Chapter 43
“Why didn’t you run?”
“I already told you,” Mary said with steady calmness as she and Thomas made their way toward the Ranger in the velvet night. The fresh air offered a welcomed respite from the nausea that had been unrelenting since the despicable scene in the square.
Because it wasn’t right, how they treated Anne.
Because I can’t stand by and stay silent.
Because I’m sick of running.
“It’s not too late to stop. To turn around,” Thomas said.
“We can’t miss the meeting.”
“Oh, yes we can.”
Mary halted in her tracks. Thomas stepped in front of her and held her shoulders. “Please, Mary. Think about this. Our risky position. You’ve drawn more attention to yourself, and us, in a week than in the last three years we’ve been on this island. People are watching. They talk.”
“I know,” Mary said, reaching out a hand and tenderly touching the stubble of his cheek. “But running away from Governor Rogers today wouldn’t have solved anything.” Neither would running from the remaining days of her life.
Thomas sighed with heaviness.
“I know you’re afraid,” Mary said with compassion. “I am, too. But Thomas, I’ve spent too many years in the shadows of fear. And if it’s true …” She took his hand and moved it to her stomach. “If it’s true that I’m with child, it changes everything.”
He turned away. She didn’t have to see his expression in the dark to picture the lines of worry etched across his brow.
Thomas could have his own feelings, but she must be allowed to have hers.
The more it seemed possible, the more a billow of hope rose in her heart—something she hadn’t felt since Bjorn.
Bjorn would not want her to wallow in grief. To continue living a half life when it was he who’d escorted her out of the land of secrets into an expanse of brilliant light.
“With effort, I pass as a man now,” Mary said.
“We scrape together the rent. But what happens when I cannot bind my breasts any longer? When my stomach swells and I can’t do what other women do—layering skirts and aprons to hide their bellies?
When Rogers with all of his morals hears of this disturbing change?
We can’t even afford the passage off this island. ”
He squared his shoulders, but she could tell she had his ear.
“Captain Rackham will take you again,” Mary said, “or he won’t.
But by the end of the night, we’ll know.
” She brushed her fingers against his. “Whatever he decides does not define you. No one can brand you a thief forever. People change. The truth is in your heart alone.”
The salty breeze rustled her hair and he squeezed her wrist. “And if Rackham is only willing to take one of us?”
“If it comes to that, we’ll forge another plan. But no sense in fretting until we know for sure.”
They gripped hands with renewed strength, then continued toward the docks.
The dozen faces crammed into the captain’s quarters of the Ranger glowed in the flickering lantern light, their frowns and displeasure vivid. Mary and Thomas stood at the back of the gathering, behind the map table.
“What now, Captain?”
Rackham, with a bottle in hand, paced across the rug on the floorboard. He wore a yellow calico shirt that had seen cleaner days. He smelled of rum, and his eyes blazed red with drink. “We arm ourselves and get her back by any means necessary,” he growled.
Mary scanned the cramped room and saw that the listeners were not pleased with this answer.
“Rackham,” she said, speaking like a confident man, “with all due respect, Anne has proven herself capable of getting away on her own.”
He paused and his gaze hardened. “She’s unarmed.”
Did men only think of power in terms of weapons? It continually amazed her. “She gave a convincing act. I suspect Anne would have kept it up all the way to wherever she’s staying. They may loosen their security. She’ll slip away at the first opportunity.”
Rackham flexed his jaw. “And if not?”
“And if not, then we make new plans. But right now, we have to create a plan worthy of Anne’s escape.”
A grunt of agreement rose from the motley crew.
“I won’t stomach a New Providence run by Governor Rogers,” one man said. He was old enough to be a grandfather, with brown skin leathered by the sun. “I’d rather see ’er shrinking away forever on the horizon or swallowed up in flames than in the hands of the king’s puppet.”
“Aye! I’m with old Fenwick,” another piped up. “Rogers’s stunt in the square today is ’bout more than just a lass. Nassau has fallen. Freedom to govern ourselves has fallen.”
“Who among us will be hauled off next?”
“Nothing to stop him from tossing anyone aside or up the gallows at his pleasure!” roared another, punching the air with a pale fist.
Mary caught Thomas’s eye; he still hadn’t said a word since the secret meeting began.
“If everyone is already suspect and in danger,” she said, “why don’t we give the good governor what he wants and all go back ‘on the account’?
Take up the Articles of Agreement again and turn pirate?
That is what this meeting is really about, is it not? ”
All eyes looked at her. But none, she observed, showed displeasure or surprise.
“Read is right,” Rackham said. “Everyone here has served under the Articles. We made more coin. Worked together. Trusted each other.” At this, Thomas looked away, but Rackham did not notice.
Mary’s pulse skipped. Six months, maybe even less, under a lauded captain like Rackham might get her enough savings to settle in a quiet town, one she’d never have to leave.
To raise a child in the way Ma would have done if they’d had the means.
Thomas could come along if he wanted to, or not—he had to make his own choices.
But a child deserved solid ground beneath its feet.
Finally, at long last, Mary felt a bearing in her heart.
A navigational point to guide her energies.
She’d make herself indispensable before they discovered her secret and condition.
“That would stick it to Rogers!” someone yelled out, raising a bottle. “Rub his nose in his own filth.”
“The people might rise again—see he ain’t so high and mighty.”
“The Ranger is too well known,” someone offered up, a large man with a dark, shaved head. “It would be impossible to avoid detection.”
“Aye, Corner,” Rackham said with sorrow. “That thinking makes you a loyal quartermaster. We’ll have to leave the Ranger behind, same as we did the Kingston a few years back. But”—he paused—“I have my sights on another sloop.”
“Better be fast.”
“Oh, that it is. But before I divulge more, I have to know: is everyone here willing and able to serve in this brotherhood? Of breaking their pardon with the king? You wouldn’t have come here tonight if it was a risk you wanted to avoid—that much is evident.
But all the same, anyone can leave now. By staying, you swear your loyalty to this new crew and agree to help draft the Articles we will collectively abide by. ”
Mary surveyed the sailors. Mostly young.
Desperate. Tar-stained fingers. Threadbare clothes covered in patches.
Radicals, no doubt. Down on their luck, high on their ideals and sense of rightness.
Were they capable? Experienced? Rackham clearly hadn’t the time or luxury to be picky.
No one protested or raised a hand. No one left the room.
“That’s a promise, then. We’ll do everything according to the Articles—by voting—starting with our next move,” Rackham said. He threw a map down on the table and stretched it out for all to see. “See this cove outside of Nassau Harbor?”
A murmur of acknowledgment as they leaned to look.
Madness.
“Isn’t that,” Corner began with a hitch in his voice, “where Captain Ham keeps the William?”