Charlotte tucked the bundle Suresh had handed her more securely under her feet and positioned her left hand on her lap so the ring on her finger glinted in the starlight. It wasn’t a large, sparkling emerald, like Julia’s wedding ring, but it was a wedding ring. Her wedding ring.
Charlotte Cochrane. Delight shivered down her spine. She had come to Jamaica to get married without her family’s permission. A twinge of guilt invaded her pleasure. Ned’s arguments in favor of waiting until they rescued Julia and then seeking William’s blessing nibbled at the back of her mind.
She looked up—and caught Declan’s humor-filled expression before he turned to face forward again. Given her knowledge of Salvador’s true identity, the need for Ned to bring one of his crew on Audacious seemed ridiculous, although she had made her argument for it to be Suresh. The only thing that kept Suresh from being the perfect lady’s maid was his gender.
The jolly boat scraped up against Audacious’s hull. From his position behind her, Ned called for the bosun’s chair. She turned to argue—to insist she could climb the accommodation ladder—but the look on her husband’s face when their eyes met stilled her tongue.
So many familiar faces gazed over the bulwark along the quarterdeck. Charlotte adjusted the straw bonnet Salvador had given her so the brim shadowed her entire face. His generosity had not extended to giving her one of the gowns meant for Serena, but Suresh had managed to get her own dress back to a clean and wearable, if somewhat crumpled, state.
At least sitting on the wooden swing didn’t threaten to pull her shoulder out of joint the way being hauled up the side of Vengeance with a rope wrapped around her arm had. She clutched Suresh’s bundle to her chest as the seat swung her up and over the side of the ship.
Having been aboard Vengeance for a week, Charlotte reveled in the size of Ned’s ship. Though the frigate had the advantage of speed and maneuverability over the man-of-war, on Audacious the decks were wider and longer, the masts taller, and the crew more respectful and disciplined. They cut Declan a wide berth as he lumbered up onto the deck, obviously in awe of his size.
She tugged at the brim of her bonnet again, aware of the attention she also drew from the men. According to Ned, they knew she was William Ransome’s younger sister, but should any of them recognize her as Charles Lott…she did not want to imagine what might happen.
Ned joined her on deck and ushered her toward the overhang shading the wheelhouse. His steward stepped forward from the darkness. He looked from Ned to Charlotte to their clasped hands. Ned immediately released her. “Please see to Miss…Mrs. Cochrane’s comfort.”
Charlotte handed the canvas-wrapped bundle to the steward, but rather than follow his lantern through the darkness of the wheelhouse to Ned’s cabin, she caught her husband’s arm to stop him from walking away from her. “Are you not going to address your crew to tell them about our marriage and why Declan is here?” She leaned closer and lowered her voice. “Is it not better to do it now, so the darkness can keep anyone from recognizing me?”
His lips pressed into a tight line, but he nodded and motioned to Lieutenant Wallis. “Signal all hands. Mr. Declan, come with us.”
Ned took Charlotte’s hand again and headed for the steps to the poop deck. The leeward wind tried to dislodge her only means of disguise, but she held the bonnet on with her free hand while trying to keep from tripping up the steps to the uppermost deck of the ship—and with Declan close on her heels, she dare not stop.
Whistles and echoed commands hit Charlotte’s ears like the finest music in the most beautiful concert hall in the world. Oh, how she had missed this.
When the entire crew of Audacious stood looking up at them, lanterns intermittently illuminating the faces of men Charlotte recognized, Ned stepped forward—his hand trembling in hers. Charlotte increased the pressure of her grip just a bit, trying to impart courage and assurance.
He cleared his throat twice. “Officers and crew of His Majesty’s Ship Audacious, I am honored to introduce to you my wife”—his voice faltered on the word—“Mrs. Cochrane.”
The men exchanged confused looks while cheering and applauding.
“And this is Mr. Declan. We will be working with Captain Salvador of Vengeance to continue our hunt for the pirate Shaw, and Mr. Declan has agreed to come aboard Audacious to assist us.” Ned turned and gave Salvador’s first mate a challenging look.
Declan nodded. “Put me to work however you see fit.”
For that, Charlotte graced him with a smile. She liked Declan. She just did not appreciate the way he insisted on flirting with her constantly.
“Lieutenant Wallis, please dismiss the crew.” Ned pulled Charlotte toward the steps, and Wallis took their place to issue the command.
Like a Gargantuan puppy, Declan stayed behind Charlotte, almost on the hem of her skirt. She picked up her pace to keep Ned from dragging her down the steps. He didn’t slow until he reached the door of the dining cabin. The marine guard started—Charlotte couldn’t blame him, as it was quite dark down here—and opened the door for them.
When they entered the day cabin, Declan let out a low whistle. “Fancy.”
“This was the previous captain’s decor.” Charlotte flexed her hand, now free from Ned’s tight grip.
Declan stood under the skylight, where he could extend to his full height, though he’d only had to avoid the support beams of the deck above as they entered.
