“You will lose your bet,” his matelot said.
This brought amusement to all who knew Belfry, but I was not party to it. My heart had skipped a beat at Dickey’s last word. As Gaston held me a little tighter, I knew he too remembered what I did. Belfry’s bride might not be the only one arriving from England. How could I have forgotten that?
“We should have stayed,” I whispered again in French.
“Perhaps,” he sighed in my ear. “It does not matter, though. We will endure and conquer, no matter what might arrive.”
We sailed into the Chocolata Hole in the third week of February. Beyond the cay, we could see a great many sails in the harbor; however, there were only two vessels in the Hole: a sloop named the Lilly and the Mayflower. We slipped between them and dropped anchor.
Striker hailed the Mayflower and was told Bradley was not aboard, but they intended to sail in three days. Morgan would be sailing with them. Two sloops with around eighty men had already departed for the cays. As Striker was trying to determine how many men the Mayflower thought she would take, I was wondering if I wanted to wait until he had an answer or desert the crowded ship for a time, as many of our men – those that did not fear debt or the high price of revelry – were already doing.
“I suppose we should visit Theodore and Agnes,” I said with some resignation.
“We need not go far for the one,” Gaston said, and nudged my arm.
I looked to see where he pointed, and spied Theodore on shore. He was speaking with some of our men who had just rowed a canoe ashore. As we watched, he gingerly clambered inside it to kneel and begin the journey out to us.
“This is dire indeed,” I remarked. I could guess at any number of things that would drive Theodore to meet us in the harbor: none of them were pleasant possibilities.
We met him at the rope ladder and helped pull him aboard.
“My dear Theodore, how are you?” I asked as we embraced.
“I am tolerably well, thank you,” he said. “Will…”
“And how is Mistress Theodore?” I asked.
“She is fine and…” He sighed as he saw my smile. “The babe is expected late this spring.”
“And Agnes?” I asked.
“And the dogs?” Gaston added.
He shook his head with a smile. “They are well, I assume. I have had no tragedy reported to me on their behalf. Agnes has ordered a great many things from London, expensive things, such that I am sending some payment in advance and a letter of credit to secure them, but as that is in keeping with your interests and instructions, I felt there was no harm in it. Other than that, she seems to be a dormouse with few needs. The dogs eat a great deal, though.”
“Lenses?” Gaston asked.
“Aye,” Theodore said and opened his mouth to speak again.
“Ah, that is lovely,” I interjected quickly. “And what of…”
He held up his hand; his voice was rich with resigned amusement. “Those on the plantation are as expected. They have planted a garden. I was able to secure a dozen Negroes from a recent ship, including a number of females. Belfry is well, quite well. The haberdashery goods have arrived, along with Belfry’s bride. And yours.” He said the last with determination, but his smile was kind. “Along with several unexpected travelers I feel you will wish to hear of.”
“Truly?” I asked.
His smile was just on the friendly side of smug. I rolled my eyes and motioned for him to continue.
He made us wait a breath more before saying, “Your sister, your uncle, and a man named Rucker, or so they all claim. As they arrived with a letter from your father, and there is a family resemblance, I took them at their word.”
I was understandably surprised. “That is unexpected but welcome news,” I said. “They are the only three people in all of England I will be glad to see. I am quite pleased they accepted my invitation.”
“I do not believe…” he sighed. “They left in haste, and I have the impression that their travel here was not due to invitation as much as necessity.”
My elations dampened. “Shane,” I whispered. “What have they said?”
“Who is Shane?” he asked. When I did not answer immediately, he continued. “They are not forthcoming with the details. Your uncle is a man of determined discretion, your sister does not trust me, and I have not been able to maneuver Mister Rucker away from them. They have been here but a week. They sailed south from Boston, after traversing the sea from England in late autumn. As only your bride arrived with the baggage and servants with which a young lady travels, I am led to believe your sister’s leave-taking was in haste. They have also let it be known that they want no fuss made of their arrival. Your uncle had an emphatic discussion with the governor over the matter. The governor, by the way, has let them use the King’s House for the time being. Your house was deemed unsuitable by your bride, much to young Agnes’ relief.”
“I must see my sister,” I said.
Gaston was already securing places for us on the next boat ashore. Alerted by the urgency of his request, Striker joined us.
“What is amiss?” Striker asked.
“Members of my family have arrived unexpectedly, and…”
Theodore was still watching me curiously.
“Shane was… is my second cousin,” I told him. “There is much bad blood between us. In demeanor, he is the son my father wished he had. Shane wished to marry into my family through my sister, Sarah, and I thwarted it. My father said he would shelter her from Shane’s wrath; and as my father is quite fond of Sarah, I believed him.”
“Perhaps this is how he has chosen to protect her,” Theodore said gently.
“Or she has already been harmed,” Gaston said bitterly.
That was my fear, and I nodded resolutely.
“Oh Lord,” Theodore sighed.
“Is this cousin here?” Striker asked.
“Nay,” I said and prayed it was true. “My sister, my uncle, and a dear friend have arrived. They appear to have departed England abruptly, traveling to the northern colonies during the storm season, and then here.”
