Beloved Captive (12 page)

When he felt he’d accomplished his goal, Caleb stopped short and turned to face the vessel and its captain. “Agreed. I shall send my second and you yours. Mine will carry two bags of gold, and yours the girl.”

“No seconds,” the pirate shouted. “Only us.”

Again Caleb remained straight-faced. “A moment to collect the treasure, and I shall board my boat. You may do the same.”

A short while later, Caleb found himself at the oars of the small boat, two bags of the ship’s ballast at his feet and a length of hemp connecting him to the
Cormorant
hidden beneath the surface of the water. He’d left his boots aboard the ship, deciding the pirate’s pride would never let him notice his adversary had taken precautions in case he was required to swim.

There was no need to light a lantern and find them, for the pirate had one affixed to the front of his vessel, the better to see the feminine prize seated beside him.
 

“
 
‘Pride goeth before destruction’,” Caleb whispered.

“Halt,” the pirate called when the boats were several lengths apart. “I’ll toss over the rope, and you tie it to your boat. When this is accomplished, give a signal.”

Caleb smiled, knowing this meant he could not be seen in the dark that lay outside the lamp’s golden circle. Had the pirate been able to make out his image, he would not have asked for the signal.

The rope sailed toward him, and he caught it. When the knot was tight, he called out to the pirate.

“Begin to pull,” the pirate said, “and I shall do the same.”

Slowly the crafts closed the gap between them until Caleb could almost reach out and touch the other boat. He looked directly into the face of the woman, and for a moment his heart stopped. Her cheek held two things that made his blood boil: a tear that slid over a bruise in the shape of a man’s palm.

He quickly finished his assessment, noting she appeared to be of approximately his age and, except for her current situation, seemed to be well fed and well cared for. Her style of dress bespoke serviceable luxury, and her stiff posture told him she’d spent time under the tutelage of someone who valued proper behavior.

Affecting a casual air, he turned his attention to the pirate captain. To his satisfaction, his face was marred by what likely was the woman’s handiwork.

“It appears I’ve been swindled,” he said as he pointed toward the man’s wounds. “Unless you can swear you received that injury in battle, I’ll not be tangling with her no matter how enticing she might be.” He gave the woman another look and prayed she could see through his ruse to the man he really was. “I’m not of a mind to require my surgeon to stand by no matter how sweet the prize.”

“I warrant you’ll tame her soon enough. Until then I’d advise keeping her bound,” the pirate said. “Now hand off the treasure before I change my mind and shoot the both of you for my inconvenience.”

A gasp escaped the woman, but she did not move nor spare him a glance.
Show her, Lord, that I’m here to save her and not to cause her fear.

“Upon my signal, we switch,” Caleb said. “First the woman, and then the treasure.”

The pirate nearly stood up in the craft, such was his obvious displeasure. “Indeed not,” he shouted. “You will tie the treasure to our rope. When I pull it in, I will toss the woman to you.”

Another gasp, and this time the woman made eye contact with Caleb.
Calm her, Lord, and let her understand I’m doing Your will here.

“Can you swim?” he called to her.

“She cannot,” the pirate said. “Although I have seen her float quite well.” He paused to prod her arm. “Better than your shipmates, eh, pigeon?”

It was all Caleb could do not to lunge out of the boat and swim over to throttle the man. Only the need to keep his temper in order to save the woman kept him sitting still.

“Upon my mark,” the pirate said. “Have you tied your bags to the rope?”

Caleb leaned into the vessel and pretended to tie the bags, then straightened. “Proceed,” he said. “I am prepared.”

“And you, pigeon, what say you?”

The woman remained stiff and unresponsive. She did, however, continue to stare at Caleb.

“I shall assume that your silence gives consent.” The pirate laughed. “That’s from Aristotle,” he told Caleb.

“Plato,” the woman corrected. “He also said ignorance is the root and stem of all evil.” She swiveled to face him. “Which would make you, Mr. Hawkins, an entire orchard and the field beyond.”

With that, she pitched backward and disappeared into the water. In the chaos that followed, Caleb dove in and cast about for the woman who would surely drown unless the ribbon
 
encircling her wrists was untied.

