Chapter Nine #2
“I hired a cabin boy down at the King’s Head.”
“So, everything is in order to be able to leave by dawn then?” Mr. Thompson noticed her but didn’t say anything.
“Yes. Preferably sooner. If it weren’t for this blasted party, I’d have pushed to leave tonight.” Lieutenant Caldwell stood still for a moment. “Look, I don’t mind you putting your foolhardy neck on the line, but I can’t stomach the thought of Samantha crossing paths with Thorne again.”
Mr. Thompson’s hands clenched into fists. “You think I don’t feel the same?”
Lieutenant Caldwell crossed his arms. “So, tell her to stay. You’re her husband after all.”
His friend snorted. “You know as well as I do that she wouldn’t listen one lick if I commanded that of her.” He swiveled his gaze to Josephine. “Miss Montclair, so good to see you again. You look absolutely lovely.”
Her reply was lost as the lieutenant turned and the weight of her recent embarrassments collided with the flutter of nerves his nearness stirred. He stood silent, his eyes traveling over her.
After a few moments passed, Mr. Thompson cleared his throat. “I hope you’ve managed to stay out of the Ross’s fountain.” He gave her a good-natured wink, sending heat shooting up her cheeks.
A flash of amusement colored the lieutenant’s eyes a darker blue, but he remained quiet.
Mr. Thompson slapped his friend’s shoulder. “I had better find Samantha and ask her to dance before she thinks I’ve forgotten about her. Why don’t you two take a spin around the floor as well?”
Lieutenant Caldwell opened his mouth, but Mr. Thompson winked again and strode away, leaving the two of them alone. He shook his head and turned to her once more. “What do you say, Miss Montclair? Shall we?”
Josephine stared at his outstretched hand and her throat went dry. She glanced out at the busy dance floor, her breaths coming shallow. Could she manage in such tight quarters?
“Unless, of course you would rather not?” He looked somewhat hopeful.
She should let him go. Clearly, he didn’t want to. But the thought of sharing even one dance with him had her heart soaring. Never mind if she wouldn’t see him again. In fact, that made it better. She could fully enjoy herself without wondering what would come next.
With a determined swallow, she set her hand in his. “I would like that.”
His fingers flexed around hers as he nodded. “Very well.” He guided them out onto the floor.
Abigail had been right. Even if she hadn’t known this dance, Lieutenant Caldwell expertly guided her through each step.
She fought the urge to close her eyes and lose herself to the magic of it all, instead focusing on each twist and turn, the way the light sparkled from his eyes, and the delightful thrill that shot up her arm each time he took her hand in his. Her lips curved.
When she glanced up at the lieutenant, his face had softened and he wore an amused smile. “You’re enjoying yourself.”
“I’m starting to feel as though I’ve been cheated in life growing up on Tortuga. How amazing it must be to go to these kinds of parties and dance whenever you’d like.”
His lips pressed together briefly. “Truth be told, I try very hard not to come to these events.”
Her eyes widened. “You have no idea how lucky you are to have…” She glanced around them. “All this at your fingertips.”
“It grows old.” They turned and his hand shifted at her waist, sending a shiver up her side. “After a while, they all feel the same.”
She lifted her chin. “I don’t think the magic would ever fade for me.”
“It’s easy to say that at your first party.” His smile had returned. “I wrote your father today. Luckily, there was a merchant making a run to Jamaica that I was able to convince to make a stop on Tortuga.”
Josephine’s heart fell and she missed a step. “I wish you wouldn’t have.”
He raised a brow. “What would you have had me do? It is my responsibility to make sure you get home safely.”
“I would have been happy to stay until you return.”
His lips tightened as she followed his lead, her skirts swaying with each measured movement. When he reached for her waist again, his touch light but firm, his voice lowered. “And what if I don’t return?”
The cloud she’d been floating on evaporated as she stared up at him. “Why would you say such a thing?”
They moved in perfect time, the rhythm of their steps as deliberate as his words. “It’s the truth, and you of all people should know it. Didn’t you warn me once before how dangerous Thorne is? Do you think that’s changed?”
She blinked as a stab of coldness slid through her. “You will be careful, won’t you?”
His eyes pressed shut. “I’m sorry. It was not appropriate for me to speak like that. Of course I will be.”
Josephine forced a smile. “No need to apologize. I’ve heard much worse in my days.”
The song ended and the lieutenant guided them off the floor. He squeezed her hands and bowed.
