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Authors: Elizabeth St. Michel

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BOOK: The Winds of Fate
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“His splendid wit made the evening pass with amusement,” concurred Jane.

Jarvis thumped his fist on the table, using his innate sense of drama to call attention to himself. “I’d still like to know how he got off this island.” He glared at Claire. “Gold exchanged hands somewhere.”

Claire sat nonplussed. “Although I do not condone piracy, he saved us that horrid night a year ago. If I had the gold, I would have given it to him.” Claire wanted to bite her tongue championing, Devon. Her uncle infuriated her. Jarvis’s investigation into the escape of his slaves stood based on presumption and he held onto his vindictive memory like a shark with prey meshed in its jaws. The fact that Devon had come
to her rescue the night of the Spanish raid at peril to his escape and freedom was selfless. She had seen his compassion in his practice as a physician. Yet everything she had heard about Devon in the last year seemed at odds with what she had known about him.

“He was a slippery fellow. Seemed to be everywhere that night,” Jarvis maintained. “The rascal burned down a huge chunk of my plantation.”

“The Spanish torched the plantation,” Claire reminded him.

“The man is like his reputation,” Governor Stark snapped his fingers for emphasis. “He can disappear like a wraith through thin air.”

“I for one discount this nonsense. Everyone in the Caribbean is talking,” Jarvis grumbled.

“And why not?” said Captain Smith. “His exploits are legendary. Doesn’t his fame run like ripples before the breeze across the Caribbean Sea? All the heads of Europe are betwixt and between about his activities, yet underneath there is secret admiration.”

“Bah! What about that French pirate? Jarvis snarled. “Is not Le Trompeur the curse of the Caribbean, the greatest scoundrel among the Brethren of the Coast? Is he not the deadliest with the sword, trained under French masters? I’d pay good gold to see the Frenchman plant his sword tip through Blackmon’s heart. As for myself, the gibbet is high and hungry. I would love to see the Black Devil dance as he hangs.”

“I doubt that will occur,” said Governor Stark. “Blackmon and Le Trompeur belong to the brotherhood, a pact between the two rascals, agreeing to back each other up. A very powerful alliance. The governor from Tortuga gives his rubber stamp on their union.”

“And the Governor of Tortuga is as much a pirate as those blackguards, giving them safe-haven in his private Sodom and Gomorrah,” spat Jarvis.

Jane put her nose in the air. “I can say, Sir Jarvis, Captain Blackmon’s code of conduct was nothing but benevolent and gracious. He saved our lives and treated us with dignity and respect. For that we are grateful.”

“He was so handsome and romantic. He gave us back our jewels, saying we were too pretty to be without them,” Grace sighed.

Claire dropped her teacup. “Of course, I am sure he woos every woman when given the chance.” She was not surprised by the silver-tongued devil’s flattery. Had she not been a recipient of his fawning as well?

Lady Morton slanted her eyes to Claire. “Do you know of him perchance?”

Governor Stark laughed. “She owned him.”

Claire’s heart sank. All three women and Captain Smith turned to her, their eyebrows raised. Heat rose to her face. “I-I took pity on him when I saw him auctioned on the dock and because−he was at odds with my uncle that day, I decided to intervene.”

“Praise providence. For if you had not done that, our fate would have been dire,” said Lady Morton.

Claire glanced at Jarvis who stewed with hatred of his escaped slave.

“I understand the Black Devil thanks his victims for their contributions,” commented Mary. “Very polite. A gentleman pirate they say.”

“It is true. Women swoon at his name. He thanked me for my ship’s contents,” said Captain Smith.

“The thieving dog.” Jarvis turned on the captain. “Are you sure your adulation of this miscreant is not misplaced?”

“Since my life and the lives of the ladies and my crew had been saved from those Spanish devils, I consider myself ahead,” said Captain Smith, undeterred. “From what I have learned when the Black Devil captures a ship, he takes its contents. If there are Englishmen aboard, they’ll be put upon an island where they’ll be picked up by English ships. Women at risk are dropped off at a port. I should mention these same Spanish pirates that attacked us hit an English merchantman six months ago. All the men but one survived to tell the tale. Three women who had the misfortune of being aboard suffered a brutality I cannot describe. They died.”

“Mother of God.” Lady Morton crossed herself.

