Fortune's Flames (31 page)

Horben smiled and licked his lips as he envisioned
Maren under his control. “Damnation, I hope she’s guilty.”

They both laughed, then Eric said, “You’re my best friend and you’ve stuck by me for years. I know how badly you want her. Even if she’s innocent, I’ll let you have her once a week, drugged of course.”

Horben smiled at Eric and then clasped his hand because he knew Eric was telling the truth. “In that case, I hope she’s innocent,” Horben said.

“Me, too, Ben. She’ll make us a perfect wife.”

Friday afternoon in the mid-Atlantic, Jared and Maren were nestled together in his bed. Jared had been on deck since five o’clock yesterday, but he had finally come down to rest and sleep. Despite his exhaustion a hunger for his wife had kept him from rest. He had asked her to undress and join him for a while, and she had eagerly agreed. They had sighted a few ships, but always at too great a distance to be a threat, and since Jared knew his men were on constant alert, he felt safe in stealing a few hours with Maren.

As he removed his boots and garments, Jared asserted, “I hate to admit it, or even to think it, but I believe Dan Myers is involved with Eric or his cohorts. I keep recalling indications I didn’t grasp at the time. As soon as Evelyn was exposed to him, she became a threat, and she was slain. Then Heath died mysteriously. Dan was angry about the attacks on you, so those two must have been overstepping their
orders. I think he moved out of the house to throw suspicion off himself, but the incidents those two created kept pointing the finger at him. So he got rid of them.”

“He was my father’s friend. Why would he betray us, Jared?”

Jared lay down beside her and clasped her naked body to his. “I recall the way he looked and sounded when he talked about Lady Luck, and how nervous he was that day we searched Eric’s home. Remember how relieved he seemed when we didn’t find anything there?” Maren nodded and snuggled closer. “Dan loves that place. Maybe Eric offered him a share in it for his aid. The trouble started after my arrival, so maybe Dan thought we wouldn’t want him there anymore and he’d be pushed out.”

“But we wouldn’t have done that, Jared. He’s a good manager, and we need him. Doesn’t he realize how much we liked him and trusted him?”

Jared sighed heavily, from fatigue and disappointment. “Perhaps he was already in too deep by then. I believe he suddenly started romancing Mary Malone to entice her to spy on us for him, just in case we doubted him.”

Maren revealed the housekeeper’s distrust of Jared and her warnings about him. “I didn’t want to tell you because I knew she was wrong and it would hurt you. Possibly Dan planted those ideas in her mind, so he could create a breach between us.”

“Yet she never swayed your faith in me. I love you, Maren Morgan,” Jared vowed huskily, then covered
her mouth with his.

Thoughts of Dan, and of all other matters, were quickly lost as passion seized them and carried them far away. They made love urgently, yet savored every minute of their time together. Then Maren held Jared in her arms while he slept, and she prayed for peace.

Eleven more days passed, the sea remaining calm and no hostile ships being sighted, and Maren and Jared drew closer and closer to each other and to their destination. On the twelfth day after they’d voiced their suspicions of Dan—the twenty-fourth day of their voyage—trouble came to them. A large British ship bore down on the
Sea Mist,
determined to attack.

Maren watched the enemy ship become larger and more menacing as it sailed rapidly toward their larboard side, the wind in its favor. Clouds filled the sky, and she feared a violent storm was brewing. The brisk breeze caused the canvas to whip and pop loudly, as if protesting this duel of powers. She heard the order to clap on more sail, but the British ship kept coming, closer and closer. Then, as if the elements were working in America’s favor, the waves and winds rose higher. Spindrift gathered on the sails, and when struck by intermittent sun, it glittered like tiny lights. Whitecaps slapped against the ship’s hull, and the smell of salt air and of impending conflict filled everyone’s nostrils. The crew readied themselves for the attack, and for
confronting death.

Meanwhile the British ship crowded on the sail and sped toward them, seeming to glide across the water’s surface as if she were skating on an unevenly frozen pond. Jared kept his ship on course because his mission was vital and he did not have time to battle this persistent and arrogant foe. He ordered the pirate flat hoisted, indicating no quarter if overtaken, but the British ship held to her course. When she neared firing range, she sent a warning shot at the
Sea Mist.

Jared did not reply to it. He hoped the British captain would give up his pursuit. But the
Sea Mist’s
crew swarmed over the decks and riggings, making certain their vessel was well prepared to defeat this foe. As the distance between the ships diminished, Nature became more tempestuous, and both ships were forced to reduce sail and slacken speed to achieve control. The challenge that had been given was now reluctantly accepted.

