Читать книгу Loves' Conqueror - Renee Hand - Страница 5

Twenty years later

“Are you ready, Miry?” asked the deep voice behind the door. Miranda Mayne checked her appearance one more time before moving to the closed door. Her golden skirts flowed side to side as she adjusted the crystal necklace around her neck, tucking the crystal between her breasts and out of sight.

“Yes, Davy, I’m finally ready.” Miranda opened the door with a smile, knowing that her faithful friend had asked her at least twenty times if she were ready.

“I don’t know what takes you so long in your appearance. I take less than an hour,” remarked Davy. Davy was the same man that he had been twenty years ago, except now his pitch black hair had various shades of gray mixed in. He had become much wiser with his age, as well as a tad bit softer. Raising Miranda had taken its toll, and he had changed into a different man. He had not only become like a second father to Miranda, but a mother as well, constantly nagging at her to behave. He was devoted to her and rarely left her side. Because of his guidance, Miranda had turned into the woman her father wanted her to be, and yet she had a wild side to her, too. Just like her mother, she loved the sea, cursed often, and was too free with her words, but she was also courageous.

"I have more to put on, I assure you. I am more than willing to make a trade and wear your breeches while you wear my dress.” Miranda placed her hand on her stomach, adjusting her shoulders slightly. The dress had a low neckline and a tight waist, so tight in fact, that Miranda had a hard time breathing. “If father buys me one more corset I will scream.” Davy grabbed Miranda’s hand and placed it on his arm as he glanced over at her. He escorted her from the room, closing the door behind her, and walked down the hallway quietly. They were descending the stairs when he responded.

“Child, be thankful of your father’s generosity. He only wants what is best for you.” Miranda’s brown eyes expressed her frustration with the dress.

“I am thankful, Davy. Forgive my outburst, but I can hardly breathe in this damn thing. Whoever makes these corsets should be shot, because apparently they have never worn one. A man probably created it. No offense to you, my faithful friend.” Davy only smiled at the beautiful girl beside him as he placed his hand over hers. Miranda had grown into a beautiful and enchanting woman. She was almost the spitting image of her mother and had her spirit. Her hair was the color of a pale yellow satin, while her eyes shown their light brown splendor. Her skin was pale but had a hint of a tan from her time in the sun without a parasol aboard her father’s ship. He let her sail with him every time he visited her in England, but never took her for very long trips. Stratton didn’t want his daughter to love the sea as much as he did, so he limited the amount of time she spent on board, and yet for all of his efforts, she still loved to sail.

The pair left their townhouse and stepped into a carriage waiting for them on the street. After Miranda sat down she straightened the folds of her skirts. She then gazed out the window into the calming afternoon light.

“I long to be on Father’s ship, Davy. I desire to feel carefree and alive again. When will he be coming to port?”

“To be honest, I’m not sure. I haven’t received a letter from your father in several weeks, which is quite unusual.” Miranda’s brown eyes met Davy’s blue ones.

“Should I be concerned?” Stratton Mayne wrote to his daughter at least once a week, if not more, telling her of his adventures. Often, he would come to port in the harbor and stay for weeks to spend time with her, bringing her various gifts like fabrics and linens, a parrot from the Caribbean, which she couldn’t accept because of the cold weather. He brought her many things from his travels and yet all she wanted from him was his love and affection, but most importantly she wanted his time. If she was just able to spend quality time with him, no gifts, no broken promises, then she would be the happiest girl in the world.

The last trip that her father made was two months ago when he brought her jewelry and silk fabric from the Orient, which her seamstress made into several fine dresses for her, as well as some breeches and shirts for Davy. The idea of not hearing from her father in several weeks concerned her, and a frown marred her unblemished brow.

“There is no reason for us to be concerned yet, Miry, but if we do not hear from him soon we will go searching for him.” Davy was also concerned for his good friend. Not receiving a letter from him meant he was caught, hurt, or worse—hung. Davy gave up his pirating ways to devote his time to Miranda like he had promised long ago, but Stratton refused to give up his freedom as a pirate. It was not the wealth he wanted or needed, but the adventure and freedom. He found life boring and spiritless, needing the sea to keep him feeling alive and young.