She took a deep breath. “I suppose this is goodbye then, isn’t it?”
He peered down at her, the seas in his eyes a swirling maelstrom. “Yes.”
“It feels a bit redundant to say, but I wish you good luck in your hunt for Thorne.”
His lips twitched. “Thank you.”
“I’m glad to have met you, Lieutenant.”
This time, he did smile. “And I, you. Even if you did cause a lot of trouble.”
Her throat thickened, even though his grin held as he said it. “I hope you don’t remember me just for that.”
His eyes flashed as he locked gazes with her. “I will remember you for many things.”
Heat crept up her skin at the intensity lacing his tone. She swallowed, unable to come up with a response, but unwilling to end the conversation.
“Excuse me?” A young gentleman strode forward with a hesitant smile. “Would you like to dance?”
The lieutenant bowed. “Goodbye, Miss Montclair. Enjoy your stay in Savannah.”
She dipped in a quick curtsy. “Stay safe, Lieutenant.”
And just like that, it was goodbye for real, the man beside her offering his arm and guiding her toward the dance floor.
“Oh, Miss Montclair?”
She paused, turning back with parted lips.
“I must warn you, Savannah’s full of fountains. Be careful.” With a wink rivaling Mr. Thompson’s, he pivoted and strode toward his friend.
Later, in the carriage, Josephine let out a sigh and wiggled her aching toes.
“Did you have fun?” Abigail gave her an expectant look.
“It was a bit like living out a dream. I never could have imagined a party so grand. But my feet do hurt.”
“Wait till you go to one of the Montelet’s parties. They live just out of town on a grand estate. Theirs are the biggest and most elaborate of them all.” Abigail grinned. “And you’ll be up past midnight dancing.”
A warm glow spread through Josephine’s chest. Tonight had been magical—an event she would remember the rest of her life. The rest of the ride passed by in a blur as she categorized and filed away each precious memory.
After Abigail bid her goodnight, Josephine walked out onto her balcony, gazing into the darkness.
All the comforting sounds of a Caribbean night were missing; no tree frogs, and all the insect noises had distinct differences.
The foreignness of this land wrapped around her, crushing her lungs, until her breaths came quick and fast.
And then, far away, a familiar sound cut through the unknown.
The trill of a mockingbird.
She straightened as the song faded.
Had she imagined it?
She had come to Savannah chasing her destiny, yet now, it seemed further from reach than ever before.
Her eyes narrowed as she glared out into the shadows.
Destiny be damned. How was it that women like Samantha found partners who allowed them to sail on pirate hunting missions, and here she was, still reduced to the prospect of marrying an elderly merchant?
It’s not fair. Though she felt like a child for thinking it, it was the truth.
Once her father received Lieutenant Caldwell’s message, he would make sure she returned to Tortuga straightaway.
She likely would have not much more than a week to even enjoy the company of Abigail.
Her lips pulled up in a snarl. So little time.
Why shouldn’t she be able to experience the thrill of adventure?
Because she was a woman? Hell, she could hold her own against pirates.
She knew how they behaved and reacted better than most American men could claim.
And they didn’t scare her. Well, not in the way most normal people were scared of pirates.
Frustration coiled as her jaw tightened.
The spray of the sea on her face, the thunder of cannons, the chase of a prize—all denied to her for the sake of supposedly delicate womanhood.
A flutter of wings startled her and she stood still as the mockingbird perched at the corner of the railing, its head cocked to one side as it regarded her.
She held her breath, afraid to blink lest it vanish.
And then, as she stared into black eyes, a thought hit her so hard, she doubled over.
If she wasn’t in Savannah, her father couldn’t drag her home.
Her fingers curled around the stone railing, still warm from the day’s sun, and she knew what she had to do.
She hurried inside and picked up the candle next to her bed. Creeping across the hall, she knocked on Abigail’s door. A long moment passed before it cracked open.
“What’s wrong?” her friend whispered, glancing up the hall toward her father’s bedroom before opening the door wider.
Josephine strode in, coming to a stop in front of a window near the bed. “What is the King’s Head?”
Abigail scrunched her nose. “It’s a tavern down by the docks.”
“Have you ever been?”
Blue eyes went wide. “Heavens no. Respectable ladies never go there.”
Josephine stared out the window. “Do you think they gamble there?”
“Of course they do. Gambling, and worse.”
Excellent.
“Why do you ask?”
Josephine turned with a wide grin. “Because I’m going there, now.”