Bound by the Buccaneer (12 page)

Gaston summoned some men to go ‘round and survey the damage. They’d lost some men, and the ship would need repairs, but as he watched Chatham run the Spanish Captain through with his sword, he doubted there would be much more in the way of rebellion from that crew.

“She’s taking on water,” a deckhand reported breathlessly.

“How bad is it?” Gaston asked.

“It’s not good, but she should be able to reach Port Royale with constant bailing, if there are no delays.

“See to it. Round up twenty men and get to bailing,” Gaston said.

“We lost one canvas, Capt’n, but we have another we can raise,” another man said.

“Make it so,” Gaston said.

The smoke was still thick in the air, his eye stung and he coughed.

It was then that he saw her. Behind the man, across the deck lying in a heap was the collapsed figure of Frederica. Bells of alarm clanged in his head and he ran toward her, unaware of the debris littering the deck.

He pulled her lifeless body into his lap. A long red gash ran diagonally across her forehead and spread deep into her hairline. Cradling her head in his arms he held her close. “Freddie,” he whispered into her ear. “My darling Freddie.”

When she did not respond, he spoke louder, more insistently, “Freddie!” He pressed two fingers to her neck just below her jawline. She had a pulse. Hallelujah!

But dear Lord in heaven, why wasn’t she moving? What had he done? Why had he brought the woman he loved into such a dangerous situation? Hell, he knew the dangers, and he cursed himself for not setting her up in a little cottage on one of the islands where she would have been safe.

Even as he asked these questions he knew the answer. Frederica would never have had it any other way. She would never have agreed to such an arrangement, and she was an inordinately obstinate woman. For Frederica life was about adventure. She laughed in the face of danger and flouted convention every day.

Stroking her hair, he called to her once again, but wherever she was he could not reach her. His sweat rolled down his cheek and onto hers, and it wasn’t until he swiped it away that he realized it wasn’t sweat at all, but tears leaking from his one good eye.

Holding her in his arms, the chaos of the battle and everything else in the world melted away. He couldn’t lose her, he just couldn’t.

Chapter Fifteen

Upon inspection it turned out the Spanish Galleon was indeed carrying a massive amount of gold in her holds. When the smoke dissipated and the booty had been transferred from the Spanish ships onto the four pirate ships, the other three captains rowed over to
Ocean’s Knave
for a conference with Gaston.

The gold had been split into four shares between them. Gaston and Chatham would take ten percent to the governor in Port Royale, and since the
Ocean’s Knave
was taking on water, the
Volusia
would carry it. Pugwash and Appling would take the remainder of the gold to a secret location known only to the four captains. They would bury a portion of the treasure and distribute the rest to their men. Circumstances forced Gaston and Chatham to trust the other two men with their gold, and threats were made as to what they would do to Pugwash and Appling if they made off with the treasure.

Gaston wasn’t terribly concerned about that, but Chatham was younger and unseasoned. Plus, it never hurt for Pugwash and Appling to fear retribution if they were to stray from the agreement. First of all, Gaston adhered to the code that there was honor among thieves, and second, he was too worried about Frederica to be all that concerned about the gold. It had been hours and she had still not come to. There would always be more gold, but there would never be another Frederica, and Gaston found it difficult to focus on the business at hand.

The plan was for Gaston to sail to Port Royale for his meeting with Governor Whitehall. Gaston and Chatham would settle the score with him, and then they would sail for the secret location and meet up with the others.

The men aboard the conquered Spanish ships would either choose to join the ranks of the victorious pirates who sailed under the red flag, or they would be taken as prisoners aboard the
Ocean’s Knave
. Gaston would turn those prisoners over to the governor to do with as he saw fit—a peace offering of sorts. In their experience only a handful of men would choose this option, most joined the pirate crew.

The captains of the conquered ships in addition to scores of their sailors had been killed in the battle. Several men of the red ships had been killed during battle, twenty-three to be exact, with eleven injured including Frederica.

In determining what to do with the wounded, Gaston assessed their resources. Pugwash had a blacksmith aboard his ship who had been known to handle amputations. The five men who might require such an operation would be loaded onto the
Greed of Hades
.

