Page 23

Twenty-Three

B oots scuffed on the floor above me. I woke disoriented then remembered I was in a cabin aboard the Sea Storm. I had fallen asleep after eating Ace’s concoction that I prayed was mostly potatoes.

I meant to sneak out of the cabin once the crew was asleep, but the side effects of time travel, fatigue, and hunger caught up with me.

Rolling out of the swinging bed and almost face planting, I gained my balance and peeked out the window. There were more ships in the harbor. Damn. I’d overslept and the sun was higher in the sky than anticipated.

I’d slept in my frilly dress, so I braided my hair and made use of the facilities. Raising my hand to the scarred wooden door, I knocked until Shrug opened it.

“What ye need, miss?”

At least he wasn’t calling me witch. “I’d like some fresh air. A walk around the deck.” An Egg McMuffin with a side of hashbrowns.

“I’ll escort ye to the deck for ’eh short walk.” He motioned for me to go ahead of him, turning so the butt of the rifle poked me in the backside. He steered me up a steep ladder. Climbing rung by rung in my stilettos with the ruffled homage to Mary Poppins gathered in one hand wasn’t a speedy task.

Shrug poke checked me in the ass.

“I’m climbing as fast as I can.” I spilled out onto the open deck and stood blinking at the blinding sunshine.

The crew moved lazily about, as if they had all the time in the world to work the riggings, scrub the deck, mend sails, and test ropes and lines. They didn’t look like men preparing to set sail.

I made a sun visor with my hand and looked out toward the mouth of the harbor. No sign of Woodes Rogers’ fleet of ships.

The Sea Storm’s sails were trussed up, and the ship’s flag hung limp. There was little, if any, wind.

I turned toward Shrug. “Are we getting ready to set sail?”

Shrug shrugged.

An unexpected giggle escaped because, well, he shrugged, and I couldn’t help the irony. I clapped a hand over my mouth.

His dark, bushy brows drew together at my schoolgirl giggle.

“We can’t sail until the wind picks up. Right?”

Silence.

I crossed the ship’s width to view the other vessels anchored in the harbor and, beyond them, the beaches of Nassau.

Shrug followed behind me, a little closer than I liked.

“Which one is Captain Vane’s ship?” They all looked the same to me.

Silence.

“Not much of a conversationalist, are you?”

“Take yer walk, witch. Then we go below until the cap’n’s ready.”

I turned swiftly at his foreboding tone. “Ready for what?”

“For the joining of yerself wit’ the cap’n by God for life.” Shrug’s mouth widened into a partially filled, gap-toothed smile. He reminded me of a jack-o-lantern.

“Joined for life?” I pondered the words for a minute, and then my chest constricted. I couldn’t breathe. My hands flew to my neck. I tried to suck in air.

Shrug whacked me hard on the back. The air whooshed in, and I coughed. “You mean I’m supposed to marry the captain?”

“Ye’ll be wedded and bedded before we leave the harbor. Rowan’s promised a feast for the crew. And he’s payin’ fer the musicians from the village.” Shrug danced a little jig on the deck.

“Wedded?” I questioned but it wasn’t the wedded that worried me. It was the bedded .

“Aye.” He nudged me with the butt of his rifle. “Get your walk. You’ll be need’n energy for the cap’n.”

Jeez, Louise. “I can walk fine by myself. No need to prod me like an old mare.” Time for a come-to-Jesus meeting with the giant. No way was I marrying a sixteen-year-old boy.

He bumped me again and chuckled.

I pointed a finger at him. “If you touch me with that rifle again, I’ll give you something to think about.” I sounded like my dad, but it was a good threat. Shrug wasn’t a big guy, and he had a limp. I could sweep his feet and take him to the ground, hopefully without getting shot. The empty threat lifted my spirits.

I walked the length of the ship, Shrug’s rifle bumping my butt with every step. I’d almost reached my butt-bumping limit when I saw Rowan and Max with their heads bent over a table. Now was as good a time as any to talk Max out of marrying me and make plans for me and Ace to sneak off this ship.

“What are you looking at?” I peeked around Rowan at the map on the table. Both men straightened and turned at the sound of my voice.

“Keep to yer walkin’, witch. The cap’n’s busy.” Shrug nudged the butt of the rifle into my butt again.

Without thinking, I turned quickly. Shrug reared back, pointing the gun toward the sky. I rammed my heal into Shrug’s instep. As he reached for his pained foot, I swept the other one and flipped him on his ass.

Rowan’s deep baritone came out in a low, rumbly laugh.

Shrug jumped to his feet, scooped up his gun, and aimed it at me.

“At ease, Shrug.” Max stepped between us.

“Innit right to ’ave a witch on the ship.” Shrug tugged his jacket back into place. “Makin’ me a fool, she did.”

