The Pirate Ruse (22 page)

Cristabel could sense the crew’s excitement. As they rowed the boats to shore, the men chuckled with mirthful anticipation—exchanged conversation concerning their delight in the prospect of seeing their loved ones. She gathered they had been at sea for much longer than was usual and were desperate for shore and family.

Then—all at once it seemed—women, children
, and a few men began to appear on the shore. They waved, calling out to the boats.

Cries of “Papa!” and “Darling!” filled the air
, and tears filled Cristabel’s eyes—for she knew the families of the crew of the
Merry Wench
were desperate to see those they so adored.

The boats were brought ashore
, and all those aboard them disembarked to be met with squeals of joy, tears, hugs, and kisses. Cristabel stood aside, smiling as she watched small children throw their arms around the necks of their privateering fathers. Wives kissed their husbands and wept. Pirates kissed their wives and children, held them with desperate embraces. It was a tender scene to witness—such rough, sea-weathered men displaying gentle, loving hearts. Upon witnessing the affectionate, loving exchanges, Cristabel was once again joyous for the sake that none of the men had been lost in the battles with the
Screaming Witch
. Tears escaped her eyes and rolled over her cheeks at the realization that, had the battles waged with different consequences, some families might have watched the
Merry Wench
’s return only to know suffering and unbearable heartache at being told a husband and father had been killed. Even James Kelley was greeted with smiles, warm embraces, and kisses, though it was obvious he had no family of his own. Once welcomed, James stood near Navarrone, smiling as a beautiful older woman owning silver-streaked, raven hair threw her arms about Navarrone’s neck.

“Oh, my darling boy!” she wept.
“You were gone so long this time…so very, very long!”

“I am sorry, Mother,” Navarrone said, holding her fast in a firm, affectionate embrace.
The woman kissed each of his cheeks and held his face between her hands, gazing into his dark eyes with boundless motherly love.

“And everyone is well?” she asked.

He nodded. “And here?” he queried. “All is well here?”

“Yes, love,” Navarrone’s mother assured him.
“The men have kept us safe and well cared for.” She smiled and caressed his cheek with the back of her hand. “How long will you stay this time, darling? Please tell me this is to be a longer stay than the last.”

“Perhaps several weeks,” he said
, “for I am weary…and have much to plan.”

“Oh!
I am glad for it!” the woman exclaimed, embracing Navarrone again. “And you, James Kelley,” she said, embracing James then. “Have you kept yourself from mischief?”

“I attempted to, Mrs. Navarrone,” James said.

The woman held James at arm
’s length a moment, smiling at him. She kissed his cheeks and giggled, “Well, that’s all we can ask for, isn’t it?”

“Yes, ma’am,” James said as she hugged him again.

The woman glanced aside and caught sight of Cristabel then. She released James and took hold of Navarrone’s hand, gasping and offering a broad smile.

“At last, Trevon!” she exclaimed.
“At last!” Cristabel was astonished when the woman suddenly threw her arms about Cristabel, embracing her. “At last you have found her!” The woman released her embrace but kept hold of Cristabel’s arms, studying her from head to toe with a purely delighted expression of approval. “She’s lovely, Trevon! Exactly what I would have expected you to choose for yourself. Are you already wed? Or have you yet to—”

“She is my prisoner, Mother,” Navarrone interrupted.

His mother’s smile faded. A frown puckered her exquisite brow.

“Your prisoner?” she asked.
“Trevon Navarrone…what mischief are you about?” She released Cristabel, and Cristabel was somehow disappointed that she did.

Navarrone sighed—raked a hand through his dark hair.
“It is a woefully long tale, Mother,” he answered. “Cannot we simply rest awhile, enjoy a meal? Then I will tell you all about it. I promise.”

Navarrone’s mother returned her attention to Cristabel.
“Have you been ill-treated in any manner, Miss…Miss…”

“Albay,” Cristabel offered.
“Cristabel Albay, ma’am.”

