Читать книгу Loves' Conqueror - Renee Hand - Страница 4

The wind whipped wildly, tearing at the sails, as the waves beat against the sides of the Fighting Spur, rocking the ship violently. Great waves rose up over the prow of the ship and crashed down, sending tides of white foam across the deck, causing the crew to slip and fall repeatedly as they fought to keep the ship under control. The squall had lasted an hour already, and the men were getting tired. Heavy squalls could blow up fast at sea, could last what seemed hours, and then end as abruptly as they came. When this vicious squall finally blew itself out, leaving an open night sky, the sailors were relieved. The sea slowly calmed, allowing the ship to sail smoothly and safely into port. As soon as the Fighting Spur anchored, the captain released the crew, allowing them to go ashore and enjoy the pleasures of the sinful Island of Tortuga. The lights of the town enticed them, energized them, and they eagerly filled the longboats. Tortuga never slept. The men would find food, drink, and women aplenty.

But the captain did not join his crew in their licentiousness. He had other concerns and another destination drawing him as surely as the needle of his compass sought north.

The sky sparkled with millions of stars, like jewels in a pirate’s chest, as the captain and his first mate lowered the last longboat. As Davy, the first mate, started pulling on the oars, the quarter moon began to rise, its two horns punctuating the calm seas. But the sight of the moon gave little comfort to the man staring at its glowing horns hoping—no, praying—for considerable fortune.

Captain Stratton Mayne was a man built for adventure. He was tall, thick, and muscular. His sun-bronzed skin was framed by long blond hair that fell in waves to his shoulders. His blue eyes were as bright as the ocean on a sunny day and were always expressive, always cunning.

Davy pulled on the oars heading away from Tortuga for a quiet part of the island far from the recklessness of the port town. Davy was a man in his late twenties. Younger than Stratton by only a few years, his hair was as black as night and cut short to his ears. He was tall, about six feet, and his shoulders were enormous and wide, making the pull on the oars seem almost effortless. His size alone intimidated most men.

As the oars dipped again and again into the dark sea, Stratton’s mind filled with thoughts of his wife, Miranda, and her beauty. She had bronze skin like his that often glowed against her soft brown eyes. Her chestnut hair looked like spun gold with its sun-struck highlights. Miranda was a pirate, just like him, and had stood at his side on many adventures. When Miranda married Stratton, he promised a life of adventure and freedom. That’s what she wanted, and that’s exactly what she got. For months on end, she sailed with her husband, traveling to various islands for exotic birds and valuables to sell to civilized ports. She loved the sea. Captain Mayne treasured memories of her standing at the rail, the wind in her luscious hair, her eyes reaching far out to sea. Together they had taken merchant ships and stripped them of the valuables aboard. Silks and spices they stole for markets in the New World. Exotic birds taken from ships leaving the New World were sold on the black markets of Europe and England. Heavily armed military vessels were plundered for their gun powder and weapons, making the pirates formidable opponents on sea or land, and food stores were taken to keep themselves at sea longer. Rum and sugar from the Caribbean found ready markets in any port, and cloth, combs, buttons, and other metal goods had easy sales in any New World city. Rarely would they come upon a ship with chests of gold or jewels, but even when they did, the wealth would never satisfy them or their crew for long. Lust of every sort was part of pirate life, and none in that profession were known for their frugality.

Miranda was a well-kept secret in that there were few women who chose the pirate life. On the rare occasion when an enemy would board the Fighting Spur, she would play the part of the innocent captive. Standing at the rail had saved their ship from being destroyed more than once. She would be handed over to the enemy and protected by them, but a true pirate she was. She would infiltrate the crew from the inside and turn the tables on the would-be conqueror. Miranda was a skilled swordswoman. On her own she could take on several men. Her beauty and sex would give her the advantage against disbelieving men; her abilities would give her the win. She was revered by the crew and, though sailors usually felt a female aboard was bad luck, she had proven herself and was accepted. She always wore breeches and linen shirts, like they did. She kept her long, brown hair braided down her back or tucked under a cap. She fit in perfectly and always treated each one of them with respect. She was as good at swearing as they were, was not loathe to climb the rigging, and could hold the wheel in storm if need be, being lashed by wind and waves. The crew loved her.