That left six people injured. Chatham had no medical personnel on board, and Frederica had been the closest thing the
Ocean’s Knave
had to a doctor. While Chatham and Pugwash talked triage for the remaining injured, Miles laid a hand on Gaston’s shoulder and took him aside.

“Has she awakened?” Miles asked in a low voice.

“No,” Gaston whispered. He shook off Miles’ arm and began to pace in the small room where they had assembled.

“I will take her with me,” Miles said.

“You most certainly will
not
!” Gaston whirled round, glaring at Miles.

“Calm yourself, mate,” Miles raked a hand through his blond mane, which was wild and filled with soot after the battle. Gaston noted one of his shoulders was covered in blood. He pointed to it with a questioning look. “Not mine,” Miles said, and Gaston nodded.

“The
Independence
is the only ship with a physician on board,” Miles explained.

“Is he any good?” Gaston asked.

“Better than most. If anyone can help her it will be him.”

Gaston studied Miles. The man’s brow creased with worry, and Gaston recognized sincerity in his eyes. He had known Miles a long time, had always known him to carry a torch for his beloved Josephine, but he had known Frederica carnally. Was his concern for Gaston or for Frederica?

Deciding to bring the matter into the open, Gaston inquired, “What is your interest in Frederica?”

“What do you mean?” Miles asked. “If you mean do I have feelings for the lass, the only sentiment that passes between us is that of friendship.”

“Even after you three bedded her?” Gaston made an angry swipe of his hand that included the other two captains who were wrapping up their conversation.

Miles shook his head. “Gaston that was a brave and perhaps foolish thing for you to do, offering your woman to us like that. Of course we took you up on it. And while Frederica has considerable charms, my heart belongs to someone else.”

“Josephine?”

Miles nodded.

“Hell, Gaston. I’d take Frederica for myself, but the girl is besotted with you,” Pugwash interjected.

Gaston eyed him doubtfully.

Chatham chimed in. “Pugwash speaks the truth Galette.” He sighed, “Such a comely lass, but so in love with you.”

Gaston let their words sink in before laying a hand on Miles’ forearm. “Take her then. Promise me that you and that doctor will do everything you can for her. Everything possible.”

Miles covered Gaston’s hand with his own and nodded.

“Everything. You must give me your word, Appling,” Gaston said with a mixture of gratitude and fear.

“Nothing less,” Miles assured him.

Moments later Hatch carried Frederica to the side of the ship. She looked like a tiny ragdoll slumped in his arms.

“I’m sorry, Capt’n. I should have protected her. My job,” Hatch said to Gaston, the rims of the giant’s eyes were swollen, but they were dry.

“That is not your job, Hatch. Your job is to defend the ship. You did your job, and there is nothing any of us could do to prevent this. She was hit in the head with flying debris, a casualty in the field of battle. There’s nothing any of us could do.”

Silently, with his head bowed, Hatch climbed down the ladder and handed her to Miles who settled her carefully into a dingy. Miles’ crew members rowed them over toward the
Independence
. As his precious Frederica sailed out of sight, Gaston’s heart broke into a million pieces.

Later that evening the
Ocean’s Knave
set sail for Port Royale, and Gaston retired to his cabin. Without Frederica the space felt empty. The events of the day had left him weary and he lay down, hoping sleep would allow him to escape the hollow feeling that had taken hold of him.

Just as he closed his eyes something pounced on him. With a start he realized it was Old Bones. The white cat kneaded his paws into his chest and meowed insistently. The old boy must be missing her as well, Gaston thought as he stroked the cat’s fur.

He found an odd comfort snuggling with Frederica’s furry companion. The pair commiserated for a time and then Gaston fell asleep to the sound of Bones purring.

Chapter Sixteen

Though it certainly did not compare with the chateaus of France, the governor’s home in Port Royale was by far the finest dwelling in the entire city. It rose three stories high and was fortified with red brick. It did not have a porch, a feature Gaston had grown to appreciate when he’d lived in the Carolinas, but Governor Whitehurst was the wealthiest man in the Caribbean, and if he didn’t mind the lack of a porch Gaston decided that was his prerogative.