“Cristabel
, is it?” Navarrone’s mother inquired.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Well, I am Claire Navarrone…the mother of your apparent captor.” Cristabel smiled when the woman cast a scolding glance to Navarrone. “And I would hope that you have been treated as a lady should be treated.”

“In truth
—” Cristabel began.

Yet instantly Navarrone was upon her—at her back, pulling her against him
, his strong hand suddenly covering her mouth.

“Trevon!” his mother scolded.

Still, he kept hold of Cristabel—continued to cover her mouth with his hand. Cristabel was unsettled by the wild delight rising in her. To be held by him—even for the sake he was merely trying to silence her—it was ferociously enlivening!

“She has been treated far better than any prisoner may expect, Mother,” Navarrone said
, “especially for one who owns a tendency to be a nuisance.”

“Oh, for mercy’s sake, Trevon!
You release that young woman this minute!” Claire demanded. She stamped one foot on the sand of the shore, wagged a reprimanding index finger at her son, and repeated, “This minute!”

“Mother,” Navarrone began, “she is aligned with traitors and treason.”

Cristabel began to struggle, for she did not want the woman to think badly of her. But Navarrone held her fast.

“Traitors?” Claire gasped, frowning at Cristabel.
“She is a traitor to the country?”

“No,” Navarrone answered.
“But she holds information regarding traitors…in the least, one. Furthermore…” He paused—sighed as if resigned to some sort of defeat. “Furthermore, she is believed dead. And if it is found out she is yet living…it will not bode well for any of us.”

Claire still frowned—studied first Navarrone and then Cristabel.

“I will hear this tale, Trevon,” she announced. “Yet I know you are weary. The men need time with their families, and you and James Kelley need nourishment. Thus, I will wait to hear of it all…but only as long as it takes you to be fed.”

“Very well,” he resigned.
“Allow me a moment of respite, and I will tell you everything I know concerning this little vixen.” He removed his hand from Cristabel’s mouth, yet taking hold of her chin as he placed his mouth close to her ear. “My mother will be your companion while we’re here, love,” he told her. “But I will never be far…so do not attempt any of your usual tomfoolery.”

“Tomfoolery?” Navarrone’s mother inquired.

“Ah, yes, Mother,” Navarrone chuckled. “You’d best keep the rum hidden from Miss Cristabel Albay if you do not wish to find her tinkered up and gallivanting about in her undergarments.”

“What?” Cristabel gasped
, horrified that Navarrone would misrepresent events.

“Gallivanting in your underthings, is it?” Claire asked.
Cristabel was certain she saw a twinkle of amusement in the woman’s dark eyes. “Well, it’s no wonder Trevon has held you captive.”

“I swear to you,
madam…on my father’s grave I swear—” Cristabel began in defense of herself.

“No need to swear, darling,” Claire interrupted, however.
She looked to her son, cupping his chin in one hand. “I am certain Trevon will see to any swearing that needs doing.” Taking James’s hand, she said, “Come along, James Kelley. You’re far too thin for my liking.”

“Yes, ma’am,” James said, smiling with the gleeful anticipation of a child on Christmas morning.

Navarrone chuckled and kissed his mother on the temple.

“Come along then, love,” he said
, taking hold of Cristabel’s wrist. “I’d wager it has been a long time since you enjoyed a meal as fine as the one my mother will provide for you.”

At the thought of good food, Cristabel’s mouth did begin to water.
As she followed Navarrone into the tree line, she glanced about at the others. All were advancing to the trees or had already disappeared into the safety of their cover. The only people remaining were men who were already boarding the small boats, obviously preparing to row back to the ship. However, these men were not the crew members with whom Cristabel was familiar.

“Those are other members of
the
Merry Wench
’s crew. They stayed back to protect the families whilst we were out,” James explained. He smiled at Cristabel. “When the
Merry Wench
sets sails again, they will go with her, and some of us will be chosen to stay until she returns once more.”