“Can we assist?” Striker asked.
I thought of what I faced: a possibly wounded sister, my uncle defending my father, and the damn bride. I sighed. It would be good to have familiar and trustworthy faces about, yet Striker had his own agenda for our time here.
“You have things you must do,” I said.
He shook his head. “Bradley and Morgan are on their plantations. They plan to sail in three days. They will arrive before then but not tonight.”
“Do you plan to sail with them?” Theodore asked.
“Aye, I have poor men on board who dare not go ashore,” Striker said.
Theodore regarded me. “Well, this will be three days then in which hasty but indelible decisions will surely be etched upon your life.” He turned to climb down to the boat.
I looked to Striker. “Please come. I feel we might require all the assistance we can muster.”
Pete joined us, and the five of us took the next boat to shore. Once there, I began to lead us in a hurried march toward the King’s House.
“Hold,” Theodore said. “They are unaccustomed to buccaneers. Perhaps…a change of attire...”
He looked pointedly at Pete, who, as was his wont, was clad only in breeches and weapons.
I swore, and we turned onto Lime Street to go to our house. Once there, we discovered that Agnes had cleverly gated the passage alongside the house so that the animals were fenced in the yard. They had free reign of the exterior and interior, though, and initially seemed determined that we would not, until the older beasts recognized Pete and Gaston and allowed us entry. Once inside, we found that Agnes was not home.
“She is most probably with your sister,” Theodore remarked, as we ran upstairs to find suitable clothing. “Your sister took a liking to her.”
I thought that a fine thing.
“Ask him of the bride?” Gaston asked quietly
as we rummaged through my trunks.
I had forgotten her. I cursed and sighed, and called down the stairs. “What of the bride?”
“She appears to like no one,” Theodore said.
“Lovely,” I muttered.
“Excuse me, what was that?” he called.
“Lovely!” I said from the doorway.
“Aye, she is,” Theodore replied.
Striker chuckled from across the hall.
I stuck my head out the doorway and found Theodore peering up at me from the bottom of the stairs.
“It was not a question, but this is,” I snapped. “Who the Bloody Hell am I dealing with?”
He grinned. “Miss Vivian Barclay, daughter to the Earl of Whitlock.”
“Did my father send a letter with her as well?”
He nodded. “In short, you are expected to marry her: he will not suffer any excuse short of your death.”
“How does she seem about the matter?” I asked.
“Extremely displeased to be here. She asked a great many questions about you, and… your living arrangements.” There was warning in his tone.
“And what did you tell her?” I asked in a similar tone.
He sighed. “That like all buccaneers, you have a partner. Will, she knows you favor men; she was quite direct about the subject.”
I wondered who had told her. “How is she with my sister?”
“They like each other not at all.” He shrugged.
My father must have told her, then, or there was gossip about me all over London. I would not know until I spoke to Sarah. I would not know many things until then.
I returned to dressing. As Gaston was a bit shorter than I, though a little wider across the shoulders, my clothing fit him well enough if he did not attempt to duel or anything else that would require waving his arms about. I despaired when I realized we only had one pair of boots between us. I did not wish to don hose and shoes. But thankfully Gaston opened a small chest he had once stored at Massey’s, and produced a pair of soft-soled hide boots. They looked quite comfortable, and I eyed them with envy as he laced them up his calves. I reluctantly crammed my feet into my stiff leather boots, knowing full well they would surely baste my legs in sweat as if my calves were chickens put to broil. When we were at last fully attired in shirts, jackets, proper wool breeches, and boots, I felt odd and he appeared it.
We regarded one another with dismay that turned to amusement. Then we embraced. In my arms, his chest solid against mine, he was the epitome of what I wished for in this life. I wanted dearly to make all the other concerns go away, but they would not. As I rubbed my stubbly cheek on his, I thought we must shave; but I did not wish to take the time to do so before I saw Sarah, or give the appearance of caring so much what the damn bride might think. I sighed and held him tighter.
“I am well… enough,” he murmured. “I will hold the cart.”
“Thank you,” I breathed.
I could see us standing there on a road. The way ahead was dark and shadowed, and somewhere behind us, wolves howled. We stood close together, and I leaned upon him. His four legs were braced firmly: the cart would not slip, though the road was steep.
“If I bolt,” he continued, “I will drag you with me to safety.”
I released him enough to regard his face and found him smiling. I kissed him.
We were interrupted by Striker’s polite rap on the door frame.
Striker was wearing the clothes he had borrowed to attend the party at the Governor’s. They had found a shirt for Pete, and boots. We were all vaguely presentable, and Theodore judged us so when we tromped down the stairs in our unfamiliar foot gear.
“What is your sister like?” Striker asked as we walked up Lime Street.
“She is the only member of my immediate family I care to own,” I said. “She is intelligent, educated, opinionated, and she rides and shoots. However, I have only been in her presence for a mere month, and that a year ago. Prior to my return to England, I have vague memories of her as a quiet little child. She was ever in the nursery, or under the eye of the governess, and we never spoke.”
“So she is a good deal younger than you?” he asked.
