Part Two: Taming The Pirate—Chapter Five

“Nora, I would like to speak with Johnson before we leave the ship.”

“May I ask why, m’lady?”

Rebecca set aside her teacup. “I wish to discuss a business matter with him before we meet Elizabeth.”

“Of course.” Nora hurried from the cabin, exiting through the hastily repaired door.

Rebecca leaned back in the hard chair, shifting restlessly in the unaccustomed encumbrance of the rose-colored day gown, confining corset, and heavy slip. Instead of the sturdy boots she had gotten used to wearing, dainty silk slippers stretched across her feet. A parasol sat across the bed, awaiting her departure from the Margaret’s cabin. Nora had carefully groomed her black locks into a prim roll, adding only a pink barrette to soften the starkness. Once again, she was Lady Rebecca Stanhope.

She sighed, fiddling with the white gloves lying by her china teacup. Why didn’t she feel like Lady Rebecca? For two weeks, Christoph’s image had preyed on her mind. Images of their day together haunted her sleep, causing her to awaken wet and ready for him, only to discover his absence once again.

She had meant nothing to him, so why did he continue to plague her? Well, he had left the necklace, but that didn’t mean anything. It might have been a simple oversight on his part.

She frowned, knowing how ridiculous that was. A man driven by profit and plundering didn’t accidentally leave a diamond necklace in a secure place. Again, she was forced to wonder about his motivation for allowing her to keep the heirloom.

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. “Come.” She looked up from the gloves as Nora reentered the cabin ahead of Johnson, who removed his cap.

He was tall and tanned, with white-blond hair, a heavenly smile, and a dimple in his cheeks. He had worked his way from cabin boy to second mate during his ten-year tenure with Stanhope Shipping. He was also the only member of the crew who did not openly leer at her now or treat her with less respect than due a woman of her station. “Ye sent for me, m’lady?”

“Thank you for coming. I want to discuss a business matter with you.” She pleated the gloves before she saw Nora’s reproving glance and dropped the delicate silk scraps onto the table again. “When the Margaret returns to England, you will be first mate.”

He frowned. “But, m’lady, that is Stokes’s position.”

She nodded. “As of today, Stokes will no longer be with Stanhope, and most of the other crew will be dismissed as well. I am charging you with the duty of finding a reliable crew who will respect the fact that a lady is on board. They should be prepared to accept direction from me.”

He folded the wool hat in his hands. “Begging yer pardon, miss, but what will the men do?”

Rebecca forced back a niggle of pity. “I do not know, but I cannot tolerate their behavior and wagging tongues.” She looked past his shoulder. “It is not just that they know about the attack on our ship and subsequent matters. The men have treated me with an appalling lack of courtesy and decorum these past two weeks.” She shook her head. “I have feared for my safety.”

His worried expression faded a little. “I see. Why are ye retaining me?”

“You have been the most loyal of the crew and deserve the recognition.”

He nodded his head. “I shall see to it. Do ye want me to speak with Stokes?”

“Nay, I shall do so on my way off the ship.”

“Yes, m’lady.” He bowed awkwardly at the waist. “I shan’t let you down.”

She waved him away, sagging against the chair as soon as he closed the door behind him. “Well, Nora, what do you think?”

Nora hesitated. “I understand, m’lady, but I fear Stokes shan’t take it well.”

A hard laugh escaped Rebecca. “No, I suspect he will not.” She slipped on the gloves. “Come, Nora. Let us enjoy solid land for a few days before we return to this cursed ship.” She scooped the parasol from the bed before exiting the cabin.

When they emerged on the deck, she saw Stokes standing near the wheel, pointing to the mainsail, and yelling at two men hanging from the pole. She mustered her courage and strode toward him. “Stokes.”

He barely turned in her direction, ignoring the politeness of a greeting completely.

She spoke his name more formally, finally getting him to turn. He wore a look of irritation, and something else. She barely restrained a shudder as his lewd eyes slid over her. “Your employment with Stanhope has ended.”

His mouth dropped open. “What?”

“Your services are no longer required.” She held out her hand for the list she had made last night. Nora handed it to her quickly. She read the other names, then looked up at Stokes again. “These men are all terminated, as well. You shall see to the duty before vacating the ship.” She attempted to hand him the list.

“I cannot read.”

“Very well. You are to dismiss all but the second mate and cabin boy.”

“Ye cannot fire me. I am first mate. Practically cap’n of this vessel.”

She glared at him. “All but Johnson and Hews are to go with you. Now, clear off my ship.”

He took a step toward her, with his fists balled up.

Rebecca forced her spine to remain straight. “Shall I call for the port authority?” She gestured to a group of men wearing the militia uniform. “I am certain they would be pleased to escort you off the Margaret.”

He backed off, but his eyes bored into hers. “This ain’t over, m’lady.”

She curled a lip at him but didn’t deign to respond. Nora tapped her arm, pointing to her sister’s carriage, and they left the ship.

