Chapter Five
Samantha nibbled on her lower lip while she stared at the canvas in front of her.
Angry blue lines clashed together, an appropriate representation of the turmoil raging within her. Why had her uncle lied to her about her parents’ deaths all these years?
Killed by pirates. How foolish she’d been to believe otherwise. They hadn’t been traveling on shipping business. They’d been treasure hunting.
Pirates. The word quickened her pulse. No wonder she loved the sea so much. It was in her blood.
Her uncle should have told her. All her life she’d felt so out of place on shore. If she’d known her legacy, she could have embraced it more fully. Could have used the information to convince her uncle to let her sail with his crews sooner.
She smashed her brush into a pot of grey paint and swept it across the canvas with a scowl. After she perfected the curve of a towering wave, she stared down the hillside. The trees had been clear cut here and the vista offered an unfettered view of the river below. Her lifeline to the ocean.
On the horizon, sails unfurled upon ships headed out to sea.
Somewhere out there, the Siren was anchored.
She scrunched her nose. No longer the Siren.
By now, the brigantine would have a new name and a new figurehead.
Re-christened to ward off bad luck. Any time one of her uncle’s ships engaged in a skirmish, it received a thorough transformation.
It was one of the main reasons none of their ships had ever been caught by authorities.
“It seems I was right about you after all.”
The brush slipped from Samantha’s fingers and she spun to face the lieutenant, her heart in her throat. He stood a few paces away. How did he sneak up on her? Blast.
Her mouth went dry. His cocked hat perched atop dark curls, but his usual impeccable appearance ended there.
He’d untied his cravat and it draped loosely around his neck.
The top two buttons of his shirt hung open and a few wisps of hair graced the swatch of tanned skin there.
Her eyes traveled down the lean lines of his stomach and when they lingered where his trousers stretched across his thighs, heat crept up to her ears.
She jerked her gaze away.
“I thought young ladies painted landscapes.”
She focused on the painting. “It is a landscape.”
“I’ll rephrase that. Young ladies don’t paint hurricanes.”
Samantha pulled her lips between her teeth. Young ladies also didn’t sail the seas with a bunch of so-called criminals. Or sword fight handsome lieutenants. She stared at the scene in front of her, a black sky with cresting waves heaving into the air, and shrugged.
“I was upset.”
The lieutenant stepped forward. “I hope it’s not on my account.”
A cricket chirped from the nearby grass and the breeze picked up, shifting the branches above. Dappled light slid across the lieutenant and she almost laughed at the concerned look on his face.
“Do not fret, Lieutenant. It’s not on your account.”
He smiled, his teeth even and straight. “Good, I’m not sure my pride could withstand the blow of knowing I’d caused a beautiful young lady to paint a raging storm.”
She stilled and he looked away, rubbing his neck. Good God. He was flirting with her. Best change the subject.
A faint scar twisted across the back of his hand and she pointed to it. “Where did you get your scar?”
“This one? Fighting pirates, of course.”
Of course.
“Have you ever lost a fight with a pirate?”
His eyes went dark and the smile faded. “I’ve lost several.”
“Tell me about them.”
His gaze snapped to hers. “Miss Warstein, those stories are not fit for a lady’s ears. I promise you don’t want to know.”
Samantha huffed. More likely, he didn’t want to admit he’d been beaten by a woman. Now would be the appropriate time to agree and end this conversation, but something in his eyes tugged at her, and lord help her, she didn’t want it to end.
She stood and smoothed out the pale yellow skirts of her day dress. Thank goodness she’d given in to Anna and forgone her usual breeches.
“Do you think I could fight a pirate?”
“Don’t ever suggest such a thing.” Alarm filled his eyes, and she blinked at the intensity in the words.
He grabbed her by the shoulders and she bit back a gasp at the forward behavior even as her pulse jumped. “Miss Warstein, if you ever found yourself among pirates . . .” He trailed off and dropped his hands. “May God help you.”