“Aye, nine years.”
“NeverMetAMan’s SisterAfore,” Pete said thoughtfully.
“I hope you will like her,” I said. “She has much merit, and I would think she bears little resemblance to other women you have met and disliked in your life.”
Pete frowned. “SheBeYourSister.”
I was not precisely sure what he meant by that, but there was a great deal of traffic and other activity on Thames, and further conversation would have to be shouted. We hurried on in silence to the King’s House.
A wigged and well-liveried older man answered the door. He gave Theodore a grudging nod and a polite, “Good day, sir,” but gazed upon the rest of us with the open and righteous disdain of a servant who knows he never need bow to those beneath him.
Thus, I was mightily amused at the look upon his face when Theodore said, “Mister Coswold, is it? This is Lord Marsdale. Is your mistress in, and Miss Sarah, or Mister Williams or Mister Rucker?”
Coswold pulled his incredulous and appalled gaze from me with difficulty and addressed Theodore. “The ladies are here, sir, but Mister Williams and Mister Rucker are out. My mistress was not expecting… the Lord so soon. She is entertaining.”
“Well,” I said quickly, “we need not disturb her at this juncture. Though there is obviously much your mistress and I must discuss, for the time being, I only wish to speak with my sister. Please inform her we are here.”
“Aye… my Lord.” He did not look at me as he turned and entered the house.
“How many attendants did she bring?” I asked.
“Four,” Theodore sighed, and held up a hand to staunch my protest. “And they can stay here until a suitable dwelling is built; which your father sent additional funds to accomplish. I am having plans drawn up for the lot I procured for you in town…”
Sarah was hurtling through the door and into my arms before he could finish.
“Oh Marsdale, I am so pleased to see you at last,” she said into my chest.
Due to some incomprehensible trick of my memory, I did not remember her as being so small. Perhaps it was because the only other young ladies I had been about in the last year, Miss Vines and Agnes, were fairly tall for their sex.
When Sarah released me, I held her at arm’s length so that I could look upon her. Her grey-blue eyes were bright with happiness. I saw no taint of despair about her. Truly, she looked quite hale for someone who had traveled such an unaccustomed distance so recently. And I was pleased to note she was wearing a sensible, yet intricately stitched, light cotton dress.
“Here, I go by Will,” I said. “And you look well. I am delighted to see you, but confounded and concerned as to the why of it.”
“I know,” she said with a nod. Her eyes flicked to my companions.
“Let me introduce you…” I began to say.
“There is no need. Hello, Gaston,” she said and embraced my matelot as heartily as she had me.
He returned her embrace with sincere warmth, and smiled at me over her head. It struck me that perhaps meeting my sister might have been a disconcerting thing for him; but he showed none of the awe or confusion he had experienced when first meeting Miss Vines, and I was relieved I had not worried about such a thing before, and need not do so now.
She whispered something to him, and he whispered a reply.
“You are not drinking the water, are you?” he asked seriously when he released her.
She shook her head. “Nay, nay, Will explained of the little things swimming in it in his letter. I am quite fascinated. Agnes says she has ordered lenses so that we might observe them.”
“So you received my second letter?” I asked.
“Aye, just before…” She smiled. “That is part of my tale. But first, I assume these are Pete and Striker.” She turned and
smiled at them.
The wolves froze in surprise, and I thought the pair of them might hurl themselves off the stoop were she to attempt to embrace them. Thankfully, she did not.
“You wrote of us?” Striker asked incredulously.
“What’JaSay?”
“He said you are two of the finest men he could ever hope to meet,” Sarah said. “He lauded your friendship, loyalty, and expertise at all things buccaneer.”
“Well, Lady, you know your brother suffers from delusions, don’t you?” Striker said with a hesitant smile.
“I think not,” Sarah said with a grin. “I think I shall take him at his word on this matter, and expect great things of you.”
I was not so delusional I did not realize she was being flirtatious. It made me wonder how much she had understood of many things I said in my letter. But then again, Striker was a handsome man, and bore some resemblance in height, build, and face to Sarah’s latest unfortunate love interest, Shane: I had noted the resemblance myself when first I met him.
I was not the only one to interpret her words so. Striker flushed a little, and Pete frowned. I would have to speak with her at length. As it was, putting her before Striker in his recent mood was like waving meat in front of a dog. I silently cursed myself for not thinking of anything but my own concerns.
“And I believe you have met Theodore,” I said, before the pause after her words could become awkward.
She cooled quickly, and gave him a curt nod but did not meet his gaze. “We have met.”
Theodore gave her a compressed smile and nod in return.
He had mentioned she was not trusting of him. I thought it might be due to a perception that he was our father’s man. If true, this spoke much of her current opinion of our father.
“I did not write at length of Theodore in my letters,” I said quietly, lest Coswold or others be listening beyond the door. I stepped over to put an arm around Theodore’s shoulders. “But I feel I am as blessed to have his friendship as any other I have met on Jamaica. I did not write of him because he walks a fine path between the duties of his profession to our father, and his friendship with me, and I was not sure whose hands my letter might fall into.”
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