Ransome's Quest (35 page)

He hoisted himself up from the boat, finding the shallow slots in the frigate’s side with his fingers and toes.

Julia stepped back to allow him room to climb up onto the deck. He turned toward her and removed his hat, dropping into a formal bow. “Mrs. Ransome.”

Her brows raised. “Commodore Ransome.” She started to curtsey but flinched and drew in a sharp breath between her teeth.

Slamming his hat back on his head, he reached forward and cupped her elbows to offer her support. “How may I assist you?”

She took a few deep breaths and then, regaining a smile, looked up at him. “You can greet me properly, as a husband should greet his wife after they have been so grievously torn apart.”

And though she smiled, her eyes flooded and two tears fell.

William kissed her—hands leaving her arms to twine his fingers in her hair, not caring that his hat fell to the deck. Her lips, though dry and rough, responded to his with a hunger that tore at his soul and made him forget anything else existed in the world but the two of them.

A loud noise brought him back to his senses and he pulled away from his wife. To their left, William’s officers and crew crowded
Alexandra
’s decks cheering and throwing their hats in the air. Heat climbed the back of his neck. Julia, clutching his coat with her left hand, buried her face in his chest with a groan.

“Would that Serena and I were already married so I could greet her in such a manner when I return to Philadelphia.”

William stiffened, remembering his other purpose here. Stepping away from Julia, and taking his hat from Michael’s steward, William recomposed himself. “Michael Witherington, on charges of piracy and kidnapping, you are hereby placed under arrest. You will be taken to Kingston, where you will stand trial.”

Michael’s good humor instantly clouded. “You cannot arrest me. We made an agreement. You put it in writing.”

“You nullified that agreement when you boarded
Sister Elizabeth
and abducted my wife.” No, he should have said
Mrs. Ransome.
This was not personal. This was a matter of justice.

Michael took a step toward him. “I boarded the ship and rescued
my sister
to save her life.”

“Just as you abducted Miss Charlotte Ransome to save Mrs. Ransome’s life?” William moved forward, his toes nearly touching the pirate’s. He needed to punish someone for having taken Julia away from him because he had not had the satisfaction of dispatching Shaw himself. Besides, Michael Witherington’s smug self-satisfaction annoyed him.

Julia wedged herself between the two of them and pressed her back against Michael’s chest. “That is quite enough from both of you.”

William wasn’t certain as to whether she was trying to get Michael to back away or to protect her brother from her husband. All he knew was that his wife had come between him and his quarry.

“You will not interfere in matters that do not concern you, Mrs. Ransome.” William continued staring over her head at Michael.

She grabbed the lapel of his coat and pushed on his chest. “But this does concern me, Commodore Ransome. You see, I am the concerned party here, not you. I am the one who was injured when my carriage was overturned. I am the one who was taken aboard Shaw’s ship. I am the one who took Shaw’s fist in my face when I spoke out of turn. I am the one who was almost choked to death by both Shaw and his brother. I am the one who spent days locked in a lightless compartment with little to drink and less to eat and no place to sleep or take care of my personal needs. I am the one who”—her voice broke—“who had to watch as Shaw put a noose around your brother’s neck and hang him until he was almost dead and then release him.”

William could now not tear his eyes away from the expression of distant horror in his wife’s face.

Her breaths came in irregular gulps. “And I am the one who had to free myself from being tied up in the bilge, by my own ingenuity, so that I could try to find James and escape.” She sniffed as tears threatened. Her focus slowly returned to William, and some of the terror left her green eyes. “And I am the one who had to do all of that with injured ribs that
still hurt.
So do not tell me that this matter does not concern me!”

She took another gasping breath that sounded more like a sob. “Please excuse me.” She slipped past Michael and disappeared down the companionway toward the big cabin, her gait stiff and unnatural.

How could William repair the damage that had been done to his wife? The physical injuries would heal, but the emotional scars…she would carry those with her the rest of her days.

“When the mainmast went down,” Michael said, still looking at the door Julia disappeared through, “she was beside it. She was knocked unconscious and buried in rigging that could have suffocated her.” He turned to face William again.
“Alexandra
and
Audacious
had not yet started boarding. What else was I to do but step in and rescue her?”

William sighed. “You did what was necessary, and I commend you for the action you took. Our former agreement stands.” He pressed his lips together in a tight smile. “Besides, I do not believe she would forgive me if I had you arrested now.”

Michael chuckled. “You might be surprised. I recently discovered just how forgiving a heart my sister has.” He inclined his head toward the door. “You should go to her.”

William nodded his thanks to his brother-in-law and made his way down to the half deck, comprised of the captain’s quarters. His first posting as a commander had been aboard a frigate this size. He did not miss it at all.

A young Indian man opened the door at his knock. He stepped back and motioned William into the cabin, seeing himself silently out.

Julia stood beside the round dining/worktable, a cup of tea trembling in her hand. At the sight of her husband, the tears she’d been holding back unleashed and poured down her cheeks. But she did not sob or wail.

He took the cup from her and set it on the table. Gingerly, he placed his arms around her shoulders, cradling the back of her head with one hand. “Can you talk about it?”

“I…feel…so…foolish.” She sniffed.

“You have been through an experience no one could comprehend. You need to express your emotions.” Her hair smelled of exotic spices which both soothed him and made him want to bury his face in its silky softness.

“It…it is not that.” She gasped a breath. “I am c-crying because…my…side hurts. It won’t stop. It hurts when I sit down and stand up. It hurts when I try to sleep. It hurts when I breathe…” Julia continued extolling all of the activities that made her side hurt.

