The Ransom (32 page)

It never came.

It should have come, for it had been a successful raid. Very successful, indeed. They’d captured a Spanish merchantman headed for Santo Domingo loaded with spices from the Orient, fine china, silk tapestries, silverware, and best of all, a chest of rare gems. All of which they had traded in Tortuga for pieces of eight, along with the ship itself. No sense in returning to Port Royal loaded with plunder that would give Nichols cause to search Alex’s brig. He supposed, due to the hostilities with France, he should acquire a commission to privateer from the Jamaican Council and do away with his illegal trade. But where would the fun be in that?

The brig dove, sending water over the bow. Sea foam snaked about his boots. Alex snorted. Staying one step ahead of Captain Nincompoop offered no challenge at all. At the very least the man should try harder, seek advice from more intellectually-endowed men, in order to hatch a plan that would not bore Alex to his grave. Lud, was there no one who could surprise him?

Visions of Miss Juliana Dutton filled his mind. As they so often had these past three weeks. He missed her. Terribly. Which surprised him. But why should it? Everything about her surprised him. He hoped she fared well in his absence. He hoped she hadn’t visited Miss Abilene alone. And with the pearls returned, he hoped her shipping business thrived.

All questions that had prompted him to tack the
Vanity
about and head home. Another question that had burned on his mind since they’d left Port Royal was why information about the shipping date and cargo of one of Miss Juliana’s merchant brigs had been on the lips of every shop owner, tavern keeper, and hooligan in town. The
Esther’s Dowry
should have set sail yesterday, in fact, from Port Royal to the American colonies. Local wealthy plantation owners, Mr. and Mrs. Gerald Hornspike were listed as passengers, bearing a chest full of coins meant as a dowry for their eldest daughter in Boston. Information neither a merchant nor a shipping company would want leaked to every greedy sot in town.

Alex guessed it to be the workings of Captain Nincompoop.

But what the scatter-wit didn’t realize—or mayhap didn’t care—was that in his paltry efforts to capture Alex, he’d alerted half the pirates in Port Royal, especially those clumsy sluggards who sought an easy prize. None of them would attempt to approach the
Esther’s Dowry
until she was at least a day’s journey from port. And by Alex’s calculations, they should be upon her general position any time now.

Larkin appeared beside him. “We should arrive in Port Royal by tomorrow evening, Captain.”

Alex nodded, staring out over the expanse of glittering turquoise, then up at the sun atop their heads. “Maintain course.”

The sailing master hesitated, then crossed arms over his chest. “But why go back to Port Royal? We are well supplied from our stop in Tortuga. No one is injured, and the men are itching for another prize, Captain.”

“They’ll get another prize soon enough.”

Sails thundered overhead. Larkin’s jaw tightened. “The crew will not be pleased.”

The brig pitched over a wave, and Alex braced his boots on the deck as seawater sprayed them. He was glad for the cooling effect on his rising temper. He turned to Larkin and eyed him curiously, wondering why his one-time friend seemed to defy him at every turn. “They know who brings them their prizes. As do
you
. If any are dissatisfied, they are free to join another captain.”

Wind whipped Larkin’s dark hair into his eyes. He snapped it away as a tight smile strung upon his lips. “Of course, Captain.”

Something in the man’s expression irked Alex, reminding him of a similar expression he’d born when Alex had demanded the man turn over a piece of treasure from the Spanish merchantman. “You didn’t keep that silk tapestry from Madrid you were salivating over?”

Larkin kept his face to the wind, his jaw flexing. “Would I disobey my captain?”

Alex feared the answer to that was a definite yes. Especially when it came to something Larkin had taken a particular fancy to. The tapestry was small, old, and not extremely valuable, but Alex’s crew was forbidden to keep any treasure not divided equally among them. Doing so was punishable by death. Not to mention, Alex must have nothing on board that would implicate them in piracy.

Larkin had not hidden his anger at Alex’s command to sell it along with the other goods.

A call came down from the tops. “A sail. A sail!”

