A Pirate's Possession (11 page)

Claire sputtered. She couldn't believe Nate had such nerve. “You expect me to be happy that I have to share this with you when you clearly don't need it?”

He snatched the map from under her hand, growled when she stretched to take it back. He rolled up both pieces and handed them to her. “If you can figure out this map and get there before me, the treasure's yours.”

Answering was impossible due to the storm of emotions blowing within her. How dare he! How dare he dangle his riches before her knowing she had nothing. And he knew it. Hell, anybody looking at her knew it. And he had the audacity to use it against her!

Search for the treasure without him? She would in a heartbeat if she could, but she'd lost everything in the game. She was destitute. If she let Nate go off to find the treasure, he would. And he'd keep it and then where would she be? Claire braced against the table, hung her head. She had no choice.

And oh, how she loathed that.

Being poor in and of itself wasn't so bad. She could feed herself and live by her own rules. But being controlled by anybody left Claire with a bitter taste in her mouth. She'd lived that life in the orphanage, and again in her brief marriage. She'd promised herself she'd never live that way again and yet here she was.

Nate made it sound as though she had a choice, but they both knew she didn't. She either had to hold her tongue in order to acquire a share of what she felt was rightfully hers or she'd lose it altogether.

There wasn't a choice to be made.

“Have you made your decision?”

Go to Hell,
she thought,
and take all your money with you.
She couldn't believe she'd wished, just last night, that he'd take her into his arms. Well, she wouldn't make that mistake again, but it didn't change her predicament.

She nodded.

“Perfect,” Vincent said, his face being the only one of the three around the table that looked even partially happy.

“Be sure, Claire. Once we set out, there's no turning back.”

She met his hard gaze with one of her own.

“I'm not going anywhere.”

“Fine then,” Nate answered. “Let's get to work.”

Eight

Work was exactly what it turned into and it ate through all of that day and most of the next. Vincent and Nate took turns at the helm and on deck. Claire spent most of the time in Nate's cabin trying to decipher the map. She continued to sleep under the lifeboat. She and Nate had formed a kind of truce as they worked on the map, but that didn't mean she was comfortable sleeping in his cabin, even if it was when he was on deck.

It was simply too intimate a thing to consider. It was already unnerving spending so much time with him after all these years, talking to him and remembering—despite her efforts not to—the times they'd shared. Sleeping in his bed, something she'd dreamed of often after he'd left the orphanage with the promise of returning, would make fighting the memories almost impossible. And she would fight them. Giving in to them would weaken her and she wouldn't allow that to happen.

Dusk had fallen outside the small window. Thin trails of black smoke wove upward as Nate lit the thick candles. Claire watched his face warm with the glow of flame and felt a tug in her belly.
No, no
, she thought.
No.
She forced her gaze back to the map, but no sudden inspiration came to her. It was getting harder and harder to keep up her hopes with the daunting task at hand. There were so many possibilities, and they simply didn't have a specific enough point to begin their search.

“Having the complete map was supposed to make things easier,” Claire muttered. Her eyes burned from studying it and she closed them momentarily. The relief was immediate and wonderful.

“Perhaps,” Vincent said, sliding the map from under Claire's fingers, “we should concentrate on the reason the treasure was never recovered.”

Claire blinked her eyes open. “Because nobody's had the map.”

Vincent humored her with a grin. “I realize that, dear, but I don't mean recently. What I am referring to is if the Spanish wanted this treasure badly enough to crash a perfectly good vessel for it, then create a map and hide it, why didn't they ever go back for it?”

“Or why did they bury it to begin with?” Nate added, taking his usual seat across from her. “Once the treasure was off the
Santa Francesca
, they had nothing stopping them from taking it directly to Spain.”

“There's always the threat of pirates,” Claire reminded them. “Pirate attacks aren't limited to ships known to carry treasure. They aren't exactly a discriminatory lot after all.”

Vincent coughed. Nate smiled, his eyes filled with humor when they met Claire's. “That would depend on the pirate, I suppose,” he said.

“What I mean is that perhaps if we knew why they buried it to begin with, we'd have a better idea of where to look,” Vincent stated.

“How in blazes are we ever going to know that?” Nate asked him.

“Claire, you said that you knew of three ships that were in the area about the same time the
Santa Francesca
left Nombre de Dios. What else did you learn?”

Claire sighed, tucked a leg underneath her, and leaned back in her chair. If they were taking this route, it was going to be another long night.

“It made sense to me, once I learned the treasure was never recovered near the wreck, that it must have been moved. I talked to several people, both in Nombre de Dios and in Cartegena, and they all agreed that they'd heard of at least three ships around that evening.”

“At least three? There could be more?”

Claire looked at Nate. “I know that doesn't sound very assuring, but since most claim that there were only three ships, and were in fact able to name them, that's what I've used as the basis of my search.”

“And they would be?” Nate asked.

“The
Maiden of the Sea
, which was last seen close to Havana. The
Emmeline
, which was reported to have gone past Santo Domingo, and the
Fernando
, which made its last known stop at Barbados.”

“Perfect. Not only does this still not tell us why they hid the treasure,” Nate reasoned, “but it also leaves us with three completely different routes.”

“Only two, as it happens. The
Maiden of the Sea
was taken by pirates not far from Nassau. The handful of survivors swore the treasure was never on their ship.”

“Well of course they'd say so. You don't think they'd have told them where it was buried, do you?”

“From what I learned, the sailors on board were flogged. The cat-o'-nine-tails was reputedly well used that night and more than one man died from the abuse.”

“A man would confess to almost anything to escape that,” Vincent muttered.