“You’re right, Davy, and I respect your judgment on the matter. If we do not hear from Father soon, we will go looking for him. Now, let’s talk of a different matter. Who am I eating supper with again? Is it Lord Covington or Lord Brussels? They all look the same to me with their long dark wigs and pale faces. Few men wear their hair short nowadays. What do you say to that?” Miranda adjusted her bodice, her gaze not leaving the man who was sitting across from her smiling.

“Lord Covington is getting married. You remember the invitation he sent. It was the one you threw into the fire.” Miranda did not reply, her features unchanging. “And Lord Brussels stopped his pursuit after Lord Hammil stepped in. It is he who we will be eating supper with tonight. Over the past few months you have selected to forget Lord Hammil, and you know that is how long you have been seeing each other—a few months. He has asked me for your hand in marriage. Do you not remember this or do you simply choose to forget? And by the way, wigs are in style and do serve some importance. Some men choose to wear them because of their station. However, there are many men who do not.”

“You don’t!” Miranda blurted sharply.

“No, for I care little about style and what other men think important. Besides, wearing a wig itches my head and is unbearable to me. I can’t stand wearing them. I have always liked the shorter and cleaner look with my hair; that, and I do not wish to spend very much time on it. ” Davy rested his hands upon his stomach as he gazed at Miranda contently.

“Sometimes I think of our meeting as a bad dream. A dream I want to forget.” Davy raised an eyebrow, not liking her answer. Miranda exhaled a frustrated breath. “Yes, sometimes I choose to forget the man. Don’t get me wrong, he is handsome and pleasing but I just don’t enjoy the time we have been spending together like I used to. He is quite eccentric in his ways and mannerisms, and I just can’t see us as being husband and wife. I guess that I can’t see myself being happy with a man who makes me feel ashamed for being me. Whenever we are together, I feel like someone else. I feel like I have to be a different person to please him. I am slowly becoming a person I hate. Maybe that is the price of growing up, I don’t know, but what I do know is that I am not happy.” Miranda paused, taking a deep breath before continuing.

“But then I think about the good side of our relationship. Lord Hammil is quite devoted with his affection for me, so at least I know that he will love me. He is also well respected and rich, let’s not forget that, so he will also be able to take care of me, to provide for all my needs. I would have a good life with him—a safe life. Father will be pleased with that and he will probably adore Lord Hammil and agree to the match. When I think about Father’s happiness, I feel that I can sacrifice my own to please him. People do that for the ones they love, right? Sacrifice some things in their lives to please another?” Davy nodded his head and yet his heart filled with sadness.

“You are too young to have to make such sacrifices, Miry. If you are that unhappy with the man, I can make Lord Hammil quickly go away.” Miranda’s eyes grew wide as she shook her head.

“No, Davy! Let’s wait ‘till we hear from Father. If he is pleased with the match, I must obey his will. Has he said anything about Lord Hammil’s proposal in his letters?”

“He has said nothing, but you already know that. There is not one day that goes by that you have not read those letters at least twice. I have seen you when you think I’m not looking.” Miranda turned her face toward the carriage window and gazed out into the street.

“I miss him, Davy. I want to be by his side at sea, not here. This is not the life I was meant to live. Why won’t he accept it and let me be with him?” Miranda turned her face back toward Davy, awaiting his answer.

“You know why, Miry. It was your mother’s last request. She didn’t want you to become a pirate like her, or your father.”

“But why? They lived a life of excitement. A life filled with strange pleasures. They were happy, Davy,” replied Miranda. “I want that same happiness.”

“They lived a life with the fear of getting caught, Miranda. Pirates, when caught, are hung or worse. It is not a pretty sight. Believe me when I say that I have seen much in my day—too much. Now is especially not safe when most of their sanctuaries are being governed. The life of a pirate may seem glamorous to you, for one so naïve, but it is a dangerous lifestyle with many risks. Your father risks his life each and every time he destroys or loots a ship. I pray daily that he is never caught, and it is wise for you to never speak of him to anyone besides me. He is infamous, and the fact that he has never been caught is appealing to many. The bounty on his head is handsome. Men would gladly turn you in to catch him. Remember what I say, young one, for though I would never betray you, there are men out there who gladly would.” Davy glanced one more time at Miranda before he turned to face the window.

