Pirate's Redemption Read online

  Taking in the garden out the window, she wondered if later that night, during the supper, she would be questioned on things she didn't want to answer. What would she say? Or would they ignore it like the McKennas had—for which she was grateful. How could she explain what had happened to her? Or worse, the things she had let happen to her.

  She still didn't know if she would ever be accepted back into society in the state she was now in. From what she’d been told, she was fallen now—unacceptable. It had been stressed to her so fervently there was no question how she would be regarded. But so far, everyone had pretended there was nothing untoward, and she was not about to challenge their chosen strategy.

  Unbuttoning her dress, she took it off and stepped into the bath. The water was just warm, cool enough to be comfortable—as if warmed by the sun. It felt lovely and Sarah took the rag and soap provided and scrubbed her limbs, removing any residue that remained from her recent experiences.

  *

  After she dried off and combed her hair, there was a knock on the door and the girl, Winnie, appeared, a gown carried over her arm, and a corset. Sarah held the dressing gown tightly around her middle as she stood by the window and let the breeze dry her hair.

  "Mrs. McKenna felt this would suit you," Winnie said, her voice barely more than a whisper. "I'll help you dress when the time comes."

  By the look of it, it wasn't a gown she could put on without assistance. Self-sufficiency wasn't of upmost importance now. "Yes, thank you," Sarah said.

  *

  After a few hours of sleep, Sarah woke with Winnie’s return and accepted the undergarments the girl handed her. She put them on, then with the girl’s assistance, put the corset in place and stood by as the girl drew the laces tight and Sarah felt her breath tighten. That familiar breathlessness returned. She hadn't felt it for a while now and it wasn't something she had missed.

  The ability to breathe deeply and properly was the one good thing she'd experienced in her time in Isla Rosa. But that was over now. Women of quality didn't require breathing. The corset was now so tight, she could hardly bend over and needed help to put on the gown, which was a light blue silk. The front was so stiff it felt like a board, but it did give her a lovely shape.

  The skirt flared pleasingly and it suited her frame. Lace skirted around the neckline and the sleeves. It was a beautiful gown, and it felt familiar to her—not this gown exactly, but gowns just like it. Most of her life had been spent in gowns like this, contained so she could only draw the lightest breath.

  Standing on the landing, Sarah could hear talking downstairs. This evening could be utterly disastrous. Rightly, these people should exclude her, revile her loss of innocence. Perhaps the McKennas had been wrong in their assessment that everyone would overlook that fact.

  But there was nothing for it, they had put on a supper in her honor, to welcome her—even as she wasn't sure her welcome was guaranteed. Holding her head high, she descended the stairs, appearing in the dining room lit with numerous candles. Nerves tumbled in her belly, but the corset held her in place.

  Soldiers and a few wives were milling around the dining table, ready to take their seats. All turned to her as she entered the room.

  The admiral approached her. "Our guest of honor has arrived. May I introduce Miss Lancaster. We are so pleased to have her in our midst again and wish her the warmest welcome."

  Sarah smiled, her eyes taking in the people present, trying to read the expressions in their eyes. She knew none of these faces, until she settled on the pirate, who, like herself, was more finely dressed than the clothes he'd arrived in. If it wasn't for his long hair, he'd look more like a gentleman now.

  It seemed these people had accepted his presence as well as hers. Did this mean they were extraordinarily open to the company they kept?

  He nodded his greeting to her, but didn't smile, instead returning to his conversation with one of the officers. His acceptance in this company surprised her, but then she remembered that he'd been a part of the navy detachment here, in this very port. He must know these men, probably knew the admiral as well.

  "Come," Mrs. McKenna said, taking her hand and leading her to join them. All took their seats and the room was noisy until everyone had settled. The serving staff were all Africans and they brought out the soup course shortly after the party had seated.

  A man with spectacles was talking about trade routes and Sarah tried to follow along, but she didn't entirely understand what he was referring to. The other men around the table were listening intently, some adding their thoughts and comments.

  Mrs. McKenna turned to her. "That is Lieutenant Capers. He is recently arrived, but a lovely man. Unmarried, as of yet and will likely remain so. There's a dearth of eligible women in Port Royal, particularly women of better quality."

  Throughout the evening, no one asked her about her experience. It proved that these people had all deemed it unseemly to ask, a topic unsuitable for a dinner party.

  Chapter 8

  Out on the veranda, all was quiet, except the murmur of conversation that fleeted out from the open doors. No birds were singing, having settled down to sleep for the night and the township had calmed as well. The moonlight glinted along the sea, creating a column of glittering lights in front of Joshua. A noise to his left told him someone had joined him, and he turned to see Miss Lancaster.

  "I see they spruced you up as well," she said.

  "Yes. You look lovely."

  "Thank you.” Her eyes traveled out to sea; she didn't seem all that flattered by the compliment.

  "I can't breathe in this," she admitted. "That is one thing I haven't missed: corsets." She continued looking along the view ahead of them, the township and the sea beyond. He didn't know her well, but he could see that her thoughts were troubled. He didn't want to pry into her privacy, actually hoped not to be privy to it, but would listen if there was something she needed to mention.