Plucking the scope from his belt, Alex leveled it on the horizon and was about to ask the direction, when another call came down. “Two sets of sails. Two sets!”

Which meant there was either a convoy or one ship pursued the other.

He shifted the glass until the tall masts and bloated sails of a ship came in sight. No, a brig, a merchant brig. And the other one a smaller ship, a sloop most likely. Turning, he marched across the foredeck and leapt into the waist, Larkin on his heels.

“Step lively, men! I want every stitch of canvas spread!” Alex turned to Larkin. “Bring us to windward of them, if you please.”

“To windward, Captain.” Larkin faced the crew. “Lay aloft, topmen! Man top halliards and sheets! Let fall main and fore-topsails!”

Pirates flung into the shrouds, scrambling aloft, and soon all sails caught the stiff breeze in a thunderous snap. Hauled to the wind, the
Vanity
tacked toward the ships. Blocks creaked and sails rattled as the brig rose and swooped through the foamy sea. Alex took his position on the quarterdeck by the helm, scope pressed to his eye to survey the oncoming ships.

An hour later, with all sails glutted and black squalls crashing over the bow, Alex could make out the Dutton Shipping ensign as well as the name
Esther’s Dowry
painted in red on the hull of the first ship. The poor merchant captain marched across the deck in a frenzy, barking orders to a crew that darted about like ants whose hill had been stepped on. Fast pursuing on his stern,
The Sea King
bore down upon her
,
captained by that heartless toad Snead, whose lack of intelligence was only exceeded by his girth.

Jonas appeared from below, where he’d been keeping accounts of the divided treasure from their last prize. He slipped beside Alex and gripped the railing, refusing to look his way. He didn’t have to. Alex could feel his disapproval from where he stood. Sunlight glinted red streaks in Jonas’s light hair as the wind tore strands from its tie.

Alex grew impatient. “Well?”

“Well what, Captain?”

“Surely you have some opinion you wish to lavish upon me.”

The ship bucked, and Jonas gripped the railing tighter. “Only that you are, yet again, plundering your own countryman’s goods, I see.”

“Things are not always what they seem, my friend.” Turning, Alex scanned the main deck for Bait, his master gunner. “Bait! Ready the gun crew! Clean the tackles and load and run out the guns!”

The large Negro saluted with his one remaining hand and lumbered off.

Larkin approached, greedily eyeing their prey. “Seems we aren’t the only ones interested in capturing this rare prize. Swounds! The
Sea King
will get to her first!”

Indeed. Alex stared at the
Esther’s Dowry,
who now lowered sails in a sign of surrender. With nary a shot fired! No doubt the poor captain assumed he faced two pirates instead of one. The
Sea King
also lowered sails and would be alongside the merchantman in minutes.

“Orders?” Larkin said, his tone both angry and excited.

Jonas shot Alex an incriminating glance. “Be done with this pirating and let’s be away, Captain.”

Ignoring him, Alex slapped the spyglass against his palm. “Let us inform our dear friend Captain Snead that he has trespassed onto our hunting grounds, shall we? Lower fore and main. Bring her in slow under tops,” he ordered Larkin before moving to the quarterdeck railing and shouted down at his master gunner. “Bait, a warning shot over the pirate’s bow when you have it.”

“Aye, aye, Cap’n.”

“I see, Captain! Get rid of the competition, and we shall take the spoil.” Larkin flashed delighted brows at Alex before he began spouting orders to the crew.

Alex didn’t inform him that they’d take no spoil today.

Within minutes a thunderous boom etched across the sky and quaked the ship from bow to stern. Gunpowder stung Alex’s nose as he peered through the gray smoke. Would the inbred captain heed the warning? Surely he’d spotted the Pirate Earl’s flag. Not many would dare cross a man whose reputation at sea battle was the talk of Port Royal. Besides, Alex wouldn’t mind a joust with one of his own. He’d been battling merchants far too long and could use a challenge.