Samantha bit her tongue. If only he knew. Still, the solemnness lacing his voice sent a chill through her.
He waved a hand down the path. “Walk with me?”
She fell into step with him and adjusted her straw hat when they left the shadows of the tree.
“Enough talk of pirates. Tell me what has made you upset. Perhaps I can help.”
He flashed her a roguish smile that made her stomach flop.
No wonder every woman in town fawned over him.
She pulled her shoulders back. This was her enemy.
Two of her men had died at the hands of his crew.
And countless others had hanged—or would yet hang—because of his mission.
He had no right to come here and charm her.
She should leave. But first, she would firmly make sure he never put two and two together.
“I’m afraid the two go hand in hand, Lieutenant.” She quickened her pace and angled toward the house. “You see, last night, I found out I was lied to about my parents’ deaths.”
He frowned. “I heard they died in a shipwreck.”
A rush of heat slid through her veins. “So did I. But we both heard wrong.” Her hand trembled and she clenched her fingers into a fist. “They were killed by pirates.”
The lieutenant came to a stop. “So, this is why you’ve been asking so many questions.”
She stood silent and his forest-hued eyes widened a fraction. “Miss Warstein, I hope you do not harbor any foolish notions of revenge.”
“I thought you said they were all a bunch of cowards.”
“That they are. But I’ve learned that cowards can be the cruelest of them all.” His eyes softened. “Trust me, Miss Warstein, I promise your uncle hid the truth from you to soften the blow. What young girl would want to hear her parents died that way?”
“I would have.” Her words came in a rush.
“It’s easy to say that now. But if you had known, what could you have done, other than be angry?”
Her spine went straight. “I don’t like being lied to.”
He pulled his hat off and passed it between his hands. “Nobody does. But sometimes, I wish I hadn’t been told.” She frowned and he continued. “You see, Miss Warstein, my own mother died at the hands of pirates when I was a boy.”
Her hand flew to cover her mouth. “I’m so sorry, Lieutenant. How selfish you must think I am.”
He shook his head. “Never. But you can rest assured I will do everything in my power to make it so that other children will not have to endure what we have.”
*
Samantha examined the cargo being brought aboard, checking each item off on her ledger. Griff stood next to her.
“You’re lucky to have a second chance.”
She let out a huff. “Shuttling crates of goods to The Bahamas is hardly a second chance.”
No matter how hard she focused on the sheet of parchment in her hands, her eyes kept sneaking a peek at the ship anchored on the other side of the river.
The Falcon.
And each time she did, her traitorous thoughts brought her back to the garden the other day. She scowled. Not only was her enemy the bloody most handsome man in Georgia, but he had also devoted his entire life to avenging his mother’s death.
How could she blame him?
“The numbers match up.” She pushed the ledger into Griff’s hands and strode to her cabin.
Inside, she went straight to her shelf and grabbed the big conch and peeled the wax back. Once the map slid out, she unfolded it and stared at the lines. This was what her parents died for. An emptiness gnawed at her insides. Killed over a piece of parchment.
She swiped at the dampness gathering at the corners of her eyes. She may not be able to get revenge, but she could do one thing.
She could make sure they hadn’t died in vain.
Clenching the map in her hand, she charged from the room.
“Griff!” Her shout drew curious looks from the crew.
He handed the ledger to another man and approached her.
“Tell me what you know about this.” She waved the map in front of his face and his eyes widened.
He snatched it from her. “Where did you get this?”
“Uncle Henry told me to keep it safe. Little did I know, it’s the reason my parents are dead.” She spat out the last word.
He quickly folded it and glanced around. “Let’s go inside.”
When they entered her cabin, he shut the door behind them. “So, you did overhear our conversation the other night.”
“Don’t you dare lecture me on eavesdropping. If I hadn’t warned you, Lieutenant Thompson would have walked in on your little meeting.”
He stared hard at her for a long moment before his shoulders dropped. “I’m sorry you had to learn that way.”
“What happened?”