After some time passed, Davy spoke again and turned to face Miranda. “Do you remember when you were twelve and your father asked what you wanted for your birthday?” Miranda nodded her head and smiled briefly.

“I told him that I wanted to sail with him for a year.”

“Yes, and with much deliberation he agreed to the request,” said Davy.

“He did, but afterward he brought us back here, and after staying only long enough to allow the men time to restock the ship, he left. I did not hear from him, or see him, for the next six months,” spoke Miranda.

“But you know why he kept his distance, don’t you, Miry?” Miranda shook her head quickly, still angry for the way her father had acted. “As you know, sailors do not like women aboard their ships. Even a child is unacceptable in their eyes, for as far as they are concerned, all women are bad luck. But during the time that you were aboard the Flying Wasp, you changed the men’s opinion of you, and you could do no wrong. You cared for each man, respecting them as an equal instead of the filthy scum of the earth that everyone thought them to be. You were slowly turning into your mother. Even at such a young age your father could see it, and it scared him. He could not let that happen. You were wise to the ways of sailing, for your father and I taught you everything that there was to know, and yet you far exceeded our expectations.

“Your mother was a pirate—a good woman. You have to understand that your mother didn’t want that life for you, which is why you are here with me and not by your father’s side. You are destined for something better, Miry. If you would stop being stubborn for one minute you would see that this course chosen for you is the better one.”

“That may be so, Davy, but what frustrates me the most is that he could be with us right now if he wanted to. For his own selfish reasons he chooses to be alone instead of with me. He abandoned my mother when she needed him, and now he does the same to me. You gave up being a pirate for me, Davy, and as far as I am concerned you are more of a father to me than he is.”

“Miry!” Davy shouted, chastising her for her behavior.

“You did, Davy! You sacrificed everything for me when you truly didn’t have to,” spouted Miranda. “Why couldn’t he?” Before Davy could respond, Miranda turned her head away from him and focused her attention out the carriage window.

The rest of the ride was in silence until they reached the large estate of Lord Hammil’s. As soon as the carriage stopped, a servant opened the door and held his hand out for Miranda to take. She took it freely and stepped out of the carriage assessing her surroundings. The estate was vast with trees and a stable. The house was large from the outside and looked to have at least fifteen rooms. Miranda looked beside her where Davy now stood and shook her head, imagining what it would be like to be responsible for the house and all the events that would take place there as Lord Hammil’s wife. It all seemed overwhelming to her. Davy grabbed her elbow and walked to the door where a servant was waiting for them.

As they entered the house, the inside shined as brightly as the outside. The walls held portraits and pictures in every room. Wood tables and chairs littered the rooms with unlit candlesticks on top of them. A chandelier could be seen from the entranceway, and was radiant against the pale walls. The servant showed them into a parlor where there was a cushioned sofa and chairs for them to sit. A fire illuminated the room with warmth as well as light. Davy stood by the chair while Miranda surveyed the room more closely. Carpets lay upon the dark wood floor and furniture of different shapes and sizes filled the room. She walked past a table and dragged her fingertips across the top. She then glanced at her fingertips. Upon seeing no dirt, she knew the servants were doing their jobs.

“I wish to remind you to behave yourself. Men adore women who are obedient and humble. Act both with such an important man. Do not choose to embarrass me or your father.”

“Yes, Davy,” replied Miranda obediently as she rolled her eyes, careful not to let him see her. She knew what qualities men wanted in a wife, she also knew that she had very little of those qualities. Miranda was about to sit when the door to the room burst open and in entered Lord Hammil. Lord Hammil was a tall and slender man. He had short brown hair cut to his neck and a curling brown mustache. His blue eyes sparkled as they gazed upon her.

“Miranda, I am so glad to see you.” Lord Hammil walked over to where Miranda stood and grabbed her hand, kissing it in welcome. “Supper is served and is waiting for us. Shall we?” Lord Hammil offered his arm for Miranda to take, which she did with reluctance. As they moved from the room, Davy followed quietly behind.