The British ship fired another round, which came closer to striking the
Sea Mist.
It was apparent that Jared’s ship had been recognized, for the enemy did not wait for the
Sea Mist
to hoist a nation’s flag or surrender. The British guns spit forth another volley, and within minutes the two vessels were sailing at each other head-on to test their captain’s courage and skills. The British ship was larger and boasted more firepower, but Jared was the best commander and his sleek ship was easier to handle. Jared ordered his crew to open fire on their attacker and to continue
firing as quickly as the guns could be reloaded.

The enemy ship did the same, and soon thunderous cannonfire and acrid smoke permeated the air. The
Sea Mist
delivered a stunning blast to the broadside of the other ship, raking her foe with expertise, and as the desperate battle continued, Jared maneuvered his ship so deftly that three staggering blasts of double shot hit the British ship. Her mizzenmast and foremast were hit, leaving only the mainmast; and much of her rigging was destroyed, while Jared’s ship had received little damage.

Eventually the British guns became silent, and the ship floated aimlessly on the waves. Jared knew this was not a trick to lure him in closer; the other ship was crippled. He ordered grappling hooks be readied, intending to board her and search for papers and impressed Americans.

Though Maren covered her ears to shut out the screams of wounded men, she could smell the smoke from the fires aboard the other ship, and she wondered if they could be controlled. If not… Her heart pounded anxiously as she tried to imagine what Captain Hawk would do with the enemy ship and its defeated crew. She wanted to rush topside and beg him to show mercy, but she knew she must not interfere.

Time seemed to move slower than a snail. Finally, she realized the
Sea Mist
was drifting away from the other ship. She waited, eyes closed and pulse racing, to see if Jared ordered the ship blasted into the
depths of the ocean, and she prayed, harder than she had ever prayed, that he would not kill helpless prisoners.

Suddenly the cabin door opened, and Maren whirled about.

“I thought you might want to see this British prisoner and speak with him,” Jared said.

“Bart? Barton Hughes?” she asked incredulously.

“Maren James?” the man replied, equally astonished.

She and Bart rushed toward each other excitedly, and they hugged and laughed. Then Bart grasped her forearms gently and held her away from him to eye her. “You look wonderful, Maren. Lordy, it’s great to be free again, thanks to Captain Hawk. What are you doing here?” As if he suddenly became aware of his unkempt state, an embarrassed expression crossed his face and he apologized before she could explain her presence. “Please excuse my sorry appearance. The British don’t treat prisoners well. I hope Captain Hawk will provide me with some clean garments and will allow his barber to cut my hair and give me a shave.” He ruffled his unkempt hair and rubbed his bearded face as he spoke.

Maren had studied Barton Hughes quickly because
she did not want to make him undergo an impolite scrutiny. Lilibeth’s fiancé had always taken great care with his appearance, and it obviously dismayed him to look so dirty and maltreated. His face and arms, pale from a Jack of sunshine, were bruised and soiled. His midnight black hair was oily and shaggy; it fell into his haggard face and grazed his shoulders. He had not shaved for several weeks. He was clad in a short-sleeved sailor shirt and dark trousers which were wrinkled and dirty. His clothing hung loosely on his gaunt frame. Maren did not have to be told he had endured physical and emotional torment, his eyes revealed his suffering.

She stroked his cheek comfortingly and smiled. “Don’t you worry, Bart; we’ll have you fat and sassy within a week or two. What were you doing on that ship? Beth told me you were fighting near Maine.”

“You’ve seen her?” he asked anxiously. “How is she?” His greenish blue eyes had brightened at the mention of Beth.

Maren related all she knew about Bart’s love, even the jests Beth had made about going after her fiancé, and joy filled Bart’s eyes as he admitted, “Lordy, I’ve been lonely and miserable without her. War is hellish, Maren, worse than I ever imagined. I thought it would be settled in a few months, but it’s been years, terrible years.”

“When was the last time you contacted Beth?”

“Right before I was captured and put to work as a slave on that British ship, around the end of May. I hope she got my letter in early June and hasn’t been
too worried. As soon as it’s possible, will you help me get a message to her?” he asked Jared.

“We’ll be heading back to America after we sail from France,” Jared replied, “so it shouldn’t be too long, Bart. When we reach Washington, you can either find another ship there or stay with us. I have to stop in Savannah to drop Maren off at my home; then I plan to go to New Orleans.”

Bart looked from Jared to Maren. “Am I missing something here? I thought you were living in London now.”

Maren didn’t know how much to reveal, so she was glad when Jared’s arm encircled her waist and he said, “Maren decided to marry me instead of Daniel Redford. We took our vows on July tenth, but we’ve kept our marriage quiet because of my mission. If you get back to New Orleans before we do, I’d appreciate it if you guard our little secret because we’ve had some trouble with Maren’s cousin and his hirelings.”

“Congratulations and best wishes, but what kind of trouble?” Bart asked.