Rowan held a hand up. “The crew knows ye slipped on the wet deck. No way could the woman best ye.”

I opened my mouth to protest but caught Rowan’s warning look as I felt the eyes of the crew watching us.

“God’s teeth, that’s the truth. Me feet slipped out from under me.” Shrug flashed his head right and left as if looking for the cause of his poor footing. “I’ll have words with that scallywag swab.”

“I serve punishment on this ship.” Rowan straightened to his full height and pointed to the nearest rails. “Wait there until Miss Jennifer is ready to go below deck.”

Shrug stood a few paces away, as if guarding the captain from the evil doings of the witch.

Max sent a well-trained glare at the crew, and they returned to work. He stepped aside, allowing me a view of the table. The map was spread open, held in place at the corners by a seashell and rocks.

A cup of tea on a pretty porcelain saucer was offered by a young boy and I took it, allowing the tepid tea to soothe me from Shrug’s hopefully mistaken news.

“Is this a map of Nassau?” I ran my fingers across the tattered surface.

Rowan turned his attention back to the map. “’Tis a map of New Providence Island and the islands off the British Americas coast.”

“We’re meeting Captain Vane’s ship here.” Max pointed at the tip of Florida.

Close to the Spanish fleet’s wreckage, I thought.

“How long will it take us to sail there?” My rough calculations guessed several days at the least. I didn’t have time to sail the seven seas. My time travel clock was a-tickin’.

Max sent Rowan a concerned glance, making my heart race a few beats faster.

“I have bonne news.” Rowan grimaced but looked down at me. “The captain has chosen ye for his wife.”

The tea jostled in my stomach, threatening a preview of the Boston Tea Party. Shrug had been right.

Max’s ears pinked slightly, but his jaw held stern and he frowned up at Rowan. “Row, I should ask her proper.”

“After the ceremony, you’ll be given residence at the captain’s plantation in New Providence.” Rowan continued, ignoring Max’s romantic request. He placed his finger on the map. “Here.”

A loud huff escaped my lips, and I didn’t bother hiding it. I glanced over at Max, who suddenly ignored me. He didn’t look overly excited about becoming my husband. I wasn’t sure if I was relieved or offended.

Rowan’s enormous frame shadowed me from the sunlight, and I caught the irritation in his eyes. I brushed away a hair that had pulled free from my braid. “I’d like a word with the captain.”

“I handle the captain’s affairs.” Rowan placed his hands on his hips, fingering the flintlock pistol at his side.

“Then, I’d like a word with you.”

He grunted but agreed with a slight nod. I led him to the other end of the ship. Away from Shrug and his randy rifle, and Max.

He crossed his brawny forearms over his lumberjack chest, those golden-blue eyes burning a hole in my head with his condescending stare. It was like the guy could see my thoughts. “Ye have something to tell me?”

“I do.”

“Keep practicing those words. They’ll come in handy later. I have a wedding planned for ye.”

“A wedding?”

“Aye, the captain has requested the ceremony. ’Twill happen at sunset.”

The captain was a romantic. “I can’t marry Max.”

“The captain has taken a fancy to ye.” His emphasis on the word captain held a threatening tone. I made a mental note to always refer to Max as Captain Smith, and fumbled for reasons to postpone the wedding until the bride could make her getaway.

“I mean, what’s the rush? We need time to get to know each other.”

“Ye may know each other after the ceremony. The captain wishes to be married rapidly.”

Good grief. If I didn’t come up with something to stall these guys, I’d be married to a sixteen-year-old captain from 1718 by nightfall. I needed to find Ace and jump ship. I looked over the side for a vacant rowboat. It was a long, long way down.

“Mayhaps ’tis another reason ye dinnae want to marry the captain?”

“He’s too young.”

“He’s of age.”

“I meant he’s many years younger than me.”

Rowan scratched at his scruff of beard. “’Tis true he hasnae proven his seed, and ’tis a problem ye might be barren at yer age, but the captain has chosen ye and God will determine the rest.”

Barren? The nerve. He made me sound like a dried-up old hag. I had to get out of here. No way was I marrying a child. “If I’m going to marry the captain, I’ve a few conditions.” Stalling could give me the time I needed to escape.

“What might they be?” He cocked his head in an agreeable manner but his eyes held skepticism.

“I’d like to have a priest. And a wedding gown. And have my friend, the cook, walk me down the aisle. You’ll need his blessing.”

“Ye need the blessing of yer manservant?” He did a partial eyeroll. It was kinda cute. My inner voice kicked me back into focus. She wanted to marry Caiyan and his magic tongue.

“Yes. He’s more than a servant to me. I must speak to him immediately.”

“If the cook has finished with the morning meal, I’ll have him sent straightaway, and you may take nourishment in your room.”

