Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
Thy love unto me now is dearer than life,
And happie am I since thou wilt be my wife,
And while I’m on shore still with thee I will stay,
Imbracing thy charms, love, by night and by day. . .
— ANONYMOUS, “BILLY THE MIDSHIPMAN’S WELCOME HOME”
With a crisp snap, the Satyr’s snowy sails caught the breeze, and the ship pulled away from Sao Nicolau.
Standing at the helm, Gideon steered the ship toward England with building impatience.
It had taken him nearly three weeks to get this far.
The ship hadn’t been in any shape for a long journey, so they’d wasted valuable time in careening it and tarring the rigging before they could even leave Atlantis.
Then once they’d reached Santiago, they’d had to lay in supplies and a cargo to help them pass for a merchant ship when they sailed into English waters.
They’d also had to see to the needs of the eleven women, and their children, who’d chosen to leave Atlantis. Eight of the women had wished to take passage elsewhere from Santiago. He’d had to find them lodgings and arrange passage on other ships. All of that had taken time.
The other three were aboard the Satyr. They’d insisted on returning to England despite the risk of being caught again.
Among them were Molly, little Jane, and Molly’s newborn.
He fully intended to see that Molly was reunited with her husband, no matter what it took.
She wanted to bring her husband back to Atlantis, and he’d agreed to that, as long as the man wanted to come.
He found it gratifying that in the end, only eleven women had wanted to leave. At least it wasn’t so bad as he had feared. Most had been content with the island, despite the bad beginning he’d given them. And of those who’d stayed, most had taken husbands.
Screening his eyes from the morning sun, he gauged the distance around the island’s peninsula and tacked into the wind.
He hoped to make England in no more than two weeks, despite having to travel against the trade winds.
The Satyr was traveling light, after all, with just a token cargo and a skeleton crew.
He hadn’t wanted to risk any more of his men than was necessary if he or the ship were captured.
The few men who’d agreed to sail hadn’t minded the risk.
They were men of daring, who for one reason or another had wanted to see England.
A couple even intended on finding wives to bring back to Atlantis.
“It feels good to be sailing again, doesn’t it?” Barnaby said. Gideon glanced at his first mate. Barnaby was one of those who’d come because he enjoyed danger. Sometimes Gideon doubted the man would ever really settle down.
“Yes, it does feel good,” Gideon replied, but only half-meant it. Although he loved the sea as much as any sailor, he’d grown to love Atlantis more. Already he missed the feel of sand beneath his bare feet, the chatter of the children playing in the stream, and the woodsy scent of the forest.
But perhaps he only missed those things because he’d shared them with Sara. It was Sara he missed most of all.
“What do the men think of my changing the rules concerning the women?” Gideon asked. It was something he’d wondered about. None had been courageous enough to broach the subject during his foul mood after Sara had left.
Barnaby leaned against the rail with a thoughtful expression. “The men are as soft-hearted as you, apparently. They seem to approve. I guess they decided you were right—that a lifetime with an unwilling wife wasn’t a pleasant prospect.”
“I wish I’d realized it sooner.” Before he’d driven Sara beyond his reach. Before he’d fallen in love with a prickly reformer who’d probably rather have him thrashed for kidnapping the women than marry him.
No matter. He could endure a thrashing if he had to. As long as she married him afterwards.
And if she didn’t? If she proved to be fickle after all? If she threw his proposal of marriage back in his face and announced that she thought herself well rid of him? What then?
The possibility had tortured him throughout the past three weeks.
He’d continually plagued Petey and Ann with requests to recount what had transpired between Sara and her brother, yet despite their constant insistence that she’d been forced he didn’t feel completely easy.
A great deal could have happened in the two months since she’d been gone.
She might have decided that her life on Atlantis had been nothing more than a disturbing dream. She might not even want to see him.
Yet he had to risk it, even if it meant ending up like his father—tormented by memories of lost love every waking hour.
Barnaby let out a low whistle at Gideon’s side, jarring him from his dark thoughts. “Look there, Captain. ’Tis a shame we aren’t roving anymore. Now there’s the perfect prize. An English merchantman.”
Gideon followed Barnaby’s gaze. A large ship was sailing into the Cape Verde Islands under an English flag. Sitting low in the water, she looked sweet and plump and ready for the picking. “Aye, a pretty prize indeed. But not pretty enough to tempt me. I’m done with piracy, Barnaby. For good.”