Jared gave him a partial explanation of Eric James’s takeover of Cameron James’s holdings after the older man’s death. “Maren and I own Lady Luck together,” he added, “but he wants that too. He hired ruffians to frighten us out. When I had to sail on this mission, I couldn’t leave her there because accidents kept happening to her, and several suspicious characters were killed.”

“I’ve only met Eric James on a few occasions, but I
didn’t care for him. During his visits to New Orleans, he approached me several times about some unsavory deals, and he was vexed because I refused them.” Bart glanced at Maren and said, “I’m sorry about your father, Maren; he was a good man. Why are you heading for France? Isn’t that kind of dangerous?”

Jared responded, “We’ve learned that Eric James is pretending to work for three countries, and he’s taking money from each one. He’s supposed to pick up a gold shipment in Marseilles, from Napoleon and his loyalists, to help us battle the Brits, but we’re hoping to beat him there and claim it. As far as I know, he’s a week or so behind us. That’s why I didn’t want to stop to fight that ship.”

“I’m glad you did,” Bart declared with relief.

“So are we. It must have been Fate,” Maren told him.

Bart’s eyes were troubled when he spoke again. “Yes, it must have been Fate, Maren, because you’re heading for trouble if you sail for Washington after you leave France. Within the next two weeks, the British are plotting to attack it along with a number of major cities. They intend to shell all the leading ports, and burn the shipyards. We prisoners were kept in an area where we could hear what was going on at the officers’ meetings, and they had plenty of them aboard in the last two months. I’ve heard plans which turned my guts inside out. I hope some American agent has uncovered those schemes and our country is preparing to thwart them, because we could never make it back in time to alert the
President, not even if we turned around this very minute. You and I must talk, Jared, but I would like to clean up first.” Bart pushed his ebony hair away from his face, and he prayed he did not smell as badly as he thought he did.

Jared nodded in understanding. “I’ll have my cabin man, Jacob Tarver, help you with a bath and a shave; then he can cut your hair and get you a decent meal. Kip’s finding places for you and the others to bunk, and since we’re about the same size, I’ll locate something for you to wear. We can’t get back in time to warn of the attacks, so I suggest you rest today. We can talk over dinner tomorrow. There’s an American agent aboard that I’d like you to meet. You can tell him what you’ve learned when he and Kip join us for dinner tomorrow night. We’ll reach Marseilles in about a week, so we’re going to go over our strategy again. Later you can talk with Maren about Beth.”

After Bart left with Jacob Tarver, Maren hugged her husband and thanked him for showing mercy to their enemies.

“So many of them were dead or wounded that I didn’t see any need to sink a crippled ship,” he replied. “It isn’t going anywhere and it can’t be repaired. All they can do is tend their injured, bury their dead, and hope for rescue. Not many of those men will heal soon enough to fight us again. But I have to get you home as quickly as I can; that could have been us. We’re lucky we didn’t have more than one ship after us.”

“Fate, Jared Morgan, we’re fated to survive and
be together.”

“Fate’s like luck, Mrs. Morgan, sometimes it needs a helping hand.”

“As long as it’s your talented hand doing the helping, my love.” Maren’s golden brown eyes danced enticingly.

Jared’s blood was already fired by his recent victory. Compelling emotions surged through a man before, during, and after battle, but now, he burned with the desire Maren kindled in him. It was early afternoon and he should return to duty for there might be more British ships in this area. Still, the conflict had been won so easily he had not expended all of his energy, his tension. He knew that his crew was scrubbing up and doing repairs while the freed men were eating, cleaning up, and resting. He walked to his door and hesitated only a moment before bolting it. As he turned, Maren was already unfastening her clothing, and a seductive smile teased her lips.

He came forward and halted her movements. “You read me like a map, my apt student. Let me do it,” he coaxed huskily, for he enjoyed this disrobing task which enflamed them both.

Maren relaxed as Jared lifted her dress over her head and tossed it aside. After untying her petticoat, wriggling it over her hips, and slipping it past her ankles, he knelt to remove her slippers. He stroked her silky thighs and calves as he playfully rolled her stockings down her legs. He then kissed her knees,
trailed his lips down her left leg, and nuzzled her dainty foot against his cheek. To balance herself, Maren rested her fingertips on his shoulders. But when his hands traveled up her body slowly and sensuously as he rose, hers slid down to his chest.

Jared deftly unlaced her chemise and removed it. His smoldering gaze roaming her flawless face, now flushed with passion and need, before it seared over her naked shoulders and came to rest on those enticing mounds which had risen with desire. He fondled her breasts lightly, leisurely, lovingly, his thumbs and forefingers trapping the two buds between them and gently kneading them until they grew larger and harder. Then his lips and tongue moistened the peaks, tantalized them, made them plead for more attention.