Then Miranda found that she was with child, and everything changed. Stratton forced her to stay at Eleuthera Island. They had built a house there, long ago, on a hill surrounded by jungle. With no settlement on the island or anywhere nearby and only one protected bay to hide the ship, no one knew of this hideaway, except for Stratton’s trusted crew, and not a one of them would divulge the location. They respected and feared Stratton too much. Stratton also made sure that he always arrived at the island at night. His men only saw the rugged cliffs where the surf pounced mercilessly and not the protected bay or the caves that were underneath his home. No outsider had ever set foot on the island; no one had ever thought to land on the island. The caves’ rocky passageways served their purpose as deterrents to all, and only Stratton and Miranda knew its secret winding way in.

Stratton knew that his wife and unborn child would be well protected there. However, a few months into the pregnancy, Miranda’s pirate restlessness showed, and she begged to be aboard the Fighting Spur again. She missed Stratton and her life at sea. So deeply in love was he that he could deny her nothing, Stratton allowed her one more sail. He planned only a short voyage because he feared their rugged life might be too hard on her in her condition, and yet he wanted to satisfy her love of the sea. At the time, she did not seem troubled by her pregnancy and walked and acted the same as she did before. Thinking that it would cause her no harm, they sailed to Tortuga. While his men partook of the pleasures of the town, Stratton and Miranda traveled inland to see the wildlife on the other side of the island. That was what Miranda had wanted to do, and so they did it, but something happened that they did not expect.

Miranda started getting pains. These got so severe so quickly that both she and Stratton agreed she could not return to Eleuthera to have the baby as she would have liked. She was forced to stay on Tortuga until the birth of their child. Instead of begging for Stratton to stay by her side, she insisted he leave and return in a few months’ time. Though she loved her husband dearly, she knew that he could do nothing for her. His time was better spent elsewhere while she dealt with the birth and its complications. Stratton left her in the capable care of a priest who was in their debt for the funding and building of his church that saw to the needs of the natives of the island.

Miranda was a believer of God, and Stratton gave to the priest when she asked. Miranda felt it was good for them to help others. She had a good and generous heart and soul, but she was also very clever. She knew that sharing some of their fortune with the priest and the natives would allow them safe access to the island of Tortuga, at least the wild parts outside the town. Their generosity gave them a place to hide, should they need it, and, on occasion, they had. Now it provided Miranda safety during her time of confinement.

Stratton and Davy beached on a quiet beach up the coast, and they pulled the longboat as high up on the sand as they could. As Stratton’s eyes filled at the sight of the priest’s house, located on the side of a hill facing them, he cursed himself for leaving Miranda. He cursed her a little as well, for being stubborn and keeping him at a distance when all he wanted to do was be at her side. Without a word, he began to run along the jungle path that led to the priest’s house. Instead of knocking on the door, Stratton ran at it full bore and broke it down. As he and Davy entered into the room, they saw Miranda upon a cot. The priest was between her thighs, and his hands were bloody.

An instant protective anger filled Stratton as he stepped forward aggressively, but before he reached the cot, he saw the birth of his child. The priest was speaking encouragingly to Miranda as she gave one more push. He pulled the baby the rest of the way out and held it in his arms. He then began to clean the fluid from its lungs. Soon, the baby gave its first healthy cry, causing tears to spring from Stratton’s eyes. He ran to his wife’s side in excitement. Upon seeing him, Miranda gave her husband a weak smile.