  "They're all ignoring what's happened, as if it didn't happen at all. Is that how it's going be now?"

  "I suspect they don't want to pry. They are perhaps concerned some discomfiting things have occurred during your recent trials and will never mention them," he said. "It is perhaps for the best."

  "Is it?"

  Joshua didn't know what to say. He could so easily say the wrong thing without meaning to. He was never one to invite private discussions, preferring to keep the superficial calm surface of even the most troubled waters.

  "Is all forgiven now? Is that so easy? Are you a lieutenant again?”

  "No. I will likely never be again. The navy might forgive, but it doesn't forget."

  "They seem to accept you well enough here."

  "It is superficial in nature. I have broken the code, and that means something." He tried to keep the sadness out of his voice, smiling tightly and crossing his arms. "Are you comfortable with Mrs. McKenna's care?"

  "It seems odd that I need care, having been completely on my own for months, and I suspect I'll never be comfortable in a gown like this again, now that I know what life is like without one."

  "You will get used to it. Like myself, you will have to get used to these new clothes." Earlier in the day, he'd been given a new set of white breeches and a velvet coat. He hadn't felt that he'd needed it, but had conceded when told about the dinner—the first true social event he'd had in a very long time.

  "You're looking forward to returning to England?" she asked, observing his face.

  "Yes," he said with a sigh. "I had hoped this day would come. My family, in particular, will be pleased by my return, as will yours."

  Miss Lancaster looked down and shuffled slightly, before looking up again. "That girl, Clara, how long have you known her?"

  The change in topic surprised him. "Not much more than a year," he said.

  "She is extraordinary. She lives life completely on her own terms."

  "Yes, she does."

  "I didn't know people like her existed."

 
"She is perhaps unique."

  "And she is married to that pirate, Christian."

  He hadn't realized Miss Lancaster had been observing them so closely. "Christian Rossi, his name is. He is Genoese in origin, and yes, they are married. There was a time they were not so congenial with each other. I would go so far as to say they were determined enemies."

  "I suppose it is amazing what can develop, even with the most tenuous of relationships," she said. Her gaze was a little far away and he wondered what she was thinking. There seemed to be something bothering her, but it was a topic between her and her confidants, an unseemly topic to raise, particularly at a formal supper like this. This is certainly not the place for such discussions, and he was certainly not the person for such musings.

  "What will happen now?" she asked, turning her gaze back to him. She did look different in that silk gown, more unapproachable. She looked like the nobility she was. He hadn't really seen it before when she'd worn that plain dress, with her hair loose and her cheeks rosy. She'd looked like a pretty girl of no consequence, the powerful ties behind her hidden.

  "I think we must sail to the Bahamas first. From there we'll sail north, probably to Boston. The large transatlantic ships will sail from there. I suspect that will be the easiest route."

  "And you are to sail with me?"

  "Yes, it is my task to deliver you to your father."

  "Why do you wish to return to England? There seemed to be people who care about you here."

  "Yes, but my family is in England. It is my duty to return now that I can, as it is yours."

  "I'm betrothed,” she said. "I've known him most of my life. He's one of my father's contemporaries, close to forty years older than me." Joshua hadn't known. No one had mentioned this to him. "I suppose the betrothal might not stand now, considering… " She drifted off.

  "You know what happened to you is not your fault." He'd been around the Caribbean, and the men who sailed here, long enough to suspect she was no longer the virginal innocent she had been.

  She didn't say anything, but looked away again. He heard her deep sigh. "I don't know," she said, clearly troubled by this. Perhaps she had a right to be. Some men might refuse her now, might reject her as below the bride promised. "I'm starting to wonder if it's better that I don't return," she said. "Better for everyone involved."

  Feeling his heart twist at her distress, he looked at her. This more or less confirmed that her virtue had been taken from her. "Please don't say that. You're not responsible for the things that happen to you, or the consequences." Were there any consequences? She could be with child even now. Again, something he had no right, or cause, to ask. Perhaps her concern stemmed from the knowledge that she was. Her reunion with her family would definitely be more precarious if she was. Biting his lips together, Joshua wondered what to do—if he should ask. There were ways of restoring her, he knew.

  She smiled more brightly. "Don't you wonder if you being here has changed you too much to go back?"

  "Of course not. I might have done things I'm not proud of, but I have tried to keep my moral fortitude intact as much as possible. Experiences only change you if you let them."

  "I'm not so sure I can say the same. I have learned so much here. I have learned that there are other ways of living. There are people who do extraordinary things in difficult circumstances, like your friend Clara, for example. She has done something extraordinary, and she's true to herself."

  "Yes, but she has no choice. She has nowhere else to go. None of the people who come here do. People are there because they have no option."

  "I'm not sure that's true, though. I think some people come here to live a different kind of life, a life where they're not required to marry a sixty-year-old man, required to bear an heir and perform as the perfect wife. People seek a different purpose here."

