Capturing the Pirate's Heart (The Emerald Quest Book 1) (5 page)

It was almost midnight by the time Sébastien made his way
through the streets from Jackson Square back to the wharf. He’d passed the
taverns without a sideways glance and ignored the temptation of a quick drink.
There would be time for that when they were under sail later tonight. But
perhaps it would not be fair to the crew if he allowed himself the pleasure of
a drink, a meal, and the comfort of a soft, warm woman.

And that thought led him to
think of the young woman from the frigate. He had been hurrying to meet the
governor when she had stepped in front of him and he’d not been able to get her
from his thoughts. She had seemed distressed and he wondered what was
happening. New Orleans was a small town. He would be sure to find out who she
was if they were still here when he returned from his mission.

After Carondelet had left him
with the aide, they had plotted the route for his mission. The
Maiden
had to depart in three hours to catch the outgoing tide. Just enough time to
sober up the crew who would surely have disregarded his orders and cracked open
a keg. The muted voices of his men drifted over to him and the flickering light
on the stern cast shadows against the wheelhouse. He stood to the side and let
their conversation wash over him. Behind them, the Africans were sitting
quietly with their backs to the side of the boat. He had requested of their
leader that they look as though they were chained to keep up appearances and
they had been strangely acquiescent.

“It was your fault, boy.” The
distressed wail reached Sébastien as he stood at the top of the gangplank. “You
shall pay.”

“Ow, let go.”

The devil-dodger from the
British frigate was striding along the wharf in the darkness, dragging a small
boy by the forearm.

“I couldn’t stop her.” The young
voice ended on a wail as the man cuffed his chin.

“Her death is on your
conscience.” Anger filled the man’s voice and Sébastien looked to the side as
his first mate joined him at the side of the deck.

“Let. Me. Go.” The young high
pitched voice floated up to them.

“What’s happening, Mr.
Abrahams?” Sébastien turned to his trusted first mate. Despite being a river
trader, they followed the seafaring protocols of address.

“The young woman on the British
frigate went overboard while you were gone.”

“Young woman? The one in
mourning dress?” Sébastien frowned. It must be her; that was her husband who
was manhandling the cabin boy. His throat tightened and a hollow feeling
gripped his gut.

“Yes, we have assisted in the
search, but it was called off an hour ago. With the incoming tide, her body
will be way up river by now.”

Slap! The sound of a fist
hitting flesh was followed by a scream as the small lad fell to the ground.

“You will pay. I will ensure you
have no position on this boat. I will talk to the captain as soon as he
returns.” The man in the black coat was almost frothing at the mouth and
Sébastien couldn’t help himself.

The mistreatment of any human
being, of any color, age or creed, did not sit well with him. A slow anger
began to simmer within his chest. “I won’t be long.” He turned from Mr.
Abrahams and ran back down the gangplank to the wharf. The boy was curled on
the ground with his hand against his mouth and a trickle of blood ran down from
the corner of his eye. Sébastien ignored the man standing over the lad and bent
over and lifted him to his feet. The boy appeared to be about thirteen, at
most, and his grimy face was wet with tears.

“It weren’t my fault.” He
sniffled and wiped the back of his hand across his face, smearing blood and
tears in a long streak down his cheek.

“Leave the boy alone.” Sébastien
stood in front of the lad as the man lifted his hand.

“Mind your business.” The man
was wild-eyed and Sébastien knew if he didn’t intervene, he would hit the boy
again.

He turned to the boy who was
creeping away. “Go up on my vessel. My first mate will attend to your face. The
boy’s eye was already swelling where the man had cuffed him.

He called up to his first mate.
“Mr. Abrahams, see to the boy, please.”

“Yes, captain.” Sébastien waited
until the boy had reached the deck. Taking the arm of the angry man, a ripple
of distaste shuddered through Sébastien. “I understand you have suffered your
wife’s loss but—”

“My wife? I have no wife.” The
man pulled away from him “It is my niece who went overboard. Did she not know
it is a sin in the eyes of the Lord to take your own life?”