“What I find most remarkable about Captain Blackmon,” continued Captain Smith “is that he has numerous experienced seamen on board. Many had served on Men-O-War as well as merchant ships. I had an interesting conversation with his navigator.”

“His navigator?” Lily asked. “Was his name Robert Ames?”

“Why yes. Very nice officer. Took the time to show me about. A real gentleman. Son of an Earl. Bad business what happened to him with Monmouth. He sided with the Duke against the King and was imprisoned.”

“Is he-is he in good health?” Lily waited, her lips trembled.

“Very good health, Miss. Do you know him?”

“I-I worked with him in the hospital during the plague. It was our only acquaintance.” She fell back into her chair.

“I believe our Black Devil is a very wealthy man,” said Captain Smith. “Some say his treasure is buried somewhere in the Caribbean. It is said he has a secret uncharted island he won in a turn of the cards. As the story goes, his opponent didn’t see eye to eye. A sword fight erupted. Captain Blackmon won. Some say there was also a woman involved, but who knows.” He shrugged. “The legend adds to his mystery.”

“You bleat with the fanciful musings of a woman,” scorned Jarvis.

“Nevertheless,” said the sea captain, steadfast from insult by a peer of the realm when his admiration held for a sole pirate captain. “I understand he was a doctor as well. An interesting combination. A pirate and a man of letters.”

“He was a very good doctor,” admitted the Governor. “And I have suffered with my rheumatism since his departure.”

Lady Morton stirred cream into her tea, “One of the crew members believes the Black Devil named his ship, the
Sea Scorpion
for a woman.”

“How romantic,” said Grace, clasping her hands to her bosom. “To be named for a ship by such a man.”

“It’s an odd name for a woman,” scoffed Claire.

“I thought so too.” Lady Morton held her head high. “However, I love a mystery, and Captain Blackmon, despite his outward casual appearance is a closed book. With that perfect enigmatic fodder sitting before me, I could not curb temptation. One evening, I grew bold enough to ask the Captain the meaning of his ship’s name. I went around the subject a hundred different ways. My objective became a game, but I think I came close, maybe too close at times. He would smile then get moody or flash those green eyes at me. I see revenge in
those eyes. I said to myself, a woman has burned him. I wonder if that is what motivates a man like that.”

“I think you read too much in the man,” said Claire. “You were distraught going through such trauma. Fanciful tales filled your head.” Lord, had she said that? She sounded like Jarvis.

“No. I felt safe in his company, and I believe, I did guess on a couple of points. The stars in Scorpio, I mentioned to him are clear and bright, illustrious, marked for their true beauty as a woman would be. Then there is the matter of the tail which I initially thought was meant for him, dangerous and deadly. I studied the Black Devil and said to myself that would be too obvious. He is a more complicated man. I pushed further. I asked if the tail might have been symbolic for a woman who had betrayed him. I can tell you that for a single second, I saw flash a murderous look on his countenance. His reaction told me, I was dead on. After that, he excused himself from the table, and I did not see him until the next evening. For me his evasiveness was telling, confirming my suspicions. Ever since, I have been wondering who that woman might be. Was she a lover?” Lady Morton shrugged. “I guess I’ll never know.”

“You have foolish notions,” Claire said, starting to panic. She remembered a dark, starry night in the Governor’s garden. Devon had told her about his fascination for the constellation Scorpio, and the stars he compared to the meaning of her name, clear, bright and obvious. Was the woman he named his ship for−her? A tremor rolled down her spine. If he ever got hold of her, his retribution would be swift and merciless. Claire took a sip of tea to calm herself. Ridiculous. Hadn’t Port Royale’s defenses quadrupled in size and strength since the Spanish raid? She was safe, far-away from him. Didn’t he pirate in the distant ends of the Caribbean? His last words haunted her.
If the winds of fate prevail, and we cross paths again, then be forewarned my dear wife, I will have my revenge upon your person
.

Claire drummed her fingers on her chin then seeing Lady Morton eyeing her with suspicion, she stopped. Did she look obvious?

