by Merry Farmer
“No threat of the hangman’s noose…” I scanned the paper again, but it didn’t give the answers I sought. “Only for me, or for all of my crew?”
My entire body seemed to hover on a razor’s edge as I awaited the answer. No matter what, I would never put my crew in danger. Would a privateer’s license be worthwhile if I had to accept the Navy’s men in place of the women I’d lived with and trusted these past two years?
Milton answered, “For your entire fleet. I’ll admit, I don’t know how many that is, hence why it isn’t specified. You will be granted a rank in the Navy, and you will all have to deal with a particular point of contact—me. Which means I’ll have to be seeing a lot more of you to relate orders and such.”
Behind me, Tamara harrumphed. “Orders?”
She didn’t sound approving.
He paid her only the briefest attention before switching his gaze to me once more. “I tried to add the Fortune into the deal, but I fell short on that account. The rest of your fleet is included, however. Largely, you’ll be able to continue operating as you have been, terrorizing the French and keeping the goods you acquire save for a small tariff. But you’ll fly under the Union Jack. And from time to time, if the Navy needs reinforcements, your gunships may be called on to serve. It’s all there, and in more detail, in the license.”
The license, the second page after the pardon, was a mess of legal jargon that I had to concentrate with difficulty to understand. Fortunately, I had women aboard my ships more fluent in these sort of legal matters. I stared at the page with unshed, happy tears in my eyes and my chest tight with emotion. I’d wanted this for myself and my friends two years ago. Now, I had freedom in my hands, thanks to the man who had championed me to the government body who had dismissed me out of turn. I wanted to think I might have been able to do it myself, but realistically…
Milton cleared his throat and shifted his weight. “You…you haven’t said anything.”
I blinked my eyes hard to banish the tears. Donning the mantle of responsibility once more, I folded the page and tucked it into my belt for safekeeping. I met his gaze boldly. “I will have to put the matter to a vote among my crew and the other ships in the fleet. I cannot presume to answer for anyone other than myself.”
The thump of a cane hailed Grand-mère joining us. She plucked the pardon from my belt and flipped it open to read it, muttering under her breath. “Mon dieu. I suppose this means we will no longer be on the wrong side of the law. And here I fancied myself going out in a blaze of glory at the end of the hangman’s noose, with songs sung about me.”
With a watery chuckle, I shook my head. “I’m afraid your life won’t be cut short any time soon, I promise.”
Despite her protests to the contrary, she didn’t look all that disappointed. She winked. “Unless we’re captured by the French.”
Milton teased, “You’d probably have them fighting for you by the end of the day.”
For the first time in my life, I watched my grandmother blush. She handed the letter back to me. “Oh, posh.”
Milton clenched and unclenched his fists. “Jeanne, not to pry, but your entire crew is staring, and you haven’t said a word other than business.”
I blinked up at him, not quite comprehending his meaning. “Oh?”
“About…” He cleared his throat. “You and I.”
Three words that made my body tremble with anticipation. They conjured memories of tangled linens and kisses so hot they burned away my fears about tomorrow. I let my gaze travel down his broad shoulders and arms, admiring him. Until I noticed the way he flexed his hands, nervous.
He looked away, then returned his gaze to me. “I feel rather adrift at the moment, I have to admit. This is the part when I would ask for your hand in marriage, but I think you’ve made it rather clear you aren’t interested. So, Jeanne, will you take me for, erm…”
I bit my lower lip hard, but still couldn’t stifle my smile. “Bed sport?”
Was he blushing? He flashed me a short, devastating smile. “Well, that, among other things. Will you take me to have and hold whenever our duties allow? Which, since you’re the commander of your fleet and I’m your point of contact, I imagine it will bring us together with some permanency. At least for the duration of the war. After that…”
He was babbling. He was nervous. For me? I rescued him by standing on tiptoe and kissing him flush on the mouth. His arms encircled me as he pulled me closer, parting his lips to deepen the kiss. My ears rang with the whoops and catcalls of the crew.