“I am sorry for your loss but
there is no need to take it out on the young boy.” Sébastien dropped the man’s
arm. He had little time for missionaries and their fervor. “I suggest you go
back to your boat and have a swig of something to calm you.”

The man’s cold, dark eyes looked
back at him vacantly for a moment before he turned on his heel and walked away.
“I will pray for calm, and I will pray for her soul. She was a spoiled young
woman from a wealthy family who did not worship our Lord.”

Sébastien shrugged and went
slowly back up to the deck. It was sad that a life had been lost. It seemed
that the man was more concerned with his own state of mind and his niece taking
her life than her actual death.

Such a waste.
She had seemed like a young
woman of spirit. Her face had hovered on the edge of his mind since he had
first seen her, and he knew it was one of the reasons he’d intended to lose
himself in one of the willing girls on shore tonight. She had made him think of
Lisette and it sounded as though she had grown up in a similar privileged
family. He wondered briefly why she had travelled with her uncle but soon
forgot about her as the first mate beckoned him over.

He was attending to the swollen
eye of the young lad who now held a damp rag to his face. Sébastien looked him
up and down. “You’re a cabin boy, lad?” he asked kindly.

The boy nodded.

“I am in need of a good lad for
my next voyage. Are you a good worker? Would you like to join my crew?”

“Oh, yes, Captain. I am one of
the hardest workers you will ever find.”

He held out his hand and the
boy’s small hand was almost lost in his grip.

“Welcome to the
Maiden
.
My name is Leclerc. Sébastien Leclerc.”

Sébastien grinned at Mr.
Abrahams as the boy’s mouth dropped open.

“Leclerc? Sébastien Leclerc? The
pirate?”

As Sébastien had anticipated, his crew was less than happy
with the news that they would be heading out to sea in the middle of that
night. A promise of extra grog rations when they restocked the boat at
Barataria Bay had placated them to some extent and they got to work setting the
sails as they waited for the tide to turn.

“I want our departure to attract
as little attention as possible.” He instructed the first mate who quietly
conveyed the message to the crewmen already climbing the rigging.

Sébastien made his way over to
the group of slaves who were sitting on the upper deck and inclined his head
for their leader to join him by the side of the deck.

“Those of you who wish to join
me will remain on the
Maiden
and assist with this miss—voyage.” He held
the man’s gaze as the lantern light from the crew up in the rigging danced
around them. “Those of your group who do not wish to stay on board can
disembark at Barataria Bay. But if all goes well, you may be able to join a
vessel that will be returning to your homeland.”

“I will speak to my brothers.”
The man left him and Sébastien walked back over to his first mate, glancing
down at the new cabin boy who was curled up asleep on the deck.

“See that the young lad has a
decent bed for the night.” He stared back over to the frigate. “I do not like
to see anyone treated so.”

###

Two hours later, as the tide slowly turned, the ropes securing
the vessel to the wharf were thrown from the bollards and the gangplank quietly
raised. Sébastien nodded with satisfaction as the outgoing tide caught them and
the lights of New Orleans were left behind as the vessel headed swiftly for the
delta on the racing ebb tide.

“A good departure, Mr. Abrahams.
Please convey my appreciation to the crew.” He let go of the wheel and looked
up at the rigging. “I presume the foul in the rope has been attended to?’

“Yes, Captain.”

The crewmen on his vessel were a
rowdy, lusty group of men, but he knew that the majority were loyal to him,
though a couple of the newer crew who had joined the vessel when they’d stopped
at Barataria Bay had yet to prove their worth, as did the Africans.

But Sébastien was satisfied for
the most part. Before they reached the
Ann Marie
he would brief the
first mate and he could convey their intentions to the men, but they had a week
or so before that would need to happen. Once they left the bay, there was a
risk of bad weather. It would be unfortunate if a hurricane were to jeopardize
this, his final mission.