“The Black Devil is to be admired,” maintained Captain Smith. He has made an enterprise of pirating, operating a squadron of ships. How
he obtained them is even more remarkable. Mr. Ames recanted how they made a mass escape from Sir Jarvis’s plantation into the jaws of starvation. Mr. Ames, the navigator had been on the cusp of death due to a beating he received and unable to navigate. They remained adrift for days until rescued, unfortunately into a new slavery by Spanish Pirates. Since there is no love between the Spanish and English, they would have been killed outright. But the wily Captain Blackmon boasted of their specialist skills, for you see, the capture and forcible detention of skilled men is a regular feature of pirate attacks. Thrown into the hold and left to rot for the time being, Captain Blackmon insisted of his value as a ship’s surgeon and that of his ship’s carpenter. Since the Spaniard’s needed a surgeon, and their ship’s carpenter had expired, their captors relented. Captain Blackmon made a draught, passed it off to his carpenter who laced the Spaniard’s rum portion for the evening. When they fell asleep, Captain Blackmon released his men from the hold and took over the
Santa Margarita
. You can imagine the Spaniards’ chagrin when they awoke, bound in chains to find their situation reversed. Ames’s fever broke and they now had use of a navigator. After putting the Spaniard’s ashore on an island, Captain Blackmon, sailed off on his newly acquired forty gun ship that he renamed the
Sea Scorpion
.”

“You mean to tell me he has all the
Santa Margarita’s
gold that the Spanish robbed from Port Royale during the raid?” said the Governor astounded.

“The devil has all of Port Royale’s gold,” shouted Jarvis.

“You still have your head,” reminded the Governor. “Tell us more, Captain Smith.”

“Captain Blackmon runs a tight ship. A model for his men to follow, he abstains from heavy drinking, and discourages gambling on his ships unlike the majority of his fellow pirates.”

“Rubbish!” said Jarvis. “He resorts to torture and murder to achieve his ends. You make him to be heroic, but they are scoundrels, all of them thieving venal curs.”

“He has a magisterial air about him, a natural leader, but also is ruthless. As Ames gave me accounts and as I witnessed first-hand, his
attacks are swift, savage and born of genius. He served under De Ruyter in the Mediterranean,” said Captain Smith.

“I don’t believe it,” said Sir Jarvis.

“It is true. He told me so himself,” admitted Claire. Her fingers flexed around her fork, her uncle’s crudeness like a fly in the butter.

“Good God. He fought under De Ruyter? I thought he was a doctor. What a pack of rats, I had under my thumb,” cried Jarvis.

Lady Morton leaned over to Claire to whisper confidingly. “I wonder about a man who would impart such a personal and important detail to a mere acquaintance.”

Claire sucked in her breath. She would have to be careful with Lady Morton.

“Your name, Claire, does it not mean, clear, bright and obvious like the stars in the Scorpion constellation? Perhaps there is more to this story. Perhaps you are the beautiful woman who scorned him?”

“Ridiculous, Lady Morton. You are provocative. I had nothing to do with him.” Wouldn’t Lady Morton be surprised to learn that the Black Devil was her husband?

“Am I? Then why do I feel you have been defending too easily a slave and pirate? What if I told you that he is marrying a girl from Tortuga? What would you think then?”

Claire looked away. Her vision blurred. After a moment, her voice was less steady than before. “Why should I believe such tales?”

“Is it not commonplace among the Black Devil’s crew?” continued Lady Morton settling in her chair like a hawk on a perch.

“Commonplace? But he cannot marry.”

“And why ever not? Pirates are people and can fall in love then marry. Why is it you object to Captain Blackmon’s nuptials?” Lady Morton probed.

Claire could not possibly comment

“She is a wild thing they say, complimenting his nature, don’t you think?” Lady Morton put exactly two teaspoons of sugar in her tea, stirred, studying Claire under narrowed eyes. “So really it’s all for the best. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“I dare say, civilization fashions a cloak even for savages,” Claire said because she had to say something clever to cover her odd reaction. Because she felt too stunned to cry.

Captain Smith opined. “According to his navigator, it should be taken into consideration that the Black Devil’s present outlawry might well have been undertaken not from inclination, but stress from sheer necessity. He had been forced into it by the circumstances of his transportation and unjust sentencing. It is noted that he doesn’t normally attack British ships.”

“Rubbish. He seizes every ship of cargo I send to England.” Jarvis growled his contempt.

“He does have a particular fondness for you,” said Governor Stark, pulling at the lace on his cuff. “Perhaps if you had treated him better…”

“I should have gelded and hung him when I had him.”

BOOK: The Winds of Fate
13.79Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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