“Are you?” Barnaby’s eyes narrowed. “This ship may change your mind.”
Gideon turned back to the helm. “Nothing will change my mind,”
“Look at the ship’s name, and then tell me you don’t want to board this particular ship.”
With impatience, Gideon scanned the ship. Written in plain gold letters was the name Defiant. He reached for the spyglass.
“Wasn’t that the name of the Earl of Blackmore’s ship,” Barnaby asked, “the one that took Miss Willis away?”
Gideon nodded as he swept the glass over the decks. He saw nothing to indicate it, but he couldn’t help hope that it bore Sara. Could she already be—
No, not so soon. Not with a brother like hers.
“I doubt there are two Defiants with reason to sail in these waters. I’ll wager that damned Englishman has returned to finish where he left off the last time he was at Atlantis.
Since Sara wouldn’t let him level the island then, he probably left her in England and came back to do it without her.
” A grim smile touched his lips. “He’s in for a surprise.
I’ll take his ship before I let him go within a mile of Atlantis. ”
“Take his ship? With what? We scarcely have any crew to speak of.”
“When have desperate odds ever stopped us?” Gideon surveyed the other ship’s crew through the spyglass, wondering why there were so few.
“We have plenty of cannon, and his ship doesn’t look well-manned.
We can take him in a sea battle, I’ll wager.
If he refuses to come to and let us board him, I swear I’ll blow fifty holes in his hull until I flush the coward out of hiding.
If he’s aboard, I’ll make him tell me where she is.
If he’s not, I’ll hold the ship for ransom until he gives her to me. Either way, I will take his ship.”
“You’re quite mad, you know.” Barnaby shrugged. “All the same, I do miss a good fight at sea.”
“It’s a shame we destroyed our old Jolly Roger,”Gideon muttered.
After a long pause, Barnaby stammered, “Um . . . we didn’t exactly . . . that is—”
Gideon stared at his first mate. “I ordered it destroyed at the end of our last voyage.”
“You did. But . . . well . . . I thought you might change your mind, so I kept it. It’s in my cabin.”
Gideon suppressed a smile. “I ought to sentence you to sanding the decks for a week for disobeying orders, Mr. Kent. But I suppose I can overlook the transgression this time.” He returned to observing the Defiant through the spyglass. “Tell me, have we ever taken one of Blackmore’s ships?”
Barnaby grinned. “I don’t recall ever hearing that name spoken by any of the crews we’ve . . . er . . . entertained.”
“Then it’s high time we took one, don’t you think?”
“Aye, Captain. Mustn’t let the good earl get too cocky about his prowess at sea.”
“Indeed.” Gideon set down the spyglass with a smile. “This earl definitely needs taking down a peg. And you and I are just the men to do it.”
Sara sat at breakfast in the saloon of the Defiant with Lord and Lady Dryden and Jordan.
She picked absently at her food, too excited to eat.
They were nearing the Cape Verde Islands, two days sail from Atlantis.
She could hardly believe Jordan had finally agreed to transport her to the island.
But he’d had little choice once the marquess and his wife had brought pressure to bear on him.
If he hadn’t agreed, the marquess would have chartered a ship himself to go to the island, taking Sara with him.
And Jordan never liked relinquishing control.
Sara had come to like Lady Dryden a great deal on this trip.
And her husband, too. Although the man was obviously several years older than his wife, Lord Dryden had none of the pretensions that men of his rank and age often possessed.
Indeed, his regal bearing, aristocratic features, and warm smile reminded Sara very much of her late stepfather.
Now, the other three were conversing on a subject that might interest her if thoughts of Gideon didn’t preoccupy her. He was almost within her grasp. She had so much to tell him.
Her only fear was he wouldn’t give her the chance to speak. Oh, if he refused to see her, to hear her out, she would never be able to bear it.
The door to the saloon swung open, and the first mate rushed in. “My lord, there’s a ship to starboard, gaining on us fast! And she’s flying the Jolly Roger!”
As Jordan let out a curse, Sara leapt up from her chair so quickly she knocked it over.
She ran into her cabin. The others came in behind her as she gazed out the porthole, straining to catch a glimpse of the ship that was well on their heels.
Then she saw the figurehead. It was the Satyr. There was no mistaking that.
“Gideon,” she breathed, her heart pounding faster.