Justified Treason (Endless Horizon Pirate Stories, Book 1) (7 page)

Her face lifted with a hint of humor and I continued, “It’s not that I don’t want to take ye with me. Look, thar be something I didn’t tell ye either…” I knew I had to tell her what I did to get meself chased by that dog before she heard from the law, but I had to balance the particulars like I was playing a game of chess.

Takin’ her by the shoulders, I looked her in the eyes, being sure to show her the weight of the information with a heavy expression. “First thing I need is for ye to trust me when I tell ye this.” She shook her head to agree so I confessed, “Last night, before I ended up on yer roof, thar was a situation…I can’t tell ye much but I’m sure yer father will hear ‘bout it; it’ll be all over town by mornin’. Just believe me when I tell ye I didn’t hurt anyone. I protected her by me own honor and at a great risk. Now I’m tangled in a shitten bargain with the captain that requires me to sail with him if I like it or not, and where we be goin’ thar be no takin’ ye with me. That’s all I can tell ye, lest I be breaking the code.”

“What happens if you break the code?”

Amused by the honest intrigue on her face, I laughed, “I’ll get keelhauled for treason.”

She was hardly amused, but I was glad that she respected my need to keep quiet.

“Alright. I believe you, and I want to wait for you.”

I had heard that line plenty of times but I never liked it as much as I did when I heard it fall off her lips. I felt the side of me smile rise and she smiled back.

I pulled her close to me and as I wrapped me arms around her she sighed, “What am I supposed to do about my father and this wretched betrothing?”

“Well, ye say ye want to be a pirate. This be a prime opportunity to act in means of piracy. Just remember to fight with yer mind.”

The clouds finally rolled over the island and light raindrops began tapping on the ground. I covered her shoulders with me coat hoping to keep her dry until I got her home, but by the time we reached her veranda the rain was pouring without relent and she was soaked to the bone like I was.

We didn’t speak another word ‘bout our unique catastrophe, but I put me hand on her wet cheek and told her, “I don’t know if I’ll be seein’ ye again before I go, so I want to give ye this now.”

I reached into me duffle and pulled out me spyglass to give it to her.

“Now ye’ll be havin’ a better view of the ships that you love to watch.”

She wrapped her arms around me shoulders and cried like a baby. This time I understood why she was crying and I knew to hold her tight. I kissed her softly on the cheek before I took me coat back and lifted her to her veranda.

On
me way to the coast I remembered the cove I sat in at sunset had a rock overhang, so I walked towards it to find shelter from the rain. Normally, I would find me night’s rest by rowing back to the ship or by rubbing up on a wench, but I found no favor in those options tonight. I hung me coat to dry, laid next to a rock in the sand, but before I fell asleep I let me mind wander over all the events of the evening, and I couldn’t help but laugh at meself. It seemed that Charlotte Wetherby had seduced me spirit like a siren, for I truly wanted to see her again.

X

I awoke to a loud crash of thunder and sat up to stare at the ocean. The faint glow of morning sunlight illuminated the gray blanket of clouds as the rain fell in a drizzle. I was carried away by the sight of the dark, glassy ocean and longed to be back at sea. A few days in port were always enjoyable, but before long, the stillness of the buildings and the permanence of the roads would become stale. The ever-changing wash of the sea was me home.

I did a round of pushups, as I did every morning to keep me body fit for work. Once I finished, I was pleased to see me coat was mostly dry, so I put it on to head for town. I was ready for a warm meal, especially since I knew it would be me last one for a while. Though I looked forward to meeting up with the crew, it would be me first time facing Captain Morley since the incident. I was slightly unnerved by the animosity of the situation, but I also looked forward to the challenge, knowing I had the upper hand.

As I made me way to town, the drizzle of rain faded to a mist and then dissipated altogether.

After finishing
me breakfast at the inn, I walked towards the market to get meself a new spyglass. On me way, I noticed a man in black standing on the corner preaching from the Bible. Even though I boasted to Charlotte ‘bout being raised around the word, it had been a while since I had read the book; and longer since I had last gone to church. Even the most ravenous buccaneers would make their occasional Sunday appearance, and I knew me father would have slapped me upside the head if’n he knew how long it had been. Me guilty conscious got the best of me, so as I passed the preaching man, I slowed my pace and listened closely to hear what he was saying.

Pleased to see an audience drawing near, he made sharp eye contact with me as he read the line. “There is no fear in love; but perfect love casteth out fear: because fear hath torment. He that feareth is not made perfect in love…”

I interrupted the preacher before he could go on, tellin’ him that I liked the verse and wanted to double check on the correspondence. He smiled warmly. “The Lord loveth when a man accepts His word. I will be glad to share with you, son.” He showed me the line and after I wrote it down, I shoved the piece of paper in me coat pocket but he handed me a leather bound Bible. “May the Lord’s blessings beith upon thy heart.”

I put the book in me duffle and as I moved on I decided I would soon make me occasional appearance in church.

Veering towards the bustling crowd of the market, I walked through the makeshift tents and canopies to find the aisle that had what I needed. As I sifted through the clothes and trinkets, fruit stands and hat displays, I remembered Charlotte telling me how she liked the market. Just as I thought her name, I heard someone say it.

Turnin’ around, I saw
an older man speaking to a merchant at the other end of the booth I was near. I looked down at the rack of scented oils to look busy and eavesdropped on the conversation.

The Dutch merchant woman said, “Good to see you as well, Mr. Wetherby. How is your daughter, Charlotte? I have not seen her in a while.”

My mind lifted with interest. Surprised that I would run into Charlotte’s father, I wondered if she was near, and also wondered how I would react if’n I saw her when she was with him. Me face wrinkled in disgust as I heard him say, “We have finally found her a good man to marry and we will be thrilled to have him sail in next week.”