“The treasure, Mr. Benning,” Caleb heard as he broke the surface. “Else I shall have to shoot.”

Caleb swiped the water from his eyes then looked up into the barrel of his opponent’s pistol. “The treasure,” he repeated.

“I’ve not yet received what I purchased,” Caleb responded as he reached over to grab hold of the pirate’s boat, “so I suggest you join me in search of her, else I’ll be forced to return to my ship with what I brought.”

“You’re a fool,” he said. “I neither swim nor have the inclination to wait while you do.” In one swift motion, the man jumped over him and into Caleb’s boat. There he plucked the bags from their resting place and reached for the oars.

Caleb gave a whistle and the lifeline holding the rowboat to the
Cormorant
tightened and caught, sending the vessel speeding toward the big ship. The pirate, unable to leap for fear of drowning, held on tight as he shouted a warning to his crew.

Prepared for this reaction, one of the lads aboard the
Cormorant
began ringing the watch bell. Every time the pirate shouted, the bell rang. Thus, the men aboard
Hawk’s Remedy
did not realize their captain was being captured until the men poured over the side of the
Cormorant
and placed him in shackles.

Meanwhile, Caleb reached for the lantern that bobbed from the other boat. He cast a glow across the water until he found the floating figure of the woman. When he reached her, she began to flail about.

“Stop it,” he shouted as he gathered her to him, her fists pummeling his back as he fought to remain above the water. Thankfully, her kicking legs seemed to be tangled in her skirts, for he felt nothing but the occasional swipe of a foot. “I am trying to save you, not drown with you.”

“Unhand me,” she demanded as she continued to struggle. “You’re as bad as the other fellow.”

A cannonball landed dangerously close, causing the woman to scream and clutch Caleb so tight he began to go under. With a kick, he resurfaced.

“Should you continue this behavior,” he said as he turned to find the little boat was drifting farther from reach, “I will leave you to that other fellow. See if he will come rescue you.”

The woman stilled.

“Exactly. Likely you’ll just be shark food.” He shifted positions but did not release her. “It is your choice.”

Treading water, he waited, refusing to loosen his grip even if it meant swallowing sea water in the process. Finally her strength left, and she collapsed against him.
 

“So,” he said, “are you done with this foolishness?”

She remained still, saying nothing. Finally he heard a soft yes whispered against his ear.
 

She remained passive as he pulled her along, his free arm propelling them toward the boat while the other kept her within reach. Once at the side of the boat, he placed her fingers on the side and instructed her to hold tight to the wood while he lifted himself in. To put her in first would be to risk watching her row away without him.

The wild-eyed look she gave him once he righted himself inside the craft told Caleb he’d guessed correctly. “I’m going to pull you in,” he shouted over the blast of weaponry from the vessels behind them. “Should you fight me, I will release you to the sharks. Should you think you’re going to harm me in any way, be advised I have marksmen watching your every move.”

“Fair enough,” she said in a voice so shaky he could barely understand.

With a modicum of effort, he hauled her into the boat and deposited her at his feet. She sat for a moment, seemingly stunned that she was once again on something solid. Then the wild-eyed look returned, and it appeared she might dive back into the ocean.
 

“Sit there.” Caleb pointed to the vacant plank that served as a bench, then forced his breathing to slow. “Should you decide to swim once more, you’ll not have my further assistance.”

“I’m fine here,” she said, her hands clutching either side of the vessel and her back leaning against the plank.

Caleb glanced over at the warring vessels, then back at the woman. Likely her choice to remain lower than he in the water would serve her well should Hawkins have pistols trained on them. He extinguished the lamp and reached for the oar.

“Very well.”
 

He grasped the oars and turned the craft toward the back side of the
Cormorant
. Grapeshot peppered the bow but thankfully hit neither Caleb nor the woman. Through it all, she sat still as a statue, her face pale in the moonlight.

Holding his breath until the
Cormorant
stood between them and
Hawk’s Remedy
, Caleb eased the vessel nearer the brig until wood scraped against wood. Immediately, a rope ladder fell to them.