Ned moved from the paperwork on the round table to his desk and then back to the table. Assuming her presence added to his agitation, Charlotte picked up her bundle and moved toward Ned’s sleeping cabin.
“I believe I will rest for a little while.”
Ned gave her no acknowledgement, so she left the main cabin without further words. Exhaustion pressed down on her shoulders. She figured the time to be near midnight. After the wedding, Ned and Captain Salvador’s conference to determine their strategy had been quite long.
The sleeping quarters reflected the former captain’s taste for luxury as much as the main room. A box bed with embroidered panels—wider than a standard hammock, but not quite as large as William and Julia’s double-width bed on Alexandra—hung on one side of the narrow chamber, while a standard canvas hammock hung on the other side over a plainly built trunk. She smiled over Ned’s preference for the simple rather than the extravagant. A smaller sea chest was wedged into a corner of the cabin—a sea chest that looked familiar.
She set the bundle down in the box bed and pulled a candle out of the wall sconce to better see the chest.
Kneeling before it, she held the candle over the lid. Scratched into the wood, as she hoped—C. Lott, Midshipman. Stifling a cry of joy, she opened the lid. While everything inside seemed to be in disarray, her belongings still seemed to be there—from her uniforms to her toiletries to her log book to…why was the bundle of muslin cloths on top of everything else?
Embarrassment flamed her cheeks when the answer came to her. Ned had searched through the chest when he’d realized it was still here. William had allowed her to use one of his smaller sea chests to pack her belongings in—the dresses and underthings Julia had purchased for her in Barbados—for the journey to Tierra Dulce, and she had never thought to see this one again. She hoped that Ned, being the only person aboard who had known she wasn’t Charles Lott, was the one to have gone through the trunk.
Hot wax dripped onto her hand, and she stood and returned the candle to its holder. Though Ned would refuse to let her be seen in her midshipman’s garb, knowing that she had more clothing to wear should anything happen to her one and only gown was reassuring.
Outside a full moon had risen, sending a bright shaft of light in through the gun port. Charlotte turned her attention to the parcel Suresh had handed her as she left Vengeance. She untied the twine, rolling it up and setting it aside, and folded back the corners of the square of canvas.
The silvery light fell across something shimmery and dark with a white square in the center. She picked up the piece of parchment.
Dear Miss Ransome,
I bought this from a merchant in Philadelphia. I thought I might save it for a gift for my bride, but as I have no woman, I can think of no one more deserving than you to receive it.
Yours cordially,
Suresh Bandopadhyay
Charlotte lifted the contents of the bundle, which unfolded to reveal a swath of heavy silk embroidered with silver thread. In the dimness of the room, she could not gauge the design of the embroidery nor the fabric’s color, though it looked dark blue or perhaps purple or maybe even burgundy.
After what she had done to Salvador’s steward, she deserved no such kindness. She refolded the fabric and wrapped it carefully in the canvas square. Somehow, she would find a way to return it to him. Though, Ned had mentioned that if they received William’s blessing for their marriage, Ned would insist on a proper church wedding. The fabric would make a beautiful wedding dress, whether or not she was already married.
“You will be treated as one of the lieutenants.” Ned leaned against the edge of his desk and ignored the oncoming headache.
Declan sat at the worktable, long legs stretched before him, seeming to take up at least half of the cabin. “I will ask Lieutenant Wallis to instruct you on your duties as a naval officer.”
Could nothing wipe the grin from the giant’s face? “I don’t know how different it is in your navy, but in the American Navy, we lieutenants received very good training.”
“You were in the American Navy?”
“I served with distinction on USS Constitution. Shall I recite for you the list of English ships we captured? There was Guerrière”—Declan butchered the pronunciation—“Java—”
Ned held up his hand. “No recitation is necessary.” How had this man gone from serving in the military to becoming a pirate in only two years? Unless his distinction was that of dishonor rather than honor. “While you will act as a lieutenant, you will not be given command of a watch.”
“Don’t trust me?”
“No, I do not. You serve at my pleasure. And should your manner of service displease me, I will have no qualms about carrying out the sentence to which all pirates are condemned. Do you understand?”
“Aye, aye, Cap’n.” The mocking tone remained in Declan’s voice, needling Ned almost to the point of breaking, but he had other issues to deal with at the moment. He crossed to the dining cabin door and called for his steward. “Pass word for Lieutenant Wallis.”
In moments the acting first officer arrived. “Show Mr. Declan to the wardroom. Wallis, you are to take Lieutenant Gardiner’s berth for now. Make sure Mr. Declan becomes acquainted with the behavior and decorum expected of every man who serves King George. If he does not comply, you have my permission to place him under arrest and bring him to me to carry out his sentence.”
“Aye, aye, Captain.” Though much thinner than Declan, Wallis stood only a few inches shorter than the tall pirate. He cocked his head to motion Declan to precede him through the door.