Up close, Miranda’s appearance shocked Stratton. Her face was covered in sweat, and her glorious hair had become a dull, dark mat. Her hand clutched at her stomach periodically and her features wrinkled in pain. The warm glow of her skin seemed to have disappeared, and gone was any evidence of her energetic spirit and lust for life. She was pulling away from him, he could tell, and what angered him most was that there was nothing he could do about it, except watch. As he stared at her, he wished that they were back again on his ship. Often, he would stand by the helm and watch as Miranda stood by the prow breathing in the fresh sea air and letting her arms spread outward as if she could fly. She had been free and filled with life. It had been her spirit that he had fell in love with, her beauty that entranced him. Her strength could outlast any man’s and yet here she was, her strength and sassiness gone, her features weak and pale. It scared him and filled him with sadness.

He glanced at the priest, who smiled briefly, his attention focused more on the baby he was bathing with a damp cloth. “It is a girl, Captain Mayne,” the priest said quietly as he finished the task. Once done he wrapped the baby in a clean blanket.

Stratton finally tore his eyes from his wife’s face to gaze at his new daughter. He fell in love immediately. He thought his daughter to be the most beautiful baby he had ever seen.

“Can I hold her?” asked Stratton uncertainly.

“Of course. Just be gentle.”

Stratton could wield a sword with dexterous skill. He was a formidable fighter, and a deadly aim with rifle, pistol, and cannon. And, should he be bereft of all these weapons, he could fling a dagger with such accuracy that none stood against him. But he didn’t know how to hold a baby. After standing awkwardly a long moment trying to figure it out, he looked to the gentle priest, who smiled and pressed the infant gently into his unsure arms. The baby’s face was smooth and angelic, innocent and pure. Her eyes seemed to study him, and her little arms and legs twitched and pushed at the blanket. Stratton stared transfixed at his daughter, afraid to hold her tighter for fear of crushing her for she was so small and delicate. His eyes then returned to his wife, who also gazed upon their daughter.

“Miranda?” spoke Stratton, his voice cracking as he tried to gently pass his daughter to his wife. Miranda wouldn’t take her, Stratton became concerned and returned his gaze to the priest. The man slowly shook his head. Once Miranda was cleaned, the priest lowered her legs into a relaxed position and covered her lower body with a blanket. Miranda winced from the pain the movement caused her. Davy glanced at Stratton and saw him open his mouth to speak. When no words came out, Davy decided to ask the question he knew his captain could not.

“What’s wrong with her?” he asked, his tone filled with concern. Davy then glanced over at Stratton and saw him close his eyes and breathe deeply. He was preparing himself for the dreadful news that he knew was coming. The priest turned to face them.

“She’s dying. She’s lost much blood in the delivery. But that’s not what’s killing her, I think. She’s weakening, and the pain she feels in her abdomen will not cease, which means that she is bleeding from the inside . . . or worse. There’s nothing to be done. I’m sorry.”

“No!” Davy said quietly, moving for the first time into the room from his station at the door. He knew how much Stratton and Miranda loved one another, knew this forced parting would not be easy for Stratton. The priest moved to a basin and washed his blood-covered hands. After taking a deep breath, he dried his hands on a scrap of cloth and watched Stratton. The captain’s large hand caressed his wife’s damp hair as he kissed her cheek tenderly. Stratton’s eyes filled with sadness, and he had a hard time accepting the fact that his wife was going to die.

“Are you sure there’s nothing that can be done?” pleaded Stratton, but the priest only shook his head again. The poor priest was filled with helplessness for not being able to help Miranda more, but he did not know what else to do. As his eyes fell upon her, he could not help but shed a few tears. For months she had kept him company and helped him and the natives he served with tasks around the island. She had loved walks on the beach and would often swim in the shallows near the shore. Further along in the pregnancy, she spent much time gazing out at the sea. When he would watch her, the priest had noticed the far away look in her eyes and knew that she was thinking of her husband and their past adventures. Her features would always fill with sadness and something else. At times he thought she felt regret.