William smiled, glad she could not see his face. Of course his wife was weeping over the pain of her broken ribs, not the horrors that transpired over the past seven days. Knowing her, it was the first time she allowed herself to admit just how much pain she was in on a continual basis.

“I am sorry your side hurts. We shall have Dr. Hawthorne examine you when we return to
Alexandra
.”

“Thank you, William.” She moved her left hand up against his chest and used it to protect her cheek from the rough wool of his coat. “Are you going to arrest Michael?”

“No. I was angry he did what I had set out to do.”

“Rescue me?”

“Rescue you.” The smell of the spices—in her hair and from the teapot steaming on the table—acted as a soporific compound on William. Exhaustion gnawed at his body, his mind.

“All he did was pull me out from under a pile of rope. ’Twas your plan that rescued me.”

Bless her for trying to salvage his pride. “No, ’twas your brother who rescued you. Your brother…the pirate.”

Julia pushed back against his chest and he loosened his hold so she could look at him. “He’s a good pirate, though. He frees slaves.”

William ran his finger down the side of her face, freeing the tendrils of hair that had stuck to the moisture on her cheek. “There is no such thing as a good pirate. Michael Witherington bears a letter of marque from the Congress of the United States naming him a privateer. With the renaming of this ship so that his men can sail her back to Philadelphia, the legend of the pirate El Salvador dies with the burning of
Vengeance
as he assisted the Royal Navy to apprehend Shaw. A good ending.”

Julia nodded. “A good ending for a good pirate.”

William could no longer resist. He bent down and kissed her. Long and soft, trying to convey his love, his devotion, to her.

She raised her arms to embrace him and then gasped, pulling away. “I am sorry, William.”

He kissed her forehead. “Do not distress yourself. It will heal.”

Julia eased herself into the straight-backed wooden chair with a groan, arms wrapped tightly around her middle. After a moment of easing her spine against the chair’s back, she dropped her left arm into her lap. “James is recovering from his injuries?”

“He is almost back to his old ways, meaning he is ornery and discontent with being under my command.” William pulled a chair closer so that when he sat, his knee touched hers. He poured a cup of the spicy tea for himself, tasted it, and then, frowning, set it aside.

“You do not like it?”

“I do not like my tea sweet.”

“I know, but this is different. Suresh adds guava juice to it.”

William was not certain what a
guava
was or why anyone should want to drink its juice, but he did not want to disturb his wife’s pleasure in the drink.

“I am thinking about asking him to come work at Tierra Dulce. He could be an under butler. Or he could be your valet.”

“I do not need a valet. And if I did, there is Dawling.” He pinched a corner off of the toasted brown bread on which someone had spread red jam.

“I appreciate all the work Dawling has done for you, William, but Suresh is…”

“Better? Yes, I agree. But there is loyalty to be considered, and no one has been so loyal to me as Dawling.” The sweet tartness of the raspberry preserves awakened William’s hunger, and he lifted the entire piece of toast to his mouth.

“While we were waiting for you to board, Michael told me a story of Charlotte and Ned. Is it true?”

He set the toast down, unbitten. “That they had Michael’s sailing master marry them?”

She nodded.

“Aye. Charlotte thought it was the only way to protect her identity and preserve what remains of her reputation.” He wiped a spot of stickiness from his finger on the cloth under the plate.

“He said his sailing master is a minister and that he had a church in New Orleans. But, William, I do not believe that in the eyes of our church Charlotte and Ned are truly married.” Julia worried her bottom lip with her teeth.

“When Michael marries his Serena in an American church, would you consider them not truly married because they were not married in the Church of England?” He picked up the piece of toast and took a large bite.

“No, of course not. But they will be getting married by a minister ordained to do so. We know nothing of this sailing master’s qualifications to perform marriages.” She set her empty teacup down. “I want Charlotte brought on board
Alexandra
until we reach Kingston. Until they are married by a proper rector, they must behave with propriety, as an unmarried couple.”

William finished the last bite of the toast and lifted his cup to wash it down before he thought better of it. He took Julia’s empty cup, filled it with water from the pitcher on the table, and tried to wash the cloying sweetness of the tea from his mouth.

“Charlotte is too young to think rationally about this, and as her oldest male relative, it is up to you to make her behave properly.” Julia grimaced and pressed her arm tighter against her side as her voice rose.

William refilled his cup with tea and handed it to Julia, keeping hers for water for himself. “Charlotte has been aboard
Audacious
with Ned for four days. He also espoused the idea of waiting until they had a real church wedding before…” Heat crept up the back of William’s neck, but not from embarrassment. It was not so long ago that Charlotte had been a child, a baby. So sweet, so innocent, so young. “Yes, I will have Ned bring Charlotte to
Alexandra
as soon as we return.”

“What do you think my father will do with Michael?” Julia picked a crumb up from the cloth and put it back on the plate.

“As a naval officer who has served under him most of my life, I believe he will listen to the facts, as Michael presents them and as I will explain in my missive to him, and make an objective judgment.” William watched his wife’s face.

A smile started at her full bottom lip and danced all the way up to her green eyes, replacing her worry. “And as a daughter who has lived with him, I believe there will be quite a bit of yelling first.”

William leaned over and kissed her. “Are you ready to go home, Mrs. Ransome?”

“Quite ready, Commodore Ransome.”

He stood and extended his hand to her, letting her take her time in rising, his heart aching to do something, anything, to make her pain stop.

Michael met them at the top of the companionway. “Ah, good. I was coming to get you. Signal from
Alexandra
requesting Captain Cochrane’s and your attendance urgently.”