As soon as it closed behind them, Ned staggered to a corner of the cabin and sank into the upholstered armchair there, leaning his head back against the cushion and throwing his arm across his eyes. He’d lived three lifetimes since the sun rose. Twelve men dead, captured, or missing because of his folly. An alliance with a known enemy and a pirate serving as an officer aboard his ship. And a wife waiting in his sleeping cabin.
Even as he’d told Wallis to take Gardiner’s berth, Ned had seen the flaw in his plan to ensure his marriage to Charlotte could be annulled if her brother objected. With Declan quartered in the wardroom, that left no available space for Ned to sleep down there. Now, even though he did not intend to consummate the marriage, trying to get it annulled would be near impossible, simply because he would have to share quarters with her and no one would believe they slept apart.
A door creaked and soft footsteps shuffled across the floor. He lowered his arm, expecting to see his steward entering to help him prepare for sleeping. Instead, Charlotte stood by the table, fingering a carved pinecone finial atop the back of one of the chairs.
“I know you are not happy that I forced you into a decision aboard Vengeance.” Her voice came out just above a whisper. “I understand your feelings that we must stay apart until William gives his consent for our marriage, which I know he will do.” Charlotte’s volume increased a bit to add emphasis to her confident statement. “But I hope that you will not stay angry with me for too long. I would not be able to bear that.”
The vulnerability in her voice catapulted him from the chair. He pulled her into his arms, the panic of discovering she’d been taken still fresh in his memory. “How could I be angry with you? I love you.” He held her as tightly as he dared, fearing he might damage her yet wanting to keep her as close as possible. “I was so frightened”—he choked on the jumble of words and emotions trying to tumble from his throat—“so frightened that I would never see you again. That you would be…injured. That horrible things would happen to you.”
Charlotte raised her head and kissed his chin. “When I was first taken, I was convinced the pirates had done you grievous harm when you tried to protect me. All I could think about was that I needed to get back to you, to make certain you were still alive.”
Ned lowered his head and captured her lips with his, feeling, for the first time today, a spark of something other than soul-numbing fear and doubt. He raised his hands to cup Charlotte’s face and deepened the kiss.
A soft whimper brought him back to his senses. He pulled away and stepped back, trembling. “I do apologize if I offended your sensibilities.”
Charlotte reached for the back of the chair beside her, panting as if she’d overexerted herself. “Offended my…are you mad? Ned, we are married. Though I am a novice at this estate, I do believe it should offend your sensibilities if I took offense at that.”
He fought the urge to take her in his arms and continue his offense, taking another step away from her. “We agreed our marriage is to be in name only. There can be no more kissing—no, nor even thoughts of kissing. We must behave with decorum, as if we were still courting.”
Charlotte made a sound that was half laugh, half sob. “Courting? Decorum?”
“If you do not abide by these terms, I will put you ashore and send you back to Tierra Dulce.” He never would, of course, but he needed some measure of control, and threatening her with a consequence was the lifeline he clung to. He clasped his hands behind his back and began to pace. “We must come to an agreement.”
Charlotte sighed and sank into the nearest chair. “I thought we already had.”
“There will be no more kissing. Nor embraces.” He wasn’t certain on which of them that edict would be harder. “You may have the sleeping cabin. I will hang my hammock out here.”
“Where?”
How could he not have been clear? “In the great cabin.”
“I meant how will you hang your hammock in here? There are no hooks from which to hang it.” Charlotte swept her arm in a circle to encompass the room.
Ned looked around. “Tomorrow I will have the carpenter install the hooks. Tonight, I will sleep in the chair.”
“No. You need your rest. We do not know what tomorrow will bring. Your hammock is already hung in the sleeping cabin. Ned, I shared the cockpit with almost twenty men for more than a month. Do you think if we sleep in the same room, in separate beds for one night, it is going to do my reputation any more damage? Besides, what rumors will start among the crew if the carpenter knows we are not living as husband and wife?”
Ned rubbed the bridge of his nose. Had she baited him into introducing her to the entire crew as his wife with this end in mind? To ensure they shared sleeping quarters? “Fine. We will share the sleeping cabin.” He waved his hand toward it. “Go to bed. I need to speak with my steward as to your accommodation.”
Charlotte stood and stepped toward him as if for a goodnight kiss, but Ned held out a hand to stop her. “Goodnight, Mrs. Cochrane.”
The flickering candlelight reflected off the disappointment in her expression. “Goodnight, Captain Cochrane.”
As soon as she disappeared into the other room, he once again sank into the armchair. Beyond the stern windows, the moon hung low over the horizon, bathing the sea in its indifferent light. Miles away, in a rocky bay, men who trusted him lay dead under that silver surface. They would never have the opportunity to see their wives and sweethearts again. And on the same day Ned sent them to their needless deaths, he experienced what should have been the happiest event in his life.
He did not deserve to be happy. He did not deserve to be blessed with Charlotte as his wife, to hold her, to feel the embers of passion her kisses stoked. He did not deserve her love.