Sébastien turned his attention
back to the river as they slowed; it was widening as they approached the delta.
As soon as they were into the Gulf, he would hand the steering over to Mr.
Abrahams and go below deck for some much needed sleep. He shook his head as he
thought of the sad fate of the young woman. Life could be cruel.

***

Madeleine had stood on her toes and peered through the narrow
opening in the hull until her legs ached. She leaned down, twisted the back of
her skirt into one hand and rubbed the back of each leg in turn. Her muscles
burned from standing too long, and she stood and stretched as a yawn overcame
her. She cast a glance at the wide bed beside her and dismissed the brief idea
of lying down on it. But a quick rest would reinvigorate her for the walk into
town, when all was quiet. She stepped over to the alcove where the small bunk
was hidden and cast her eye around for something soft to lie on. A coarse woolen
blanket, folded into a large square sat atop a small cupboard and she took it
down before shaking it and spreading it on the timber on the small bunk. She
slipped her shoes off and climbed up and lay there, placing her bonnet beside
her. Sleep was not an option, and she would keep her eyes open so she didn’t
fall asleep. She would count to one thousand to pass the time and then she
would go carefully back on the deck and prepare to leave the boat. Surely they
would abandon the search for her soon?

###

A loud creak of timber woke Madeleine and she sat up like a
shot. She rubbed her eyes and frowned. She must have fallen asleep. Just as she
realized that the boat was rocking from side to side, the door to the cabin
opened and closed with a soft click. Another creak and her hand flew to her
mouth.

It shouldn’t be moving so much,
wasn’t it  moored on the river?
They had left behind the rocking swells of
the ocean when they had turned into the wide river mouth yesterday.

Now she had the same sensation
of movement that she’d had on the frigate she’d spent the last month on. And on
top of that, she could hear soft noises as someone moved quietly through the
cabin, and she held her breath.

Thank the Lord she hadn’t given
in to the temptation of lying on the wide bed. She would have been in full view
of anyone who had entered the room and she certainly would have been discovered
by now by whoever was there, even in the darkness of the cabin. If she stayed
as quiet as a church mouse, she may be safe. Fear prickled her skin and she
clenched her fingers, too frightened to move, almost too frightened to breathe.
A lantern spluttered to life and she leaned back as far as she could when a
soft light bathed the space and shone through the thin curtain. That was all
that there was between her and discovery. A thin piece of material hanging from
three brass hooks at the top of the alcove. Now that there was a soft light she
could see the space she had hidden in. She glanced down and stifled a groan by
biting down on her fingers as she noticed the blanket was hanging below the
edge of the bunk, beneath the protection of the curtain. Her gaze settled on
her bare toes and she bit down harder.
Oh damnation
. Her shoes were
still on the floor beside the alcove.

A rustling of clothes was
followed by the sound of water being poured and she waited.

And waited…and waited.

After what seemed an eternity,
footsteps passed by her hiding place and she held her breath as a shadow paused
and blocked the light. She lifted her hands to cover her mouth as she waited
for the curtain to be pulled aside. But the footsteps continued on, and a
further creak was followed by more rustling. He, whoever it was, must have
gotten into the bed.

Now all she had to do was wait
him out and hope to God that whoever he was, he snored like Uncle Titus and she
could soon make her escape. The problem uppermost in her mind, though, was
where she would escape to. With each loud creak and rock of the boat, Madeleine
became more certain it was no longer moored in New Orleans.

A sneeze tickled her nose and
tears filled her eyes as she pinched her nose until it passed. A few moments
later her throat tickled and she swallowed as she fought the need to cough.
Minutes passed and her legs began to cramp again. She had pulled them beneath
her as she’d hunched against the side of the hull when the door had opened.

All was quiet and Madeleine
decided it was now or never. Perhaps he had lain with his back to the alcove?
Perhaps he had fallen asleep? She had never been overly religious but now she
sent a silent prayer heavenward.

Please, Lord, let me get out of
this situation
.
Perhaps she was being punished for pretending to drown?

Slowly and silently, she
stretched her legs, taking care not to move the blanket or the curtain. Turning
her body so that she was facing the end of the cabin where the bed was
situated, she reached for the curtain.