But true to form, Captain Snead withdrew like the coward he was. After staring at Alex through his glass for what seemed like an eternity, he turned and stomped across his deck like an obese duck, all the while barking orders to his crew that sent them flinging aloft. Soon, with all sails to the wind, he tacked aweather, flashing Alex his stern as he tucked tail and ran.

Alex was about to bellow orders to put the helm over and leave the
Esther’s Dowry
behind, when another shout came from above. “A third sail!”

White canvas gleaming in the afternoon sun, a Royal Navy frigate, blue-and-white flag flapping from the masthead, dipped and plunged toward them, a mustache of foam spread across her bow.

Alex gripped the railing and shared a glance with Jonas.

“Nichols,” they both said at once.

“We can take the merchant before he arrives,” Larkin shouted up from the main deck.

Alex eyed the frigate. Aye, he agreed. They’d have to be quick about it, but they could do it. And if it were any other merchantman, he’d welcome the thrill of trying. But not Miss Juliana’s brig. Before Alex could issue the command to turn to starboard, Larkin’s voice thundered from below. “Arm yourselves, men. We’ve another prize to take!”

“Nay, belay that order!” Alex approached the railing, hands fisted on his hips, giving Larkin the full measure of an angry glare.

His crew, an assortment of slovenly, foul-mouthed men, stood on the main deck with greedy grins that soon turned to frowns as their gazes shifted between him and Larkin.

“We’ve enough spoils for now,” Alex shouted above the wind. “What say you we go home and spend our wealth?”

This did not elicit the “ayes” and “huzzahs” he’d hoped for. Instead, a couple of the men spit on the deck. Others stared longingly at the merchant brig—which quickly raised sails in an effort to escape the remaining pirate—while a few glared at Alex as if they intended to hack him to pieces.

“I says we take ’er, Cap’n!” one man shouted.

“Aye! Aye! She’s easy pickin’s!”

“I say we put it to a vote.” Larkin’s eyes turned narrow and cold. “As is the crew’s prerogative.”

A grumbling of ascent waved through the crowd.

Larkin was right, blast him. It wasn’t purely Alex’s decision—not according to the articles they’d signed. As he saw it, he had two choices. Steal from the woman he loved and thereby aid in ruining her forever. Or risk a mutiny in which he’d most likely end up dead.

Chapter 26

“It’s a trap, you flea-infested toads! Can’t you see that?” Jonas stepped forward and gripped the quarterdeck railing, gazing down upon the crew. “That ship”—he pointed to the sails growing larger on the horizon—“is a Royal Navy frigate. And she’s just waiting for us to capture the British merchantman so she can haul us in and string us up. Our captain here is attempting to save your worthless necks.”

Some of the men rubbed their throats at the declaration while Alex gave Jonas a nod of thanks.

“But ye ain’t never run from no Navy ship afore!”

“Aye, an’ we’s got time!”

“Are you as daft as you look?” Jonas bellowed. “The Navy will witness the crime and give chase. And when they catch us, you’ll forfeit every last piece-of-eight you earned from our last prize.”

This seemed to get some of their miniscule brains thinking.

“But ain’t no Navy ship fast enough to catch the Pirate Earl!” Cheers and fists thrust into the air, making Alex proud of his crew’s confidence in him. Though he wished they had less at the moment.

Larkin leapt onto the quarterdeck ladder and glanced over the men. “We chased off that toad, Snead, and I say we claim our prize!”

Roars of agreement followed.

“Unless you’ve gone yellow-bellied, Captain?” Larkin sneered at Alex.

And just like a fickle female, the crew spit and cursed their agreement.

Alex gave Larkin a smoldering look. How could his friend defy him so vehemently in front of the crew? And why was he gripping the hilt of his sword as if he would draw on Alex any moment?

Alex glanced down upon his men, most of whom were scowling his way. He roared above wind and wave, “This yellow-bellied captain has kept you all alive and swimming in gold. And you dare defy me now? I make no doubt Mr. Larkin is a great orator, but so is the Devil, and both will send you straight to hell.”