Capturing the Pirate's Heart (The Emerald Quest Book 1) (3 page)

Stretching across, he pulled at
the knotted tangle until the rough rope burned into his palm. He repositioned
his feet and moved closer, and gave it an almighty tug and the frayed ends of
the tangle let go.

“Look out, Captain!”

As the first mate’s shout
reached him, the rope beneath his feet moved and Sébastien knew he was going to
fall. Twisting his body, he leaped into mid-air to the port side and closed his
eyes as he stretched into a diving position. The cold muddy waters of the
Mississippi covered his head as he sank beneath the surface and he kicked and
swam upward, spluttering as the taste of the mud hit his throat.

Charming.
Now he’d have to wash and
change into fresh breeches before he went to meet the governor. He looked up
and despite his anger at the mess in the rigging, Sébastien grinned as half of
his crew peered over the side of the boat at him. The gap-toothed grin of his
second mate caught his attention as he looked up at the faces above him

***

Madeleine had shaken off Uncle Titus’ arm as he’d shoved her
roughly below deck. No doubt he deemed it inappropriate for her to be in the
view of the ship full of sailors pulling into the wharf ahead of them. To her
relief, she had not endured another lecture as Uncle Titus had gone straight to
his bunk and fallen asleep after eliciting a promise that she would stay below
deck.

“We are in an unfamiliar land
and there may be no other women around.” His bulbous nose twitched with distaste
at the thought of Madeleine having any freedom.

One of the best things about the
voyage had been her uncle’s constant sea sickness. Madeleine smothered a smile
at the uncharitable thought. Uncle Titus had managed to drag himself to the
deck for the daily prayers and the Sunday service but had retreated immediately
below decks when his sonorous sermon had finished. Madeleine could have told
him that if he’d stayed up in the fresh air, the sickness would have soon
passed but it suited her well to have him below deck. Spending the time looking
out at the ocean and chatting with young Jake had served her very well. She had
planned her escape and intended to put her plan in place as soon as the time
was right. She’d given no thought as to what would follow her escape and how
she would return to Bellerose, but her determination to succeed in finding the
necklace pushed those problems to the side. The first step was to get away from
her uncle and make good her escape.
Maybe I am being naïve
? Maybe a
young woman alone with very little money would find it hard to achieve her goal
in this town? She swallowed and pushed her doubt to the side.

Still, once she came back on
deck after her Uncle Titus had fallen asleep, a niggle of doubt tugged at her.
She was keen to watch what was happening as the vessel next to their boat
moored and unloaded its cargo. It could give her an idea of the direction she
would take to get to town. It had nothing to do with wanting to see the
handsome sailor who had waved to her before Uncle Titus had grabbed her. His
eyes had been full of sympathy and she had felt a sizzling connection with the
stranger who had caught her eye.

Unfamiliar warmth had rushed
through her belly as he’d smiled and waved at her. He had turned his head and
held her gaze across the narrow space between the two boats until Uncle Titus
had pulled her away from the side. The sailor was tall and dressed differently
than the other crew members on the boat. His chest was bare above his tight
breeches and the broad expanse of bronzed skin had set her belly churning.

When she thought about it, it
was not uncomfortable and it was a pleasant sensation. It was the same tense
pull above her thighs that had set her legs to trembling when she had read
Great Aunt Josephine’s diary.

She moved to the aft of the
boat, keeping her head down as the crew scurried around to ready the vessel as
it moved closer to the wharf. Her bolt hole was on a pile of ropes behind the
wheelhouse and it had been a comfortable retreat for her throughout the journey.
She lifted her head as she sat with her back against the warm timber but there
was no sign of her friend, Jake.

“Look out, Captain.”

The warning was followed by a
loud splash and Madeleine jumped to her feet and ran to the side of the boat.
Her fingers gripped the smooth timber as she craned forward looking into the
dirty water. She jumped and put her hand to her chest as the water swirled in
front of her and a sleek head broke the surface. Raucous laughter drifted
across the narrow gap between the edge of the boat she was gripping and the
vessel that was about to moor behind it.

“Fancy a dip, did ya, cap’n?”
Half a dozen crew members lined the edge of the deck, pointing at the figure in
the water. “And you have a pretty lady watching too!”

Madeleine didn’t have time to
retreat to the shadows before the man turned and looked up at her. His black
hair was plastered to his head, and his eyes were full of laughter. White teeth
flashed in a tanned and ruggedly handsome face.

Oh my goodness, it’s the man who
waved to me.
He’s
the captain, no less.

She inclined her head graciously
and stepped back into the shadows of the wheelhouse as he treaded water and
kept his gaze fixed on her. Her heart fluttered in her chest and she swallowed.
Never before had she laid eyes on such a fine-looking man. She sank back into
the pile of ropes with her hand on her chest as her heart beat a tattoo in her
chest.

The laughter and ribald comments
continued and she watched from the shadows as he swam toward the boat. A rope
was thrown down to him and Madeleine gasped as he pulled himself up the side of
the boat. Strong muscular thighs were outlined by his wet breeches and water
droplets ran down his bare back. His muscles flexed as he pulled himself hand
over hand up the rope.

“Your uncle is looking for you.”
Madeleine jumped and looked around as Jake’s urgent whisper reached her as he
scurried past with his freckled face looking down. She shot him a grateful
glance and stood carefully, smoothing her hands down the stiff fabric of her
black bombazine mourning dress. She adjusted her bonnet and put a smile on her
face as she stepped around the wheel house to face the thunderous look on Uncle
Titus’s face.

“I instructed you to stay below
deck.” His voice was cold and he grabbed her arm.

“I am sorry, Uncle. I was
feeling poorly and came above deck for a draught of fresh air.”