From the horror on his face Claire knew he was picturing the hide-made whip that had nine knotted ends, each of which carved into the back of whoever was being flogged.

“Which is precisely why I tend to believe them.”

Nate scrubbed his face. “All right, that brings us down to two ships and two routes.” He looked at Claire. “There are lots of islands near both Santo Domingo and Barbados that have bold shores.”

“I know,” she agreed with a tired sigh.

“Let me see that again,” Nate said and Vincent passed him the map.

Claire watched Nate as his fingers traced the islands and his lips moved as he read the words. Though men tromped about above and their muffled voices carried through easily enough, Nate's cabin was quiet and still.

“This,” Nate said, tapping the map. “Where it says ‘bold shore.' What if it doesn't mean what we think it does?”

“I don't follow,” Claire said, though she unfolded her leg and sat straighter.

“What if instead of a steep cliff, it actually means to be bold, or brazen.”

She frowned. “Brazen?”

Vincent looked at her, raised his shoulders in puzzlement. “I've no idea,” he said.

“Can you not think of a port that is dauntless and arrogant?”

“Tortuga?” Vincent suggested.

“Not Tortuga. Pirates are more than welcome there. But there's a little island that once fought off a pirate attack. The natives were outnumbered dreadfully, but as they were fierce warriors, not only did they fight for their lives and won, they also took down half the pirate crew in the process.”

The name came fast to Claire's mind and she grabbed the map, saw where Nate had drawn it in. She pointed to the island that lay southeast of Santo Domingo. “Isla de Hueso.”

“Isla de Hueso?” Vincent repeated.

Nate smiled and his eyes sparked, drawing Claire into his excitement. “It wasn't called that at the time, but it's since been given that name. The point, however, is from that moment on, they flew a mutilated pirate flag from their shores.”

“To warn other pirates away,” Claire said. “I've never been there, but I've heard of it.”

“Out of curiosity, does it also have a steep cliff?” Vincent asked.

“The island,” Nate explained, “is shaped like a bone, which is how it got its name. The two ends are heavily treed and very rocky, but I wouldn't go so far as to call them bold shores. They aren't very steep and the rocks go out a ways, making mooring a ship there tricky.

“The middle part of the long two sides of the island, after you get past the rocks and trees, have sandy beaches and the town rests on a small rise between those beaches.”

“If the pirates were run off, what makes you think we'll fare any better? Especially when they realize what we're after?”

“You have to remember that was almost one hundred years ago, Vincent. The island is barren and has been for near a hundred years.”

His eyes flashed with understanding. “What happened to the natives?”

“Well, they weren't inhospitable to everybody and were more than happy to welcome visitors who stopped by to do some friendly trading. The problem, according to the stories, is that one such group of visitors brought along with it smallpox. It killed off most of the tribe. Those that survived left for fear of contracting the disease. It's been abandoned ever since.”

Excitement skimmed over Claire and drew gooseflesh on her arms. It all made such perfect sense.

“If it is on Isla de Hueso, then that means the treasure was on the
Emmeline
, since Isla de Hueso is on course to Santo Domingo,” Claire reasoned. “It's a likely spot to hide treasure and all the clues fit. If the island was feared to carry traces of the disease, then what better place to hide a fortune than an island nobody dares stop at?”

“Exactly. Besides, if the island was uninhabited, and it would have only recently been if the dates are accurate, then there would be nobody to witness them hiding it there.”

“But why
did
they hide it and why haven't they come back for it?” Vincent argued.

Nate shrugged. “Could be any number of reasons. I'm inclined to believe that they suspected they were being followed and panicked.”

“From what I've been told, the
Emmeline
never made it to Spain.”

Nate arched a brow. “She sank?”

“Then how did the map come to be?” Vincent wondered.

“According to the stories, when the
Emmeline
stopped in Santo Domingo, she wasn't anchored very long. I agree that they believed they were being followed and panicked. I think they hid the treasure then headed to Santo Domingo. I found a few people who'd been told stories by their grandparents. Apparently the sailors who'd come ashore had made a point of saying they had no cargo, that they'd already been plundered by pirates.”

“But you don't believe that?”

“No, Vincent. I think it was a ploy used in hopes it would keep anyone from going after them. But in case it didn't work, they made the map. They hid half of the map on Santo Domingo that day and the other half—”

“Was taken by the pirates that looted and sank the ship once they left Santo Domingo,” Nate finished.

“Yes. Add nearly one hundred years and the passing around of that map and here we are.”

From the corner of her eye she saw Vincent shake his head, clearly not as convinced as she was that this treasure was real and that they'd finally deciphered its location, but that didn't matter. What mattered was the truth that rang in Claire's heart as surely as the moon that shone through the window. She finally knew where the treasure was!

“Are we on course for Isla de Hueso? How soon can we get there?”

“We'll change our direction immediately.”

“And the ship that's following?”

“As she's not gaining ground, she's obviously a bigger ship that can't keep up. But don't worry, I won't lead her to our treasure. If she comes any closer, we'll turn round and sink her. She won't take what's ours.”

Claire nodded.

“I'll go change our heading,” Vincent said.

With the absence of Nate's first mate, the cabin suddenly felt close and intimate, and it brought into sharp reality exactly what Claire was preparing to undertake. She and Nate would be alone on a deserted island for days while the ship went to Port Royal. Her stomach fisted. Her heart began to race.

Nate braced a foot on a chair, leaned on his thigh with both forearms, and looked her in the eye. She smelled the wind on his clothes, felt the whisper of his breath on her cheeks. She'd once looked into those pretty green eyes and seen, or believed to have seen, honesty and love. She didn't know, or trust herself to interpret, what was there now.