Madeleine closed her eyes
tightly as her fingers curled around the thin fabric and fear lodged in her
throat like a stone. She listened before she moved the curtain open a tiny
distance.

There was no sound.

Opening her eyes, she swallowed
down her trepidation and took a deep breath to fortify her courage as she
leaned to the left. She moved the curtain a little more and dropped it back
with a loud gasp as she encountered the amused stare of a bare-chested man who
was reclining on the bed with his hands tucked casually behind his head. His
gaze was fixed on her hiding place.

“Unless a ghost has taken
residence in my cabin, I presume I am looking at one supposedly drowned niece?”
His voice was deep and resonated though the cabin. Despite her predicament a
strange feeling ran through her. It was like a shiver but it was warm and
pleasant. She ignored the butterflies that were fluttering around in her chest
and forced herself to look at him again. When she met his gaze, the warm
feeling came flooding back and she cast her eyes down as she lowered her feet
slowly to the floor. She searched for her slippers. Perhaps she may yet be able
to escape the cabin but she wouldn’t get far without her slippers. There was
nothing more she could do, apart from throwing herself on his mercy.

Her slippers were nowhere to be
seen. Heat filled her cheeks as she lifted her gaze again to meet that of the
handsome man who had grinned at her as he’d swum to this very boat. The same
man whose hands had gripped her shoulders in the street just a few hours ago.
Was she destined to meet him at every turn?

Was it only a few hours ago?
It was as though she’d lived a
hundred days while she’d been hiding.

Her soft slippers dangled from
his fingertips as he pushed himself up from the bed to stand. “I presume you
are looking for these?”

He moved closer and Madeleine
tried to step away from him but the hull was already hard up against her back.
She lifted her chin and met his steady gaze. Any amusement that may have been
on his face had disappeared and his dark eyes pinned hers. She gasped as he
raised his hand, but he put it on the wall above her head as he leaned closer.

“Now, although I am very pleased
that you are not drowned, perhaps you would like to tell me what you are doing
on my boat and more particularly, why you are hiding in my cabin”

“I didn’t know it was your
cabin.” Madeleine kept her voice steady. Every horror story that Jake had told
her about sea captains, pirates, and life on board ship crowded her thoughts.
The last thing she would do was show him her fear.

She smiled and reached for her
shoes dangling by his side. “And if you would kindly give me my slippers back,
I will be out of your way and off your vessel.”

“You intend to have another
swim?” His eyes crinkled with amusement as his gaze bore into hers and she
caught her breath. She felt pinned, as though she was like one of the
butterflies that were still dancing in her stomach. But it was not fear that
she felt. Instinctively she knew he would not harm her.

“Or perhaps you never had one in
the first place?”

“What do you mean?” She shook
her head as she stared back at him, unable to pull her eyes away from his
intent gaze. She’d not taken heed of what he had been saying. All she knew was,
his voice was deep and when he spoke his words were tinged with a musical
accent which she didn’t recognize. He certainly wasn’t British and she had
heard no speech like his before. Not that she had had a vast experience in her
sheltered life back at Bellerose Hall. His accent reminded her of a French
governess who Father had employed to teach her a language when she was much
younger, but he sounded his words differently.

She tried to take another step
away from him but he lowered one hand and his fingers curled around her wrist.
She stared down at his hand. He wore a large ring on his middle finger and if
she wasn’t mistaken, it was a ruby as large as a pigeon’s egg.

“It will be very hard to leave
the
Maiden
and go ashore as we are now approximately ten miles out into
the Gulf of Mexico.”

Black lights danced behind
Madeleine’s eyes and she struggled for breath as a cold prickly feeling worked
its way from her chest to her throat. “The
Maiden
?” she croaked.

“Yes, the
Maiden
. I am
Captain Sébastien Leclerc and the
Maiden
is my vessel.”

“Sébastien Leclerc? The pirate?”
Madeleine barely had the words out when darkness consumed her and she crumpled
to the floor.