“Unfortunately, there is nothing that I can do. If I could change places with her, Captain Mayne, I would, for that’s how much my heart aches for her.” The priest paused as he tried to compose himself. “The damage has already been done to her body. By the time I find someone who might be able to save her, she’ll be gone. We are miles from someone competent in medicine.” The priest’s gaze moved hastily to the baby in his arms. Miranda then turned her head slowly to her husband as if wanting to say one last thing before her strength gave out. Stratton let a tear fall as he held his wife’s hand and gazed lovingly upon her. “Keep our daughter safe, my husband. Don’t let her live the life we have led. It is not right for her, the life of a pirate. We are rich enough for her to live a life of luxury.

See that she does. Let her know that I love her and never let her forget me.” Miranda then reached for an object around her neck and placed it in the palm of her husband’s hand. “This belongs to her now. It is no longer mine. One day, if she desires it, she should be given the chance to find the treasure that we could not. If she is anything like me, I know that she will want to, though deep down I hope she doesn’t.” Miranda’s face contorted in pain and then she relaxed slightly. “I have many regrets, and the biggest one was not allowing you to stay with me. I have missed you so, and now I’ll never see you again.” Tears flowed down Miranda’s cheeks as her sadness choked her.

Stratton could not help but to cry as well. “I know, Miranda. I should have stayed by your side. I shouldn’t have let you push me away. I regret leaving you and have missed you so much. I don’t want to lose you.”

“Nor I you, but it will happen. It’s meant to be. Stay strong for our daughter, Stratton. She’ll need you. Be a good father to her. Don’t let pride come between you. I love you, my darling.” With those words Miranda Mayne cast her last breath, her hand still held tightly in her husband’s.

“Miranda? No!” Stratton shouted. “No!” he leaned forward and held his wife in his arms, his body wracked with sobs. After several minutes, he let her go. As he was about to stand, he glanced at his palm to see what his wife had taken from her neck and pressed into his hand. Lying there gently was a cylindrical crystal. The clearness of the crystal shined and sparkled in the candlelight. It had a hole bored through one end where the necklace could go through. He wore a similar crystal around his own neck.

They were identical pieces except for an angled notch set into his. During his wife’s first voyage aboard his ship, they’d came upon a Spanish vessel carrying goods to the Americas. The vessel didn’t give up its stores easily, and they fought. The Fighting Spur, a fast sloop with fourteen guns, captured the ship and finally sank it, but not before they removed all of its precious cargo. Miranda, when snooping around the captain’s quarters, found a small treasure box of jewels hidden underneath the berth. She snatched it up before even surveying its contents.

When she finally opened it aboard the Fighting Spur, she found diamonds, emeralds, and rubies of various sizes and shapes that shined brightly for all to see.

There also were the two uniquely shaped crystals, that when put together, formed a key. Lining the bottom of the box, she came upon a piece of parchment. Upon reading it, she learned that the crystals opened a safe or vault of some sort. However, half of the parchment was torn away, and the beginning of what looked like a map was gone. No location or any other pertinent information gave away its where abouts. Miranda immediately disclosed the information to her husband. They had searched for the treasure, but never found it. In the meantime, each wore a piece of the crystal to show they had an equal share. Now Miranda’s share would go to their daughter.

Stratton held the pieces tightly in his hand recalling their promise to each other. He then turned to his daughter, fast asleep in the priest’s arms, and stood. He reached for her, but was unsure how to take her without waking her. She was so small and fragile, and Stratton’s hands were large and callused from life at sea. The priest, upon seeing the dilemma, again placed the baby in Stratton’s open arms. Stratton held the baby tightly to his chest, tears of joy running down his cheeks.

“She’s a precious child, Stratton. Do you have a name for her?” asked the priest. Stratton stroked his daughter’s cheek as he thought of a strong name to give her. He then glanced at his wife, remembering what she had requested of him.

“Her name will be Miranda, after her mother. Isn’t that right my little angel?” Stratton stared at his daughter. The child was still sleeping, but her lips moved slightly in response.

“What are we going to do now, Captain?” asked Davy.

“We’re going to return to the ship and set a course for Eleuthera, Davy.”

“Eleuthera? But, Captain,” replied Davy. His words stopped when he saw the hard, determined look upon Stratton’s features.