Once aboard, the woman’s health quickly returned, and she began shrieking like a banshee. It took four men to catch her and two more to subdue her. The bravest of the bunch, a stout fellow of greater than average girth and height, shouldered her and returned his prize to deposit her at Caleb’s feet.

Caleb looked down and knew the moment the woman had the chance, she would once again bolt into the ocean. This time, however, she might not be found alive.
 

For a moment, he considered speaking privately with her, perhaps even explaining the words he’d blustered to the pirate captain were merely a ruse to lure him away from his vessel. But as the cannons began to fire and the battle renewed, Caleb knew he had no time to try to reason with an irrational female.

“Fletcher, go ahead of these gentlemen and see that my cabin is prepared for our guest.” He spared her only a cursory glance before giving his attention to his crew. “Upon Mr. Fletcher’s word, I would have you deposit her in my cabin. Perhaps tomorrow she will be willing to listen.” He accepted his pistol and sword from Fletcher, then addressed his crew. “Back to your stations,” he said. “I’ve a mind to take breakfast in Santa Lucida come daybreak, but we’ll not accomplish that with the pestilence that is the
Hawk’s Remedy
chasing us.”

“What would you have us do, sir?” the captain called.

Caleb smiled. “Exactly what my grandfather would have ordered.”

The captain turned to the crew. “See that the
Hawk’s Remedy
will no longer plague any vessel, let alone a Benning ship.”

Chapter 12

 
Emilie walked the confines of her gilded cage, unable to stop either her pacing or the recriminations that dogged each step. The phrase
if only
dashed across her mind, followed by thoughts such as:
If only I’d listened to my father and allowed Nate to accompany me. If only I’d chosen a different ship upon which to sail
.

With each
if only
came the realization that her impetuous behavior had finally resulted in consequences even she could not escape. She paused in front of a looking glass that had been bolted to the wall with heavy brackets.

Somewhere outside this tiny room, a battle raged with possession of her and two bags of contraband gold at its center. A cannon fired, and the mirror shook. Men shouted. Was that victory or loss she heard in their tones?

No matter. Whoever won, she would be the loser.

“This time, Emilie Gayarre,” she said to the disheveled wreck who stared back at her, “you’ve really done it. Your foolishness has caused you to be captive to not one pirate, but two.”
 

She tilted her head to see her injured cheek in the amber glow of a lone lamp hung well out of her reach. Though she’d never fancied herself a vain woman, bearing the sign of another man’s hand made her blood boil.

Where once her skin had been flawless despite the temptation to expose it to the Florida sun, she now bore a purple splotch where the vile Hawkins fellow had seen fit to strike her. Further examination of the bruise reminded her of other bruises, some from the sinking of the
Sunday Service
and others from fighting for her virtue and her father’s gold.
 

“At least I have one of them.” Emilie turned away from the mirror. “And I shall fight to the death before I lose what little honor I have left.”

She moved toward a desk that held nothing but ink, a pen, and an aged and mildewed copy of a book on sailor’s knots. Stuck within its pages was a slip of paper that looked to be a letter from someone named Spencer to the United States attorney general’s office.

“Poor Mr. Spencer must’ve had his library pilfered and his mail stolen,” she said as she slid the book back onto the desk. “The scoundrels.”

Another roar went up. This time, the victor’s cry was obvious. Emilie walked to the tiny porthole and found the glass to be clean and clear. Unfortunately, her only view was of a night sky and a black sea punctuated with dots of light above and pale, foaming crests that rose and disappeared below.

“I only wished to go home, Lord.” She sighed as she traced her finger around the circle of brass holding her window to the world in place. “I am a foolish woman.”

“Indeed.”

The masculine voice caused Emilie to jump. The door slammed behind a man whose presence not only filled the room but also filled her with dread.

The Benning, as she’d heard Captain Hawkins refer to him, stepped into the light. Whereas before she’d deigned not to give the man the satisfaction of knowing she looked upon him, now she decided a frank and open stare would go far in her campaign to convince him she felt no fear.