“Ready yourself. We are going
ashore to meet Jeremiah Benjamin, your future husband,”

“My what?” Cold dismay filled
her chest.

“You are to marry Jeremiah and
travel with him to Antigua. The Lord has spoken to me and I shall be leaving
you with him as I go to minister to the heathens.”

“I will not.”

Uncle Titus held her arm tightly
and Madeline winced as he lowered his face to hers.

“You will. We are to meet him in
the town. I do not wish that he witness your disobedience.” Her arm burned from
where his fingers pressed through the stiff fabric of her dress. The captain
has kindly allowed us to sleep on board tonight to save seeking lodgings in town.”

“Yes, Uncle Titus.” Madeleine
kept her voice meek as her stomach burned with anger. How could a man be so
different from his brother? She blinked away the tears that filled her eyes as
she thought of Father. He would have been horrified to see how Uncle Titus
treated her.

But only for a few more hours.
Soon she would make good her
escape. When they went ashore she would look around to seek the best way to
elude her uncle…and her intended husband.

***

Sébastien glanced up at the British frigate moored beside his
vessel. He knew his square rigger looked out of place in the river beside the
sloops and the flat boats of the river traders, and was sure he gained extra
interest from those who knew what his vessel was capable of.

But not for much longer.

It had been a difficulty mooring
for the frigate beside his vessel as the tide had raced past, and the captain
had had to send for a large flat boat to pull them in with ropes. One of the
African slaves had stood next to Sébastien as the dozen men had grunted and
rowed the flat boat until the frigate was pulled in close to the quay. A
glimmer of a smile had crossed the dark-skinned face and he’d commented most
ungraciously on the talents of the captain of the British vessel. Sébastien had
shot him a curious look. The man’s knowledge had surprised him throughout the
voyage.

After a last order to the first
mate to keep the crew on board—and sober—until he returned, Sébastien strolled
down the gangplank. The afternoon shadows were lengthening and the number of boats
crowded side-by-side made the wharf area even darker. As soon as he reported to
the governor, and he found out the details of his very last mission—he allowed
a brief smile to cross his face—he would seek some pleasure in the town. He
picked his step up a pace and jumped off the end of the timbered plank,
watching out for the mud that had been churned up by the traffic on the wharf
that day.

Sébastien looked curiously at
the British frigate. It was still not secured to the quay and two crewmen were
bringing down the sails. A young cabin boy gave him a cheery wave from the aft
deck and Sébastien grinned back at him.

Someone else who was pleased to
see the shore. It was damn good to have his feet on land again.

There was no sign of the young
woman who had looked down at him in the water. A pretty blush had stained her
high cheekbones, almost as dark as the rosy red of her pretty lips. He would
seek out one of his female acquaintances in the tavern tonight. If the reaction
of his body to a pretty woman, despite the chill of the river water, was any
indication, the pleasure of a warm soft body against his was long overdue.

But first things first.
The governor would have had
word by now that his boat was moored at the quays and he needed to make his way
to the meeting.

***

“Tonight?” Sébastien stared at
Governor Carondelet, dismayed by the instruction he had just been given, yet
delighted that his last mission was imminent. “Francisco, as much as that suits
me very well, my crew will be rebellious if they do not have at least one night
on land.”

Governor Carondelet flicked a
speck of imaginary dust off the waist-length satin waistcoat beneath his
cutaway tailored coat. “Time is of the essence, Sébastien.” The governor’s
delicate eyebrows were raised in surprise; he was obviously taken aback that a
mere ship’s captain would challenge him, no matter the successful intelligence
work that Sébastien had done for him for the past two years. The governor’s
time in the Spanish-held settlement had been busy as he had attempted to thwart
the Americans from trying to secure unchallenged access to the
Mississippi River
. But, since the Treaty of San Lorenzo had
established a friendship between the United States and Spain and defined the
boundaries of the United States with the Spanish colonies, Carondelet’s
attention had now turned to the slave trade which he abhorred as much as
Sébastien.

“It has been reported that the
British trader, the
Ann Marie
is heading to Barbados, loaded with
slaves, and it is without an escort.” The governor’s smile was bland. “We can
take advantage of the attention that the British navy is now paying to the
French on the seas. The
Ann Marie
can be intercepted before she reaches
the West Indies. But you only have ten days, before it is too late. They
departed the Gold Coast of Africa six weeks ago.”

“And what shall I do with the
cargo?”

“I will leave that to you, for
the time being, Sébastien.” The governor crossed to the ornate oak sideboard
and lifted the decanter of port. The golden liquid caught the candlelight as he
removed the cut glass stopper. “I have more concerns with the fear of a further
rebellion in Louisiana since the new slave code has been introduced. The slave
owners are, shall we say, less than enamored of me at the present time.”

“Slave code?” Sébastien had not
heard of this. “When did that happen?”

“Since the French abolished
slavery two years ago, the local plantation owners have been vocal, as they
fear for the cotton industry as well as the sugar production. I have formed
three companies of people of African descent and there are now prescribed
standards for quantity and quality of food and clothing for the plantation
slaves.”

“That is wonderful news.”
Sébastien took the glass of port and swirled the liquid around in the glass
before taking a sip. “You are aware this is my last mission?”

The governor nodded. “Yes, I am
and I wish you well in your venture to the Hawaiian Islands.

Sébastien’s head flew up and the
governor smiled at him over the rim of his glass. “I have spies everywhere,
Captain, and please do not fear, I know of your concern with your brother. Your
gold is safe. I have ensured that for you, in appreciation of the fine work you
have done for me.” Carondelet crossed to the window as the last rays of the
setting sun hit the glass. “I fear that it will be a long time before the king
can…it will be a long time before the slave trade is abolished in all the
dominions of Spain. In the meantime, I, and your vessel, shall play our small
parts.”