The meal was exceptional as usual. They started with soup and then ate lamb with potatoes and bread. For dessert there was a plate of fresh fruit. As supper ended, Lord Hammil started a conversation about his work, hoping to get Miranda to talk to him. She had been quiet throughout the meal and wasn’t sure what to talk about other than the food on the table. To Lord Hammil’s dismay, Davy filled in the gap. When their plates were being taken away they were all given a glass filled with a burgundy wine. Miranda didn’t like the taste of it much, but still drank the contents to calm her nerves. She kept her eyes averted away from her host and stared frequently around the room with false curiosity. Now, as she placed her glass onto the table she could feel Lord Hammil’s eyes upon her. It was then she knew that she couldn’t escape conversation any longer.

“So, Lord Hammil, what is it, exactly, that you do again?” She knew he had explained it to her at least a dozen times, but was embarrassed to tell him that she wasn’t paying any attention when he had.

“Miranda, please call me Leonard. We don’t have to be formal when we are with each other.” Miranda quickly glanced at Davy who was standing behind Lord Hammil and nodded his head. “If your father gives me permission to marry you, I would like you to feel comfortable calling me by my name, as I will be calling you by yours.”

“Of course, Leonard,” replied Miranda dryly.

“I am in charge of handing out the letters of marque for the queen to privateers. I also have many other important duties that I am responsible for.”

“So, you are familiar with captains and their ships?” asked Miranda cautiously.

“Yes, I am familiar with many captains and their ships, though I can’t tell you which ones, my dear,” replied Leonard as he gave Miranda a charming smile.

“Why not?” Miranda’s voice held her disappointment but as her eyes narrowed onto Lord Hammil, she noticed the slight shake of Davy’s head to her right as he had taken a chair slightly behind him.

“Because, no one is to know what ships have that privilege. Now,” said Lord Hammil as he changed the topic. “Does my house please you? You will have run of it, of course, when we wed. Will you be able to handle the responsibility?” Miranda noticed the way Leonard smoothly switched topics, but decided not to pursue her interest in his knowledge of ships.

“Your house pleases me very much. Would we be staying here all year round or do you have estates elsewhere?”

“We will be staying here, mostly, but I do have other estates that we will be visiting periodically.” Leonard finished his sentence in a way that made Miranda feel uncomfortable about asking him the question. She then pursed her lips tightly, the corners of her mouth turning slightly into a frown.

“And where, pray, are these other estates?” Lord Hammil ignored the question as he smiled adoringly at Miranda.

“I must say, Miranda, you do please me. You are not only beautiful, but obedient. I like those qualities in a wife.” Miranda smiled at Leonard as he casually glanced down the length of her. The ogling made her want to shout in protest. “Yes, you please me very much.” Leonard quickly stood and approached Miranda, his eyes focusing on her lips. Miranda quickly glanced at Davy, who already rose from his chair to intervene. Her hands were clenching together, nervous about Leonard’s intentions. Other than the occasional peck on the cheek, he had never kissed her passionately before. In fact, she had never kissed any man before.

“Would you honor me with a kiss, Miranda? I have often thought of your lips upon mine. If you were to be my wife, then I would wish to kiss you often. It would please me greatly to taste your lips, if only just once to see if there is any magic between us.” Leonard reached out his hand for Miranda to take. She accepted his hand reluctantly and stood in front of him, her eyes glancing over at Davy pleadingly. He was now standing behind Leonard waiting for the moment to intercede. As Leonard slowly leaned forward, his lips moving closer to hers, Davy interrupted.

“Forgive the interruption, but I feel it would be better if you were to wait until you were wed to pursue such romantic intentions. I think only of her virtue.” Miranda exhaled the breath she was holding. Leonard exhaled a breath of his own, but it wasn’t with relief.

“Her virtue is safe with me, Davy, rest assured. Maybe there is somewhere else you need to be? When in my care, you can trust that I can protect her.” Davy folded his arms in front of his chest and narrowed his eyes threateningly. His arms were still muscular and though his youth was gone, one would never know it by how good of shape he kept himself in. Davy was a man who took great pride in his appearance and did not want to fall prey to age.

“Forgive me, milord, but Miranda has only one protector, and it’s me.” Lord Hammil stood tall and threatening, and though his whole demeanor spoke of his power, his gangly physique spoke of his lack of strength. He slowly let go of Miranda’s hand.