When I dropped down onto my heels once more, I murmured, “We’ll find a way. Yes, I’ll have you. I love you.”
His mouth tipped up in a smile that made my toes curl. “That’s a relief, because I would move heaven and earth to keep us together.”
When he leaned down to kiss me, I met him halfway. As I melted into his embrace, I heard Hanna’s distinctive sigh.
“And she didn’t think him romantic. If only I found someone to move heaven and earth for me.”
Grand-mère chuckled. “Give it time, my dear. There’s more than one way to find happiness and, yes, even love. And with this pardon, I sense our lives are about to change. You may be surprised…”
About Harmony Williams
Harmony Williams is an unrepentant tea lover, book addict, and nerd. She lives in Ontario, Canada with her partner and their 100lb lapdog, Edgar.
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Pirate’s Treasure
by Mariah Stone
A Time Travel Romance
Chapter 1
City of Pirates Museum, Jade Island, The Bahamas, August 2019
Samantha
“He’s so handsome.” I nudge my best friend, Lisa, in the ribs. “And yet he couldn’t find a date for the ball.”
“James ‘Prince’ Barrow, 1690-1720,” reads the sign below the portrait of a pirate who looks like Prince Charming.
“Who wouldn’t go to a ball with him, Samantha?” Lisa says. “No man can look this dreamy.”
Forgetting the tour guide watching us, I roll my eyes. “I wouldn’t.”
James Barrow reminds me of Lisa’s ex, with his pretty face and his nose held high. The conceited, arrogant, pleased-with-himself type who thinks the world belongs to him.
James Barrow’s golden hair falls in soft curls to his shoulders. What color are his eyes? Blue? No, they’re a bit unusual. Violet? I thought the only people with violet eyes were heroines in romance novels. It must be the artist’s touch or the aging paint. Thick golden brows arch over his eyes. Today, he could be a Hollywood star or a pop singer that teenage girls secretly cry over.
Not a pirate.
“The other guy is my type,” I say pointing at the portrait hanging next to this one. Cole the Black.
He’s handsome, too, but in a more brutal way. His hair long and dark, his eyes almost black under his low eyebrows—everything about him screams danger. The type of man with whom I have an understanding: no commitments, just one night of no-holds-barred, panty-melting sex.
Between the portraits hang two identical golden necklaces with jade stone pendants, and a note “replicas” under them.
“Well, Cole the Black does look like your type, Samantha,” Lisa says. “He needs someone to love his lost soul, just like you.”
I snort. Lisa and her compulsion for romance. That’s what got her here, so heartbroken. Just open your heart for a jerk to step on, to laugh at you, and to destroy your soul. Exactly why I’m not getting involved in anything serious anymore. It’s a pain I know all too well.
Memories tighten my airways and my heart races. The heat is not helping. There’s no air conditioning, and the opened windows of the building let in the scorching August air from the vastness of the Atlantic and cloudless blue sky. It smells like pear, mango, and hot
stones. But I’m not complaining! The whole vacation is a pleasant contrast with New York and probably the last bit of relaxation I’ll get for the next few years due to the big promotion that awaits me.
The guide raises his eyebrows in surprise and chuckles. He is a man in his sixties, local to the islands. He has a bright red headscarf on, a simple white T-shirt, a necklace of colorful beads around his neck, and the most astonishing thing of all…
A live snake.
It slithers around his neck, its split tongue flickering and trembling in the air. It makes my skin crawl. The man—his name is Adonis, and I’m sure it’s a nickname—has assured us it’s not poisonous. I am not sure I believe him. I only agreed to take the private tour in the hope that Lisa would be too distracted by the snake to think about Hank. I didn’t think pirates and history would be interesting at all. So far, I’ve been completely wrong about both. I’m supposed to be the badass between Lisa and me, but surprisingly—or perhaps not, considering she owns a pet hotel—Lisa loves the snake. And I find the museum fascinating.
