting into a scowl.

  Noticing my change of mood, Royce squinted curiously. “Tell me, Charlotte, how does the notorious artist of the sea feel about commanding his crew alongside the Mighty Rose of Darkness?”

  Enthralled by the way my reputation—and nicknames—were spreading so rapidly, I giggled before I answered, “He respects me well enough, but I’m sure he’d rather me be the dress wearing Charlotte.”

  Royce reached for my hand. “Ah, I am certain it is tricky for a man to share his command with a woman, but from all I have heard you seem to have proven yourself quite worthy of the position.”

  My heart filled with a rush of pride. “Well, Mister Freeman, that is quite complementary hearing that from a buccaneer such as you.” Realizing that I had once again fallen too deep into his enchanting gaze, I shook my head and retracted my hand. “Are you still buccaneering?”

  “Oh, I suppose you could consider me more of a hunter at the moment. Tate and I have been taking on specific jobs for stated amounts of pay. Less risk, higher success rate.”

  “Except for today.” I shrugged my shoulders in a teasing manner. “But we all fail from time to time.”

  Appearing to be hurt by the jab, he puffed up. “We may have failed Mister Bernard, but the mission was far from a failure.”

  “Oh? So you do have what my merchant friend sent you after?”

  “Worry not about Mister Bernard, my dear. I did not bring you here to talk about the vendors at the market.”

  “What is it that you brought me here for, then?”

  Assuming that he was going to tempt my loyalty to Sterling once again, I was quite surprised when he said, “I came to talk business.”

  Thrilled that he would come to me, rather than ask me to lead him to Sterling, I straightened my shoulders and took on a serious tone. “And what is it that you would like to discuss with the Mighty Rose of Death, Mister Freeman?”

  He leaned in close, and spoke quietly, “I am sure you will understand that I cannot say much at this time, but I will have you know that Captain Tate and I have all the needed intelligence to lead us to a prize of great value. From what I know about the way you and Sterling run your crew, I am certain your Wicked Rose would be an exceptional consort for the hunt.”

  Though I had thrown a terrible fit this morning about wanting to retire, I suddenly found myself quite interested in this job. Especially if it was one of less risk and a higher success rate. Plus, I was enjoying the way this powerful man respected my own power. “I will certainly run it by my captain. Is there anything else you can tell me to help catch his interest?”

  “Tell him that in exchange for what I soon shall have, the King of England himself will burn that Wanted poster of Sterling, along with anyone who tries to question his stance with the law thereafter.”

  Attempting to tame the thrill rushing through my veins, I stuttered, “I, I am, well, I will certainly let him know.”

  “Very well.” His absurdly saucy lips lifted in a satisfied grin. “I am staying at The Polished Pearl, so if Sterling is interested, please bring him to room five tonight and I will inform you two of the greater details.”

  Though I was unsure of what the greater details would entail, my interest in finding out led me to say, “I can assure you that I will be there, and hopefully he will join me.”

  Reaching out to shake my hand—like I was nothing more than a respected business associate—Royce Freeman evenly stated, “Now, only you and I and the devil know that this conversation was had, and though I am sure I don’t have to remind you to keep hushed, keep hushed.”

  Thrilled by the possibilities of this opportunity setting us free from our troubles with the English law, and possibly even allowing me to reunite with my family, I rushed through the streets of Tortuga excited to tell Sterling the news. I figured he would fuss, and would most certainly doubt my ability to make wise decisions on my own, so I prepared myself for the debate. I felt a little better about my stance knowing that Sterling was the one who told me Royce Freeman was a fairly respectable man. Though he still had no idea that Royce would bed me behind his back in a heartbeat, I had faith that he would trust him well enough to do business with him.

  Walking up the stairs at the inn, I started thinking of how I would apologize to Sterling for the way I behaved that morning. I had pressed the issues with little concern for his feelings, and though I still felt the same about the parties and our future, I was ready to address the matter with a better understanding of his perspective.

  Rounding the corner that led to our door, I heard the irritating cackle of a familiar giggle drifting down the hall. Nearing my door, I realized it came from within my room. My heart jumped in my chest as I realized Shannyn Barlow was in there. Leaning my face against the door, I heard the rumble of Sterling’s voice. They were in there together!

  Frozen stiff with jealous terror, I stood there like an idiot and listened as Shannyn asked him, “What is it that you want?”

  Thinking about his response when I had last asked him that question this morning, I rolled my eyes. But to my dreadful surprise, the son of a bitch gave her a much different answer. “What do I want? Ah, I don’t know what the hell I want. I certainly never thought I’d marry, but ever since I took her as my own, I knew I’d have to make some changes. Yet, it’s still hard to imagine letting go of the life I’ve loved for so long. Of course, I enjoy the hell out of it, but beyond that, it’s all I know. It’s almost like I’ll be giving up my spirit if I go ashore again. I tried it once and, well, that calm, quiet life, doing the same thing over and over, was a lot like jail.”

  My h
eart sank into my gut. While I festered over the fact that he shared all those feeling with her instead of me, I heard her say, “Well, what about your artwork? I remember your father was always saying you should find a way to make a living by selling your maps.”

  Bitch. Ugh. I hated the fact that she knew his father.

  “I’ve thought about that. But without sailing regularly, I think my charts, as well as my reputation, will lose their value.”

  “Why don’t you continue sailing while she runs her inn?” I couldn’t believe her, trying to sound like a caring friend.

  “No,” he huffed.

  “Why not, Sterling? It’s what you love.” She said it like she knew him oh so well. Because she did.

  “Ah, Charlie don’t want to be stuck ashore without me.” His voice sounded muffled, like his face was in his hands.

  “Aw, Sterling, that isn’t right. A woman should wait for her man ashore. I suppose, if I ever found me a worthy man, I’d be good at that, because I never want to sail again and I’m fine on my own.”

  “Not Charlie. No, she gets herself into too much trouble. And now that she’s got this vile reputation, the common folk will treat her like shit. She don’t think about that part of the story but it plagues me daily. Her troubles are my troubles whether she thinks so or not.”

  I felt my face reddening with anger. I didn’t think I could ever be more upset, until she said, “Do you ever think you’d like to be free of them troubles?”

  Them troubles? Oh, I could choke her! Resisting the urge to break down the door and do so, I waited for him to put her in her place. I prayed that he would defend our marriage and his loyalty to me. But he didn’t say a word.

  In the absurdly painful silence, I heard her quietly say, “I have always loved you, Sterling. If you’ll be with me I’ll love you and support what you love. I’ll wait for you ashore and make sure everything is nice at home when you arrive. And I will never, ever keep you from the sea.”

  I knew it! That bitch. I continued to listen as I readied my pistol, giving him one last chance to stand up for what we had. Not a word was spoken as I shoved the musket ball down the barrel, and the haunting silence remained as I poured the powder in the pan.