“I will take this time to inform you that once we are wed, your services will no longer be needed.” Lord Hammil turned abruptly around to face Davy. The men faced each other, determination in their eyes.

“If he stays with me or if he goes, Leonard, the decision will never be up to you. It is up to me, and I say he stays.” Lord Hammil glanced back at Miranda quickly, not taking his eyes away from Davy.

“When I am your husband, I will have the say over you, and he will go. I will not have him towering over me every time I wish to be alone with you.” Miranda’s eyes narrowed as she moved in-between Davy and Lord Hammil.

“He is my protector, designated to me by my father, and he will remain by my side for as long as he wishes to be. Forgive me, but becoming your wife isn’t official as of yet until I speak with my father about the matter. So please, do not try to change what you do not have any control over. Now, if you will excuse us, we have somewhere else we need to be.” Miranda moved toward Davy and pushed him to the door.

“Where is your father? I wish to get my answer from him soon.” Miranda faced Lord Hammil, trying to think up a good lie to tell him.

“He’s currently away on business, but when he arrives home I will make sure that you speak with him. We are all eager to hear what he has to say upon the matter of our engagement.”

“Yes, well, until his return I request that you join me for a ball I am throwing a week from today. I wish for my family and close friends to meet you. Will you attend?” Miranda thought of her future as well as the honor it would give her father if she were to marry such an established gentlemen.

“If that is what you wish of me, then of course I will attend as you request.” Miranda bowed her head slightly to the ground. Lord Hammil moved forward until he stood just inches from her. He then bent down and lightly kissed her upon the cheek, his eyes daring Davy to stop him.

“I will see you in a week’s time then?” She bowed in front of him again and turned for Davy to escort her out the door and into their awaiting carriage. Lord Hammil ran his fingers through his hair as he stared out the window watching the carriage move farther and farther away until it was only a speck on the road.

The week had passed by quickly for Lord Hammil. He was in his office mulling over paperwork when he was summoned to speak with the queen. He often did this when she was handing out or reissuing letters of marque to privateers to help her deal with her enemies, but today was different. When he arrived at the palace, it was not to speak with the queen, but with one of her closest advisors, Lord Havenor. When Lord Hammil stepped into a richly furnished room, Lord Havenor was waiting for him. He was a medium built man who wore a long gray waistcoat with white breeches. His face was solemn, his eyes a dark blue, missing nothing. He wore a long white periwig upon his head, which denoted the importance of his station. He did not appear to be a kind man, but a man who took his job very seriously. He was a man not to mess with.

Surprise filled Lord Hammil’s features, not sure of what the advisor wanted with him. They seldom talked with each other but when they did, the information was always useful. Lord Havenor motioned for Lord Hammil to sit in a chair opposite him. Once Lord Hammil took his seat, the advisor started to speak.

“I am aware that you were supposed to see Her Majesty, but I am here to speak on her behalf. Here are the letters of marque for the following ships and their captains. As always, these men can’t be punished for their crimes if they are captured. The queen looks highly upon these men and their crews to help keep her enemies at bay, as well as to fill her coffers.” Lord Havenor handed papers to Lord Hammil, who perused them quickly.

“I see that she has given Captain Riveri a letter of marque. I thought she said that she was never going to provide him with one?” Lord Havenor rose from his chair and walked slowly around the room.

“Yes, I know she said that at one time or another, but the daring man came to see her and well, let’s say that she was quite satisfied with what he had to say.” Lord Hammil raised his eyebrows, understanding what the advisor had meant. “He has also been doing special favors for our dear queen for the past year, which has convinced her of his loyalty and devotion. The captain is an intelligent man and has been using his talents and ship wisely. Regardless of my opinion of the man—which the queen will not listen to—he will serve her well and has earned his position of freedom—or so I am told.” Lord Havenor took a deep breath before continuing, trying to remove the disdain for Captain Riveri in his tone.

“I feel that Captain Riveri is going to be very useful to our cause, which is why I am appointing him to you. The queen needs you to sail to Port Royal and search for a particular item for her. Riveri knows the man who has this particular trinket. You see, it is a long crystal about the size of my pinkie finger and it has a mate. When these two pieces are united it becomes a key. This key opens a vault that was built by the Spanish many years ago. The vault holds unspeakable fortunes, which would explain our desire to have it. Many have tried to open this vault, but without the key, there are many traps and dangers that surround it. What that means, I have no idea. Your guess would be as good as mine at this point.”