Adonis pats the snake’s head, the gesture so freakish it makes my bones freeze. “Cole the Black split the bounty from their combined raid on one of the Spanish ships that transported valuables from the colonies back to Spain. Attending the ball was the only way to get the last clue to the location of the treasure. James was lucky he got the Marquis de Bouchon and his wife’s invitation, but it wasn’t enough. The governor’s staff wouldn’t have admitted him had he gone alone, and he couldn’t hire a local prostitute to act as his wife,” Adonis said. “The governor knew every single one, so he would have called his bluff right away. Without a woman to help James get to the ball, he never got the treasure. Tired of a sailing a long time without profit, his crew mutinied and he lost his ship. He was ready to retire, get married, buy a villa, and lead a peaceful life, but instead he was imprisoned by the Royal Navy and hanged in Bristol. His noble family was there, watching their pirate son hang.”
Cold sweat trickles down my back, imagining old gray England and that gorgeous man hanging by the neck, dying. I want to yell at him to find someone, to save himself.
“So did he want the treasure to stop the mutiny?” I ask.
“Yes,” Adonis says. “He had never seen piracy as the way to live forever. He even met a woman once, a pirate captain, wanted to settle down with her.”
“But he didn’t marry her, I assume?” I say.
“That’s right.” The snake turns and looks at me, its tongue darting in the air. I shiver.
“Anne betrayed him during their raid on the Spanish ship, and James had to lie low from the British Navy for a long time afterward.”
“That must have broken James’s heart,” Lisa says.
Adonis nods. “It did. But at least Cole kept his word and hid James’s part of the treasure.”
“See!” Lisa exclaims. “I told you, Cole was just a lost soul. He could have taken all the treasure for himself, but he didn’t. He just needs love to open up his heart.”
I shake my head. “I’m astonished you are still a hopeless romantic even after the breakup.”
Adonis chuckles and seems to exchange a knowing look with a snake. Could he be any weirder?
“So that no one else could get the treasure,” Adonis continues, “Cole created three clues to its location. The first was the island map, the second was the exact location of the treasure on the map. James found both of those. The only thing he was missing were the coordinates of the island.”
A sense of adventure begins to sizzle through my blood like a drug. It’s intoxicating.
“And somehow the governor got the last clue,” I say.
“Yes. The governor arrested a pirate who was supposed to give the coordinates to James. Of course, the governor didn’t know exactly what he had. Cole had hidden the coordinates in a Chinese cricket box he’d picked up when he’d raided the ship of an Asian merchant.”
Lisa frowns. “A cricket box? What’s that?”
I know the answer to that. “It’s like one of those Japanese puzzle boxes that looks like a box of solid wood, and you have to guess where to push, press, and slide to open it.”
Adonis chuckles. “You are very right, madame. How do you know?”
“My grandpa was Japanese. He collected those puzzle boxes and let me play with them. I loved watching him open them.”
Adonis cocks his head, and his dark eyes glimmer. “If James had been able to steal the box and get it open, maybe he would have lived a very different life.”
“I wish he had found a woman who could help him,” Lisa says, and Adonis seems to hide a smile.
“Was the treasure found?” I ask.
“Yes. Eventually. These two necklaces”—he points at the jade pendants—“are their replicas. Two identical necklaces, for two noble twin sisters in Spain. Cole put one in James’s half and kept one for himself.”
I study the necklace. It’s pretty. The gold is pale, the oval jade pendant encrusted in a sun-like ornament. “Why jade?” I ask.
“They say in voodoo, jade is the gem of love, so strong, people can find each other anywhere. Even through time.”
As he says that, the world seems to stand still—only his lips move, and the snake. A shiver runs through me, as if someone just poured a bucket of snow over my head. Find each other through time? What nonsense. And why is he looking at me like that?