“My wife needs a proper burial. I won’t leave her here. I won’t toss her body into the sea. She deserves better, Davy. She deserves to be home where she should have been. I promised the men more booty, but there’s something I have to do before we can sail again. I’m all that my daughter has now. I cannot continue this reckless life and bring danger upon her. The Fighting Spur will be dry-docked until my daughter’s old enough to sail. Then, when we are ready to sail again, our destination will be for England.”

“England, Captain?” asked Davy in disbelief.

“Yes, England,” replied Stratton. “Will the men stick with me?” The thought of not having a crew alarmed him at first, but then he laughed. He could always find willing men to serve under him. His reputation was good enough for any man to want to join his ranks.

“Of course, they will, Captain. You’ve brought the men much wealth these past years. I’m sure that some of them would welcome time to enjoy their plunder before they die. All we need is about a half dozen faithful and trustworthy men to stay with us. The rest can be let go until we need their services again. I’ll make sure they get paid in full. We do not wish to have any grievances.”

“That sounds good, Davy. Thank you. Now, as my first mate and most devoted friend, it’ll be your job to look after my daughter’s welfare when I’m not able to be with her. If she’s anything like her mother, she’ll need us both to guide and love her. Can I trust you to keep my daughter safe?” Stratton turned toward Davy and placed his daughter gently into his arms. Davy looked down at the sleeping baby and felt honored for being given the task. His heart melted as she turned her head and moved her arms farther into the blanket. His blue eyes admired the beautiful child he was holding to his chest. He had always wanted a child of his own but did not see one in his future, especially not with his love of the sea getting in the way of settling down. He didn’t want to change his ways for a woman and yet his heart started to melt at the sight of the infant in his arms.

“Yes, Captain, I’ll take the responsibility of protecting your daughter when you cannot. From this day forward she will be my daughter as well, and I promise that no harm will ever come to her whilst I’m watching over her. You can have my life upon that oath.” Satisfied, Stratton moved away from Davy’s side, already thinking of the sad trip ahead of them. Miranda’s last voyage.

“Good, then we’ll raise her together, and she’ll have the love and protection of two fathers. At this point I don’t think I’ll ever love another woman as much as I loved my wife, but a daughter is different. She’ll always have my love. My heart aches, though, because I’ll never be in love again. How could I? There’s no woman out there who would accept me for who I am the way Miranda did. Love is a joke for fools like me who believe they’re deserving of it. Oh, how I loved Miranda, Davy.” Davy placed his hand on Stratton’s back and patted it as tears came to his own eyes.

“You are young, Stratton. Miranda was a great woman, a great pirate who was as slippery as an eel when it came to stealing booty.” The comment made Stratton laugh as memories of his wife’s past exploits filled him. “She’ll always be in your heart,” Davy continued softly, “but don’t scoff at the idea of finding love again. It is possible. Look at me. I once thought I’d never have a child to love and raise—now I do.”

Stratton patted Davy on the arm and then shook his head and stared once more at his wife’s lifeless body. He couldn’t help but to go to her, caress her cheek and kiss her lips one last time before he stepped away from her and covered her with the blanket laid upon her.

“Some of my people can help you carry Miranda’s body back to your longboat. She’ll be sorely missed,” spoke the priest. “Her laughter illuminated this place and brought music from the trees. I’m so sorry for your loss.” The priest then left as a few tears escaped his eyes and ran down his cheeks.

Stratton nodded as he thought of his daughter’s future. He wanted a new life for her. A life he knew would be hard for him to bear. He then thought of Davy’s promise and smiled. He was thankful for his friend’s help. His thoughts then fell upon his beloved wife as he watched a few of the natives walk through the door of the priest’s house toward him. As they saw Miranda’s body, their heads immediately bowed in sadness and respect. Stratton’s hand moved swiftly to his lips as he closed his eyes, his heart aching. Tears began to flow like a river down his tanned skin, his chest filling with loss. He would miss Miranda dearly.