“Who is the man that has the crystal?” asked Lord Hammil, who was listening carefully to every word the advisor was saying.

“Captain Ditarius has the crystal in his possession, but only one of the pieces. We feel that he knows who keeps the other. I have received word that one of his men has been captured by the Governor of Port Royal and is to be hanged. However, the governor has agreed to turn the man over to us until we have no more use for him. Then we will have the honor of killing him ourselves. He knows where the captain is hiding, but will not confess. Even torturing has not loosened his tongue. You will be sailing there in a few days. I am sorry that you will have to leave the day after announcing your engagement at your ball, but duty calls.” Lord Hammil nodded his head at the advisor understanding what he needed to do.

“Whatever Your Majesty wishes for me to do, I will do gladly. I have an estate on the island of New Providence and will arrange to stay there until we find Captain Ditarius and the other crystal. Where is the vault located?”

“Our sources say the vault is located in, or somewhere near, Nombre de Dios, which is near Panama. The vault is said to be buried into the side of one of the mountain ranges. Years ago the Spanish sailed to Nombre de Dios and picked up shipments of gold and silver. Twice a year they picked up the shipments that were dropped off in Panama and taken by mules to the little town. Here is a map to help you and more information about the crystal. What we do not have or know anything about, is how to open the door of the vault. There is a special way, but no one knows how, so you will need to find that out as well. Here is a pouch of coins to pay for your journey, and the queen would like you to bring back whatever you find. She will reward you handsomely for your patriotism.” Lord Hammil accepted the pouch and the map thankfully.

“Captain Riveri is down at the harbor waiting for your instruction. He only knows that he is to take you to Port Royal and help you with whatever needs you desire. He is not to know the entire purpose of your journey. He needs to be kept ignorant of some facts.”

“He is the captain of the ship, he will need to be informed,” urged Lord Hammil.

“Let me briefly explain to you why you must keep some things from him. If Captain Riveri discovers the identity of the person you are after, or any of the information that I have just told you, he will prevent you from reaching your goal. He will feel honor bound because of his close relationship with Captain Ditarius. Personally, I hope he does, for it would give me an excuse to take away the letter of marque he has worked so hard to attain. He feels he’s invincible, and I wish to crush him like rocks beneath my feet, just to show him how human he is.” Lord Havenor had a crazed expression upon his face, then it vanished as quickly as it was revealed. Lord Hammil knew the reason for the man’s distaste for the captain, for it mirrored his own.

“Unfortunately, he is aware that if he does betray us in anyway, we will revoke his letter of marque, and that we will hunt him down like the pirate he is. Knowing this, I am also sure that he will do as he is told and will walk a straight line. The man will not make a mistake, I guarantee it. He has too much to lose and he knows it. However, if you can think of a way to break him, by all means—” Lord Havenor let the rest of his words go unspoken, but Lord Hammil understood the implication. “Now, he has many men and a large ship. He will be able to handle any attacks that may come upon you. Good luck on your journey.” Lord Havenor bowed his head to Lord Hammil in farewell. Lord Hammil stood, grabbed all the papers he acquired during his meeting and held them underneath his arm.

“There is one more thing before you go. Who is the woman you chose for your bride? The queen wishes to bless you with many gifts upon your vows.” Lord Hammil smiled at the advisor and replied, “Her name is Miranda Smyth. She is a charming and beautiful woman. Her father is a traveler. I believe you have met her before, at Somerby’s affair a couple of weeks ago?” The advisor only smiled and nodded his head.

“I remember it quite well. She’s an enchanting creature indeed, a real beauty. Well, here is my wedding gift to you ahead of time. I believe you will find it most useful.” Lord Hammil grabbed the parchment wrapped with a pretty red ribbon from the advisor and thanked him profusely for his kindness. He then turned away from the advisor to face the door, and after making sure that he had all of his papers, left the room. Lord Havenor was smiling evilly upon Lord Hammil’s exit as if he were a cat eagerly awaiting his prey.