When she set foot upon the busy Boston Harbor, Rebecca’s head spun for a moment. Her legs seemed to be made of jelly, and it took her a while to adjust. She gripped Nora’s arm, smiling as she realized her companion was in much the same state. By the time they had acclimated to ground that didn’t rock under them, Elizabeth was hurrying toward them, followed by a burly man.

She embraced her blond-haired sister, frowning when she felt her sister’s rounded stomach. “You have gained weight.”

Elizabeth blushed. “You are so impolite, sister.” She leaned closer, whispering, “I am with child.”

“Oh, Betsy.” She hugged her sister again.

“Shhh, do not call me that,” Elizabeth said as she pulled away. “That silly childhood name is best left in childhood.”

Rebecca giggled. “Now that you are a mature lady, of course.”

Elizabeth hugged Nora before she grasped her sister’s hand. “Come on. Philip is waiting at home.”

Rebecca followed her sister through the busy docks as Elizabeth’s guard and driver shadowed them. She tried to conjure a mental picture of Philip, but their acquaintance had been brief. She had met him the day he married her sister, and once more on the day of their departure for Boston, three years ago. Mama did not approve of him, so he had not been a frequent visitor. Nor had Elizabeth been after their hasty marriage.

They climbed into the carriage with the man’s assistance and held on while they jostled through the streets of Boston. Rebecca couldn’t keep her eyes from the buildings sprouting up all over the port city. “I never imagined it would be so like London.”

Elizabeth nodded. “A great deal is different, but there are many similarities. For example, Hardwick’s Shoe Emporium is two blocks over.”

Rebecca shook her head. “How can that be? Mr. Hardwick is back in London.”

“His cousin runs the business, silly.”

“Oh.”

“How was the voyage? Was it simply awful?”

She shrugged. “It is over now. I can assure you I am not looking forward to the voyage home.”

Elizabeth nodded. “Perhaps you will not return to England.”

Rebecca’s eyebrows arched. “Not go home?”

Her sister laughed. “Surely you knew Mama wished for me to find you a husband? Why else would she have allowed you to captain Father’s ship?”

She blinked. “Mama wants you to play matchmaker?”

Elizabeth nodded. “She says you have exhausted the supply of suitable men in London with your callous attitude.”

“I am not callous. Merely uninterested in their boring prattle, inane chit-chat, and clumsy attempts to steal kisses.” She fought down a blush as she remembered Christoph’s lips on hers. No. She mustn’t think about him.

“I shall endeavor to find you less boring suitors during your stay.”

“It shall only be a few days, so you are welcome to try.” Rebecca yawned, not bothering to hide it behind her glove.

Elizabeth shook her head. “I have Mama’s missive at home. I am to keep you throughout the remainder of the year.”

“Four months?” She frowned at her sister’s phrasing. “Am I a lost puppy that you are to keep me?”

Her sister sighed heavily. “Do not be so prickly, Rebecca. Men find it unbecoming.”

“Not all men.”

Elizabeth laughed again. “What do you know of men? Only what I have told you in confidence, and you refused to believe me.”

Rebecca subsided into a grumpy silence as the carriage drew to a halt on a street lined with tall, sleek homes rising three stories in the air. The one they were parked before was plain white, but ornate etchings in the wood and moldings gave it personality. The front door swung open, and a man strode toward them.

Elizabeth hurried from the coach to meet him halfway, throwing her arms around him. He could only be Philip.

“They must still be very much in love,” she said quietly.

“Aye, m’lady.”

She sighed. “To have love like that must be most wonderful.”

Nora gave a wistful sigh too. “Yes, m’lady.”

They exited the carriage with the driver’s assistance and hurried forward to be reintroduced to Philip.

He had grown somewhat plump, if her memory served, but otherwise looked the same. His brown eyes still twinkled, and his long, black hair was still worn caught back in a black bow. There was a pleasant flush to his cheeks, and his hands were soft when he grasped Rebecca’s between them. “What happened to little Rebecca?”

She blushed. “I have grown up.”

“It cannot be that only three years have passed.” He eyed her from the top of her head to the tip of her pink slipper. “You were a gangly child when I last saw you, but now you are a lady.”

Her blush intensified.

Elizabeth laughed. “She was a child, dear.” She threaded her arm through his. “Rebecca is seventeen now.”

He blinked, giving him an owlish look. “I say, has that much time truly passed?”

“Yes, darling.” She turned from her husband. “Come inside and see your quarters. You will rest tonight, and tomorrow we shop.”

Philip groaned. “I say, Elizabeth, if you keep up this ghastly habit of spending money like water, I shall prove your mother’s prediction true.”

She giggled. “I shan’t send you into the poor house, Philip.”

He patted her hand where it lay on his arm. “It would be worth the poor house to ensure your happiness.”

Rebecca watched their exchange with an uncomfortable pricking at her eyes. Normally, she had no patience for tender sentiments, often expressed so eloquently by fops who had nothing better to do with their days than compose sonnets. However, the affection between her sister and brother-in-law was palpable. Would she ever find a man like that, one she could truly love?