The woman exclaimed, “Oh, she is a wonderful young lady. I will be glad to see her marry well. Give her my best.”

Wallace Wetherby walked next to a beautiful woman who I assumed to be Charlotte’s stepmother, and they walked right past me without a clue ‘bout who I was. I concluded me business at the market so I could get down to the tavern.

When I walked in The Rusty Anchor, I saw me mateys standing around near the back of the room. As I walked towards them I heard a deep and assertive voice dash in me direction.

“Where ye been?”

Lookin’
over to my left, I saw Captain Morley and the darker end of his crew sitting at a smoke billowed table. I had sailed with this bunch for a few months now and though the plunder was good under Morley’s flag, the political division was becoming more of a problem. Their unwelcoming faces made it clear that things were ‘bout to get worse.

Walking
toward the table, I was glad to see Captain Morley swoosh away all his sitting mates. They fanned out into the bar and the captain gestured for me to ‘ave a seat. In an interrogatory tone the blimey bastard grumbled, “Ye gone missin’, matey. I thought ye drifted off me account.”

“I might be likening to but I gave ye my word.”

Morley laughed with condescending humor. “Avast, that cursed word of honesty will be the death of ye one day, mate.”

The bar maid showed up with a full round of drinks for all the men
who had left, so the captain offered me a mug. I accepted the drink and casually replied, “It’s me honest word that be getting ye to the loot ye be after, so I’d say it be working out in yer favor this time, Captain.”

He steeled his eyes with hatred,
but strictly to annoy him I tapped the side of me temple and reminded, “Ye be better off with me bearings than the blood of that lass.”

I had quickly finished me first mug of ale so I started another as he smoldered, “And now that lass lives to report against our crime. What good will yer dead reckon do
for either of us when we be hangin’ at the gallows?”

I knew he was right but thar was nothing else to be done over the matter. I could clearly see how infuriated he was with me and I was sure that he wanted to take his blade to me throat again, but he needed me to get his gold. “We aren’t hangin’ yet, Captain. Ye ‘ave the key, I know the way, and though our dissension be heavy, our accord is quite mutual.”

He concluded our meeting by chuggin’ the ale in his hand and the one next to it right after. As he stood up, he slammed his mug on the table and wickedly hissed through his teeth. “Mutual indeed. Don’t ferget that ye be needin’ that gold as much as I do. I‘ll be seeing yer arse on deck before sunset.”

I grabbed another drink and leaned back in me chair as I assured, “I’ll be thar, Captain.”

As much as I hated ‘aving someone tell me what to do, thar was one thing I hated more, and that was cowardice.

Chapter 3

Forbidden Plunge

As told by Charlotte Wetherby

A
rumbling roar of thunder bashed across the sky as I watched Sterling walk away in the pouring rain. I hugged the spyglass he gave me and hoped I would see him again in the next flash of lightning, but when the electric blast illuminated the wet and darkened sky, he was nowhere to be seen. My ridiculous teardrops were flooding my heart the same way the rain was flooding the night.

Sitting
down on my chaise lounge, I laid my face in my hands, and attempted to pull myself together. Even though I managed to calm my breathing, I couldn’t seem to get a grip on the nattering worries thundering in my mind. I wondered where in the world Sterling was going, and continued to fret over the possibilities of my uncertain future until I fell asleep in my soaking wet nightgown.

X

“Miss Charlotte.” Mary softly touched my shoulder, but I shot up with a suspenseful inhale. As soon as I realized what was going on, I grabbed the spyglass and tried to hide it under my arm.

“Are you alright, Miss Charlotte?”

I blustered a shaky response through my startled state. “Yes, yes I am fine. I just, oh my…” I looked at myself and realized how wet and disheveled I was. An excuse to distract Mary from my condition was nowhere to be found so I settled for a ridiculous falsity. “I am fine.”

The look on Mary’s face was doubtful and inquisitive. “Don’t worry, love. I sent Margret on to other chores. No one needs to know I found you this way.”

I sighed in relief. I was ever so grateful that Mary covered for me, but as I rubbed my eyes I attempted to clarify exactly what it was I was hiding.

“You know,
Charlotte, you can talk to me if you need to.” Mary assured.

“Oh, yes. Mary, I know. It is just that…”

Mary saw how I was lost for words and as usual, she did not force the issue. “You just relax, darling. I am going to fill the tub for you before breakfast. You don’t need the rest of the household wondering why you are covered in mud, and smelling of sea salt, and what is that, sandalwood?”

I fluttered over the thought of smelling like
Sterling and inhaled the fabric of my nightgown to confirm it. It was all him and my heart warmed in the magic of his aroma.

While Mary got the bath ready, I thought about my relationship with her. She had been serving me for two years and was hardly twenty-five. Her thick dark hair contrasted against her light skin, and her eyes were an enchanting
gray-blue color. She was kind and patient like a servant should be, but she always went the extra mile to be more than that. She was comforting and warm like a good friend. In fact, she was the closest thing I ever had to a friend. All of the other girls I knew would come and go between the island and England, but as much as I was intrigued by the tales of their travels, I always felt left out having no stories of my own. I had never thought so far into my relationship with Mary but I realized it would be nice to have someone to talk to, and if I could trust anyone with my secret, it would be Mary.

My skin was cool and damp from sleeping in my wet nightgown, so the warm bath water felt more soothing than usual. Having hardly slept at all, I was tempted to fall asleep as Mary washed my hair, but in my dreamlike state of mind, I managed to tell her my story.

I started by emphasizing the level of trust I expected of her, then I attempted to polish the introduction of my tale, but after stumbling on my words I finally just blurted out, “I am in love with a buccaneer.”