As Jared’s mouth worked stirringly at her breasts, his hands artfully caressed her shoulders, arms, and back. Maren was now as sultry as a summer day, but her fragrance was as fresh as that of early morn. Even the cotton which grew on his plantation was not as soft as her body, nor were the horses he reared as sleek. She was splendid, she was temptation, she was perfection. His strong fingers roved her satiny texture, causing her to tingle all over. Then Jared briefly halted his provocative behavior to remove her remaining garment. As he cast it aside, his eyes took in the woman he loved, from her toes to the tip of her dark brown head. His tawny gaze fused with her golden brown one as his hands moved around her
softly rounded hips to capture her firm buttocks. He pressed her bare groin against his clothed one and fondled her derrière, then his lips sought hers.

Maren felt the heat radiating from his manly region to her feminine one, and she was highly aroused. She wanted to titillate him to an even higher level of desire, so she pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it onto a nearby table. Then her fingernails carefully grazed his golden flesh and she spread kisses over Jared’s torso as she sank to the floor. She grinned wickedly as she carefully removed his ebony boots, but comically flung his stockings away. Then, rising to her knees, she unbuckled his belt and drew it from his waist before urging his breeches down over narrow hips and muscled thighs. When he stepped out of
them,
she tossed them upon the table as well.

For a moment she greedily took in his magnificent physique before she bent forward and pressed kisses to his most sensitive region. As her lips covered it, she gave him a blissful pleasure much like the pleasure he had given her on several occasions since this voyage had begun. She felt him stiffen and heard his loud inhalation. When he shuddered and moaned, she knew he was both surprised and pleased. His response was gratifying and stimulating. She massaged his firm buttocks with her fingers before slipping them around to caress his moist and fiery shaft.

For a time, reality fled them. Then Jared lifted her and placed her on the bed. Their mouths fused greedily, their hands explored eagerly. With both
appetites fully whetted, their bodies joined and they made love urgently and rapturously.

On the following Wednesday, the twenty-fourth of August, the British stormed Washington and burned many buildings, including the Capitol and the White House. The second stage of their threepronged attack on the United States was also underway: invasion via Chesapeake Bay, Lake Champlain, and the Mississippi River. The British would claim that the burning of Washington was in retaliation for the American assault on York in July. Barracks had been burned there as had storehouses and eleven ships. But the Americans had not been trying to conquer Canada, only to hold the Niagara line. Now more trouble was brewing because the end of the European conflict would allow more and more British to pour into that area and into others. And in Belgium peace was being discussed, although the British were stalling the talks to gain an advantage.

The following Friday, on the eastern shore of the Gulf of Lions, the
Sea Mist
docked at the chief Mediterranean seaport of France. Marseilles was a city of many businesses: soap making, metal foundries, tile and brick works, shipyards, glass factories, and much more. They had sailed past several islands which were fortified to protect the harbor. Marseilles was the oldest city in France, rich in history and
almost as large as Paris.

Maren Morgan was ready for her role in this impending drama, and exhilarating but perilous one. She had donned a white batiste gown in the Empire style. She was wearing the ruby and gold necklace which belonged to Josephine, wife of Napoleon. Her hair was gathered into an upswept style, but short curls dangled around her face and the nape of her neck.

As she stepped onto the dock, opened her parasol, and took her husband’s arm, Jared admired her beauty and smiled at her. Maren returned his smile, then silently prayed for success. With luck, Eric had not uncovered their plans, had not beaten them to Marseilles.

Five men followed them, but not too closely: Harry Epps, Simon Carter, Kerry Osgood, Barton Hughes, and Peter Thomas. Jared had wanted to bring along Davy Douglas because he was quick and alert and a superb fighter, but an expert steersman was too valuable to endanger.

They made their way to the soap factory which was being used as a meeting place for loyalists and as a storage depot for supplies being gathered for Napoleon’s next strike. In fluent French, Maren asked to see Antoine Gallier, and they were shown to his office. After they were seated, she introduced herself as Maren James, Eric’s first cousin and his substitute. She told the Frenchman that Eric had broken a leg and could not make the journey at this time, taking that story from one of Eric’s lies. She introduced
Jared as Captain Hawk and Kip as his firstmate.

As she fingered the necklace, she spoke the first line of the code, “American blood is running as red as these rubies, Monsieur Gallier. If possible, I would trade them for peace.”

The Frenchman eyed Maren and Jared intensely, but did not respond correctly. “It is a pleasure to have you here, Miss James, and an honor to meet a real hero, Captain Hawk.”

Maren translated for Jared and continued in the man’s language, “Peace could be entrusted to no safer hands than Captain Hawk’s. When I was asked to come here, I naturally chose him as my escort.”