A dark-skinned man opened the door, showed Gaston and Chatham into a well-appointed parlor, and went to fetch the governor. Gaston looked around at the governor’s huge collection of books. He’d been an avid reader in his earlier years, but realized now it had been ages since he’d picked up a book.
How had that happened?
His chest tightened as he realized that he hadn’t read a book since meeting Frederica. Every waking moment he wasn’t toiling on the ship or managing the crew, he had been content, no thrilled, to bask in her companionship.

It rattled him that it was her companionship, and not merely the allures of her nubile young body that kept him enthralled. Frederica had become his partner in every sense of the word. She was his lover, his mistress, and his most trusted friend. When he pictured her the way he had last seen her, her lifeless body lying next to Miles, his heart skipped a beat. He issued a silent vow.
If she ever comes back to me, I must make her mine permanently.

A door creaked and his thoughts were interrupted by the entrance of Governor Whitehurst. The governor cut a distinguished figure in his formal garb, complete with gold buttons and powdered wig. Gaston and Chatham jumped to their feet. Chatham bowed while Gaston proffered a hand.

Whitehurst gave Chatham a dismissive glance and took Gaston’s hand, giving him the limp fish version of a handshake. Inwardly, Gaston shuddered. It amazed him that the man could have risen to such heights of power with the grip of a young girl.

“Captain Galette, Captain Chatham, it is good of you to come. Let us take a seat.” He motioned for them to sit and they obliged.

“It is an honor to serve you, sir.” Chatham fawned touching his index finger to the brim of his hat.

“Yes, I hear you have a haul for me,” the governor said.

“We do, sir. Quite a haul.” Chatham went on to share the details of their exploits against the Spanish Galleon.

The governor did not seem impressed. “Any prisoners?” he asked nonchalantly.

Gaston answered, “Five prisoners, sir. They have been taken to the jail.”

“Ah, good. I need people we can make an example of, and those outlaw Spaniards will do. The ruffians are getting out of hand in Port Royale, and the people need constant reminders of the power of the British government.”

Gaston made a great show of agreeing wholeheartedly though he couldn’t care a whit about the governor’s problems with the citizens of Port Royale or how he managed them.

“Chatham, I am grateful for your service. I’d like you to go down and meet with the bursar, make certain we have all the gold accounted for.”

Governor Whitehurst rang a tinkly, silver bell, and a moment later his daughter appeared. Her flaming red hair contrasted against her pale skin and her features were pleasant. She wore fashionable clothes that suited her plump figure. The girl took one look at Chatham and a delighted smile spread across her face.

“Captain Chatham, this is my daughter, Henrietta Whitehurst. Henrietta, this is Captain Edward Chatham, Captain of the
Volusia
.”

Henrietta looked at Chatham in that enthusiastic way pirates looked at a treasure chest brimming with gold, and Gaston was surprised when a sheepish Chatham grinned back at her. This was a side of Chatham Gaston had not seen before.

“Henrietta, will you please see Captain Chatham to the bursar’s office? Then he and Captain Galette here will be joining us for dinner.”

Henrietta eagerly agreed. Chatham offered her his arm, and she tucked her arm in his and they left, closing the door behind them.

Once they were gone, Governor Whitehurst leaned over and looked Gaston square in the eyes. “Captain Galette, we have a bit of a problem and I believe you might be the man to help us solve it.”

“A problem, sir?” Gaston asked, hoping the man wasn’t going to tell him more about the local rabble rousers or regional politics. What happened on dry land did not hold much interest for him. He preferred the drama in his life to play out in the open seas.

Whitehurst nodded. “Nasty chap by the name of Humphrey. The worst sort of pirate. Sails under the Jolie Rouge.”

Heat rose in Gaston’s cheeks, and he hoped the governor wouldn’t notice. He hadn’t sailed under the Jolie Rouge per se, but if the governor thought ill of the practice, then he and his men could find themselves in trouble.

“Yes,” Gaston offered, noncommittally.