A sadness filled his eyes. “We don’t know. They didn’t return from a voyage and we went searching. Never found a trace of the ship or any survivors. Your father had been worried before they left and told your uncle someone was after the map. It’s why he left it behind.”
“Why did Uncle Henry keep it from me?” Her stomach clenched. “Why hide that they were pirates?”
Griff sighed and looked out the wall of windows. “I think he wanted to make sure that you decided your future on your own, without the influence of their legacy.”
Tears stung the corners of her eyes. “He had no right to make that decision.”
“Perhaps not, but he did it out of love.” Griff unfolded the map and laid it on her desk. “Don’t ever let anyone know you have this.”
She stepped forward and slid it until it rested in front of her. “Why not?”
Griff pushed his lips together. “This is one half of the map to Read’s Revenge. There are men out there who would kill for it—have killed for it.”
Samantha blinked. “I thought that was just a myth.” Legend said that the one who found Read’s cache would be the richest person alive.
Supposedly stashed away a hundred years before in a time when pirates ruled the sea without opposition, amassing their fortunes from the Spanish fleet, there’d never been evidence it existed.
Until now.
Mary Read.
One of the greatest female pirates to have sailed the seas.
Every pirate or smuggler who was worth anything knew the story.
The famous trio, Calico Jack, Anne Bonny, and Mary Read had amassed a fortune during their plundering.
Read had known pirate hunters were after them so she gathered the group’s riches and hid them away.
When they were captured, the government raided their known homes and hideouts but found nothing.
And Read took her secrets to the grave with her.
Samantha sank into her chair and studied the parchment once again. She twisted it so the coastline ran parallel to the edge of the desk. The map had been torn diagonally so that the entire coastline was on her half. The line snaking inland was cut off.
“Your parents had determined the location to be here.” He pushed the parchment aside to point to the big map on her desk and his finger came to rest on the southern coast of Florida.
“They spent years combing the mangrove swamps and forests ashore, but without the other half, they had no idea how far inland to go, or in which direction.”
Her pulse quickened. How many times had she sailed past that very spot?
“And where is the other half?”
He shrugged. “Never even heard a whisper of it. But if Thorne is wanting your half, you can bet he knows where it is—or already has it.”
She jumped to her feet. “If he has it, we could—”
“Never. Only a fool would cross him. A dead fool.” He turned toward the door. “Wherever you hide it, don’t tell a soul. Not even me.”
The door clicked shut and Samantha drummed her fingers against the map. There had to be a way. But how? With a sigh, she returned the parchment to its hiding place. Plenty of time to brainstorm on this trip. For now, she needed to get the newly named Hurricane ready to sail.
After setting the shell back on the shelf, she headed below decks. In the kitchen, Francis, the cook, stashed a crate of eggs beneath a counter.
“Looking fetching as always, Captain.”
Samantha smiled. The kindly old man could always bolster her spirits. “Thank you. What else do we need for our voyage?”
He patted a barrel. “Fully stocked, Captain. Can’t fit nary a thing more.”
A bell clanged above.
“Good, because we don’t have much time.”
She slipped out the door and bumped into Tommy, the cabin boy.
“Apologies, Capt’n.” He straightened with a grin. “Say, did ya hear that no-good lieutenant put a reward out for information on your whereabouts?”
Samantha went still.
“You sure did make him mad, beating him the way you did.”
She regained her composure. “How much is this reward?”
The boy’s eyes lit up. “One hundred dollars.”
Half a year’s pay for a deckhand. She chewed her lip. Would her crew remain true?
Tommy read her mind. “Don’t you worry. Ain’t one of us that would snitch.”
Not now. But what if he upped his price? Lieutenant Thompson was quickly becoming a thorn in her side. She would have to find a way to convince him to back off. But how? The damn man would probably die before giving up his chase.
Tommy shifted on his feet while she looked him up and down. He frowned. “You alright, Capt’n?”
Her lips curved up. “How would you like to collect that reward, Tommy?”