I exchange a look with Lisa, and she looks as amused as I am. Voodoo, time travel, love. Right. I want to snort, but I don’t want to offend Adonis, or his pet snake…
“Would you like to try it on?” Adonis asks.
“What?” I say. “Aren’t we forbidden from touching stuff in a museum?”
Adonis smiles. “Not when I am your tour guide.”
Lisa looks at me. “Yeah! Why not. They are replicas anyway, right?”
He removes the necklaces and hands us one each. The metal is cool and smooth in my hands, and it starts to buzz ever slightly. No, it must be just the contrast with the heat. The jade is so pretty. It has all these shades and swirls of gorgeous green, from light to dark, probably different layers of stone from ancient times to more recent.
“Yes, just replicas,” Adonis says. “Put them on. Go on.”
“I don’t know,” I say and shake my head. I hold the necklace out to him. “What if the guard comes? Aren’t we going to get into trouble?”
Adonis winks. “The guard won’t come. I promise. When else will you have a chance to try on a pirate treasure?”
Lisa looks at me, I look at her and we nod to each other, barely noticeable. “All right,” I say. “A fun thing to do. Something to remember in New York.”
As I put the necklace on and the stone touches my ribcage, something begins to happen. It’s as if the air around me contracts and pushes me from all sides. I can’t breathe. The colors around me smudge, and everything is a blur.
“What’s happening?” I yell and try to remove the necklace. But I can’t feel my body.
All I can hear is the snake’s ominous hiss.
“You are traveling back in time to help James. To return, you must put on the necklace.”
This is insane!
“Lisa, don’t put it on!” I yell, but I don’t know if she heard me because she just stands there.
He must have put some drug on the necklace, because I feel as if the pressure is crushing me, as if I’m getting smaller and smaller, and the wind is blowing at me from all sides, and then there’s a strange rocking sensation under my feet.
And then the world goes dark.
Chapter 2
Waters near Nassau, The Bahamas
August 1718
James
The sun setting behind the windows of my cabin lights the hand-drawn map of the island in my hand in a red-orange glow. A perfect color for the volcano indicated in the center of the island. Cole, you smart and fearless bastard. A dormant volcano is a good guard for the treasure chest.
S
ea Prince rocks gently on the waves. My cabin is filled with the scent of sea and sandalwood, of the ship that has been my home for years, but that no longer feels like home.
I crave the scent of earth, of tropical flowers and growing things. I want to build a home on the solid ground and earn an honest living. I want the companionship of a dependable woman who won’t betray me.
I do not want to look over my shoulder anymore. Do not want to court danger.
I want peace.
But it looks as though I will not get it. I do not have the island’s coordinates. And without a woman to attend the ball with me tonight, I will never get them…
A sudden movement catches the corner of my eye, and I jump to my feet, whirling around, pistol in hand.
A woman lies on the floor where a moment ago I could swear there was empty space.
I blink and strain my eyes to make sure I am really seeing her. Was she sent to me to make my wish come true? Did God decide to smile on me? She lies on her side, one arm outstretched, her bright yellow gown revealing the curves of her breasts. Her arms are completely nude, whereas her legs are covered almost till her feet. She’s wearing strange shoes, her scandalously exposed feet held to the soles only with thin straps. Her long raven-black hair is loose and spread on the floor. Her eyes are closed, her face serene and beautiful.
Is she a spy? A thief who came looking for clues to the treasure? A prostitute hired by my crew?
“Who are you? How did you get here?” I demand.
Her eyelashes begin to flutter. She stirs and moans a little. Then her eyes open and they’re dark and deep and full of confusion. She takes in everything, as though she is seeing a different world.
“What’s going on?” she mutters, her voice deep and melodic, with an accent resembling one from the colonies. She looks me over carefully, and then the meaning of a gun pointed at her seems to register. She pushes against the floor and sits up. Her eyes widen in fear, and her full lips part.