* * *

Max approached us, shadowed by Shrug. “It’ll be my pleasure, Miss Jennifer, to have you as my wife.” He held my gaze for a moment, then looked at Rowan. “Captain Vane has left the Ranger for the Fort.”

Rowan took the spyglass from Max and aimed it toward a rowboat with eight men oaring toward the beach.

“Can I have a look?” I held my palm up.

Rowan grimaced but handed me the spyglass. “Do ye know how to use it?”

“You look through the small end.”

Max laughed at Rowan’s sour face. I loved his laugh. He was so full of life. So opposite from the man who stood on the other side of me, stewing at my every move.

Rowan had secrets. I was sure of it. But he was different from Caiyan. My Scot had life squeezed in his fists despite his secrets. He wasn’t afraid of anything. Rowan was afraid, and I didn’t need to use my gift to deduce that he feared losing Max.

I put the spyglass to my eye and searched the harbor. I took note of the boat Vane’s crew left behind. The Ranger . It wasn’t that far away. Ace and I could manage.

A large ship I didn’t recall seeing yesterday flanked Vane’s Ranger . A man stood on the bow. He was also using a spyglass, panning out toward the horizon and then back at me. My stomach squished, and the hair on my arms stood at attention.

Mortas.

He jerked his spyglass away and stared openly at me. I lowered mine slowly, but not before his look of surprise turned into the evil smile I’d grown to despise.

“What is it?” A worried expression creased Max’s forehead, and he took the spyglass from me.

“The man on the bow of that ship. Who is he?” As if I didn’t already know. But I wanted to know if they knew him.

Max raised the glass. “The new captain of the Lark . Vane has sworn him to the cause. ’Tis him, is it not, Rowan?” He passed the instrument to Rowan.

“Aye, ’tis a strange one. I met him last we were in port. He killed a man for taking his coin. Captain Vane likes that sort of thing. ’Tis what makes him so dangerous. He shows no mercy. Now he’s gained a captain with the same code.” Rowan clicked the spyglass shut.

I hoped Vane had shown mercy to Marco and Sasha. I didn’t see either of them swabbing the decks of his ship.

“Mayhap he will be joining the search for the treasure?” Max seemed to be counting heads on the new ship, dividing his booty by more than he hoped.

“Nay. We willnae be heading to sea.” Rowan shook his head and gestured toward Mortas. “He’s convinced the other captains in Vane’s fleet to take the pardon, stay in port. Besides, ye have a wedding tonight. Ye have more things to worry yer mind than treasure.”

Max’s face fell. “He won’t do it. Vane hates the English. He’d never stay in port and do their bidding.”

“He told me hisself. If his captains vote in favor, he will abide. After he takes the pardon, he must stay at the fort. We are to sail for the treasure another time.” Rowan stared out at the ships in the harbor.

“Captain Vane is taking the pardon and then stealing sunken treasure from the Spanish?” I set my teacup down. “Isn’t that still being a pirate?”

Rowan did his grunt thing. “A good captain obeys the laws of the sea.”

Max turned toward me. “Vane doesnae obey the rules, but if he doesnae allow his captains a vote, they will replace him.”

Double dilemma. I didn’t want to burn up on this ship, but if Vane took the pardon and didn’t flee to the Florida coast, history would change, allowing plenty of time for a wedding.

No fire ship. No escape. No saving Marco.

I had to get off the Sea Storm and find Marco before I became Mrs. Captain Smith.

“Where’s Silver?” I asked, trying to sound nonchalant, but my voice quivered slightly. Rowan’s eyebrow ticked up. Damn.

“Vane’s got him in the hold. He’s no riskin’ his escape before he takes him to the treasure .” Max’s stubborn dig at Rowan’s wedding plans made me hide a smile.

Rowan looked up at the sun as if checking his watch for the time. “We must prepare to leave the ship.”

“Where are you going?” I placed a hand over Max’s forearm. Shrug pointed the rifle at me.

Max waved him off. “We must attend the pirate council. We hold a vote now that we are part of Vane’s fleet.”

They were going to the pirate meeting. Plans formed in my head faster than a sail whipping in a cyclone. I’d go to the meeting and change their minds about the pardon. Then they would flee to the sea before Rogers arrived. In the chaos, I would rescue Marco—and maybe Sasha.

“I feel a vision coming forth.”

Both men turned toward me, and Rowan cocked a suspicious brow.

I raised my hand over my head and shook my index finger. Using my best Martin Luther King Jr. impression, I shouted, “I have a dream.” Then, for emphasis, I rolled my eyes back in my head and crashed to the ground. The deck was much harder than I’d anticipated, and I might have cursed upon impact. I squeezed my eyes shut and hoped for the best.