Navarrone stopped
and turned to face James Kelley. “Heaven preserve us if you’re to reveal every secret we own, James,” he reprimanded, glaring at the boy.

“Sorry, Cap’n,” James said, looking like a scolded puppy.

“Here,” Navarrone said, offering Cristabel’s arm to James. “I’m weary. Lead her home, lad. You know the way.”

“Aye, Cap’n!”
James smiled at Cristabel and took hold of her arm.

Cristabel watched as Navarrone placed a strong arm about his mother’s shoulders as they walked together.
She smiled, pleased by his obvious affection for the woman.

“Them two is thick as mud,” James whispered.
“I’m grateful they treat me so well.”

“So am I, James,” Cristabel whispered, smiling at him.

James’
s smile faded, however. She watched as a wave of something akin to discouragement seemed to wash over him.

“What is it?” she asked.

“I’m sorry I led you astray, miss,” he mumbled. “I’m sorry I led you into…into sacrificing your…yourself to the cap’n for my sake.” He frowned as if puzzled. “Though I will say…your spirit, at least, don’t seem damaged.”

Cristabel’s smile broadened.
Navarrone had been correct. James’s guilt was worse punishment than a flogging might have been. She glanced ahead to where the pirate captain and his mother were steeped in conversation.

Lowering her voice
, she spoke to James, saying, “Do you feel that you know your captain well, James?”

“Aye, miss,” the lad answered.

“And you yourself told me he does not go wenching, yes?”

“Aye.”
He was puzzled, and she giggled.

“Then do you truly think he would despoil me, simply as punishment…simply to be cruel?”

James thought a moment. Cristabel watched as understanding caused an expression of pure delight to capture his features.

“No, miss!” he exclaimed in a whisper.
“Indeed, I do not think him capable of it.”

Cristabel giggled again.
“Then you have proven you do indeed know him well. For I am as unharmed as I was when first he found me on board the
Screaming Witch
.”

“Oh!” James sighed, placing his free hand on his chest in a gesture of profound relief.
“Oh, miss, I am so comforted. I have been having nightmares…carrying such awful and burdensome guilt.”

“I know,” she said.
“It was to be your punishment…finding no respite from the matter.”

“I understand,” he said.
He shook his head with admiration, saying, “Cap’n Navarrone is a wise man indeed…for I might well have endured less pain under the lash of the cat.” He chuckled. “At least less pain of the mind.”

“Yet this must be our secret
, James,” she whispered. “I could not allow you to linger in misery, but I owe Captain Navarrone my life…just as you felt you owed me yours. But you are young and—”

“And still learning from my own mistakes, miss,” James finished for her.

“We are both young and still learning,” Cristabel offered.

“It’s like Cap’n Navarrone is always telling me
. One decision—”

“Can change the entire course of a life,” she finished.

“Yes, miss,” James chuckled.

“She is our prisoner, James,” Navarrone growled, glancing back over one broad shoulder
, “not our court jester.”

“Aye, Cap’n,” James called.

Navarrone shook his head with frustration—raked a strong hand through his dark hair.

Cristabel bit her lip to keep from giggling as she exchanged amused glances with James Kelley.

“You’re our prisoner, miss,” James whispered, “not a court jester.”

Cristabel covered her mouth to stop the laughter bubbling in her throat from escaping.

“James Kelley!” Navarrone bellowed.

“Aye, Cap’n.
My apologies,” James said.

They stepped into a clearing then.
Cristabel gasped as she saw the wondrous vision that greeted them. There, built into the limbs of an ancient and enormous bald cypress tree, was a vast and finely crafted tree house. Looking quite like a large brown gazebo with shutters, the house’s center was founded around the tree’s massive trunk. A smaller enclosure, looking the exact miniature of the first, was poised just above its counterpart. It was obvious that the shutters, though propped up and open in that moment, could be lowered and fastened in cases of inclement weather. Yet for all its functionality, the pure craftsmanship and enchanting nature of the tree house fairly took Cristabel’s breath away.