  "I think you misunderstand," he said. "People do not have an easy life here; it's often much too short, particularly for the women. Most women here will never know a life of safety and comfort. They will never have a decent home, and most of them will likely die before their time. This is not a place for women."

  "But some thrive, like Clara."

  "You have to remember that Clara is still the daughter of the man who established Tortuga Bay. She didn't just step off the boat and decide to take on the world. The rules of fortune and favor are not so different here as you would assume."

  "But there are such women here."

  "Yes, but," he said in frustration, "those are the exceptions to the rule, most women have very harsh lives, as prostitutes or servants. This is not a place anyone should wish to be. And a girl on her own, as you likely know, will run into trouble within minutes. This world uses and abuses young naïve girls, leaving them as nothing but broken shells. I've seen this too many times to account. You must understand what it's really like."

  "I do understand what it's like. I lived in this world for months. I survived what it presented me with."

  "Then you should count yourself lucky that you survived, and that you got away."

  "I saw the worst and the best of it."

  "There is no best."

  "Maybe because you refuse to see it."

  "Or maybe you are letting your fears run away with you. You're going home, where you belong. Rejoice in your good fortune."

  "What if I don't belong there anymore?" she asked quietly.

  "Your fears are nothing but fears. Your family has sought your return, wanting you back. There is nothing worse than being estranged from your family."

  "They want the girl I was. I'm not sure I can be that anymore."

  Steps sounded as someone walked out of the open doors from the dining room and they both stopped the conversation. It wasn't a conversation anyone should overhear. It wasn't a conversation they should be having in the first place. They were still little more than strangers, but she was revealing deeply personal fears.

  He understood that she had fears, that she could be rejected by her family and acquaintances. That was a true risk, perhaps, but her family wanted her back, and that meant something. It meant she was lucky.

  "I will inquire about the next sailing to Nassau," he said quietly to her. "I think it's important we get on our way fairly soon. You will feel better once on your way home." He lowered his voice for her. "A few months is nothing. Being away from the place you belong for longer, forever even, starts to grate and it starts to hurt, and there's no future turning your back on that, particularly for fears that are most likely unfounded. Everyone will forgive you. They know you are not responsible for what has befallen you," he said with a tight smile. Feeling uncomfortable, he greeted the man that approached them, a Captain Harmon.

  "I believe it's almost a full moon tonight," the man said. "It lights up the whole island, doesn't it? I am sure we do not get a moon this size back home."

  Chapter 9

  In only her chemise, Sarah paced back and forth in her room. She was allowed to go downstairs, but she wasn't allowed to go out, at least not without a chaperone. Treated as a precious object to being so confined and watched every moment. On Isla Rosa, she'd come and gone as she'd wanted; all she'd had to do was take care nothing happened to her, but she learned when she was safe and could move around freely.

  Now there was no freedom left. Mrs. McKenna watched her like a hawk, worried that something would happen to her. If she was a normal girl, they wouldn't be so vigilant, but she wasn't; she was the daughter of an earl. This gave her less freedom and leeway than most people. Her pending marriage held power, and her father would use it to his best advantage.

  She knew the man he intended her for, an elderly man, a duke. This marriage would mean social and economic benefits for her whole family, but it meant marrying someone much, much older than herself. For this purpose, she'd been kept protected and contained, until the day something disastrous had happened.

  They'd been visiting Bermuda, where her father had briefly been given the governorship when the pr
evious one had died unexpectedly. It had never been intended to be a permanent position, but she'd gone with her parents, sailing across with the navy. They were supposed to be safe, but then her mother had fallen ill and returned to England. Sarah was to follow, in the care of Captain Reinworth. Her voyage had been more eventful than anticipated; disastrous, in fact.

  The men had been left in dinghies, and the ship, and its treasures, including her, had been taken. In the beginning, she'd been terrified, particularly as she was presented as a prize to the victorious captain. She hadn't completely understood what was going on at the time. She should have fought harder, but she hadn't. In a way, he'd even been charming as he’d taken her to his quarters and dined with her. Over the course of the night, he'd alleviated the worst of her fears—fears that she would not survive the week. At the conclusion of the night, she hadn't fought, suspecting what was to come. But now she felt guilty that she hadn't. What kind of person was she that she hadn't fought him? In a sense, she'd been curious, seduced even.

  But now she was back where Mr. Havencourt said she belonged. No one asked her about her experience, or judged her for what had happened. It seemed she was too valuable to challenge as the earl's daughter, and especially as a duke's bride. Instead, she would politely slide back into her life in society. Even as a married woman, she would be held to such high standards, still watched in whatever she did, disallowed to do anything without permission.

  This pirate, the one who'd brought her here, had said her family wanted her back, but on some level she knew what they wanted was the bride to bargain off. Her parents loved her, to some degree, but her life wasn't about love, it was about duty. For a few months, she had found herself; she'd been free to do what she wished—within the limitations of her own safety.

  There were victims in the Caribbean, but she'd also seen women take control of their lives. Some thrived; some marched ahead in the world, had created their own fortunes.