Sophia gazed out over the blue waters of the Atlantic and felt the warm breeze ruffling the edges of her hair, and she grinned with pleasure. She had her adventure at last, thanks to her dear friend, Erasmus Tanner.
Annie had done her best to dissuade Sophia from setting off across the Atlantic ocean, but Sophia was adamant.
“You do not need me here at the bookstore. It is time I made a life for myself. I may never have an opportunity like this again, a chance to travel and see new things.”
Annie continued to try to convince Sophia to stay put in the weeks leading up to her sailing on the Primrose. Her mind was set, partly because she hadn’t told Annie everything in Captain Tanner’s letter. It would just upset her. She would never see things the way Sophia did. Annie was the kind of Englishwoman who enjoyed life most when she was next to a cozy fire with a pot of tea and a view outside her window that was unchanging and predictable. Sophia though, even as a child Annie would attest, was the kind of curious chit who ever wanted to know what was over the next hill, or around the corner, or on the other side of the world.
“Look outside your window,” Sophia had said. “It is nearly summer and yet the weather remains rainy and chill. But in Florida the sun is shining and the water is blue and warm. I want to see it! There is a large world out there full of things to see and do I will never experience if I spend my life here. This was your dream, Annie. I was pleased to share your dream with you, but now it is time to make my own dreams come true. Let us be realistic: I am twenty-five years old, a ‘widow,’ and not some green girl just out of the schoolroom. And the shop is profitable enough I can take some money for myself for this journey without you suffering the loss.”
“It is money earned on your investment, of course you will take it with you!”
“I do not need all of it, Annie, because I also have Captain Tanner’s draft. After I deliver his letter, I might travel up the coast of the United States to see more of that untamed land and embark from a northern port. Maybe I will even go up to Canada. I would hate to think the most exciting thing that would ever happen to me is robbing that highwayman.”
“I still think this the height of foolishness. You are a young woman setting out alone for heaven alone knows what kind of mishaps! Nothing good will come of this, mark my words!”
“You were the one who taught me the meaning of carpe diem, and seizing the day is what brought me to your doorstep instead of a life at the mercy of Lord Whitfield. I have to travel to Florida to look for Captain Tanner’s associate, Mr. Burrell. He is not likely to show up in Portsmouth, and if nothing else, he deserves to know what happened to his friend. And it is best I go now, before the hurricane season.”
Sophia didn’t feel like she was abandoning Annie, any more than she felt Annie had abandoned her to seek a better position when the Deford family could not afford to keep her. Sophia had bowed to Annie’s notions of propriety and arranged to share accommodations aboard ship. Her middle-aged companion, Lucille Knott, was below chatting with her brother, the ship’s carpenter. Lucille’s husband was in Florida homesteading and had sent his brother-in-law to fetch his wife to her new home, a serendipitous turn of events for a young woman needing a female companion to lend her respectability.
The two women filled their time aboard ship discussing their shared love of gothic novels and making themselves useful doing mending for the sailors and officers. Sophia became less distanced as a paying passenger because of her association with Mrs. Knott, who was considered one of their own by the crew, and the two women regularly dined with the captain and officers. Mrs. Knott’s status as the wife of a successful Florida landowner also raised her up a notch on the social ladder.
“That is what decided me to encourage Mr. Knott on this venture,” Lucille explained as they were filling their hours trying out new hairstyles on each other one dull afternoon. “In England every man has his place and knows it, but in America there are opportunities to move up.”
“Your husband did not want to settle in the United States? I would think there would be even more room for advancement there.”
“Maybe, but his family sided with the King during the American war, and moved down to Florida to get away from the rebels. He said he has not seen much from the Americans since then to convince him to move north of the border.”
America was all the topic at supper, as the officers shared their own thoughts on the Yankees. Most of them were not complimentary, as those same officers had fought against the young nation quite recently, and often to their regret.
“At least that’s not a concern on this voyage,” Captain Starke said. “Most of those men have gone back to what they were doing before the war.”
“Except for those who turned pirate,” said Mr. Kelly, the mate.
“Naval officers who became pirates?” said Sophia.
“No, ma’am, but leftover privateers and adventurers who take advantage of the unstable situation south of the United States in Mexico and in South America.”
“Florida is a Spanish possession, is it not?”
“Yes, it is.” Kelly reached for a mango, picked up on a recent stop in the Bahamas. “But the United States has its eye on adding the Florida lands to their cache, securing their southern coastline. Spain is weak, and there are sharks who see this as an opportunity to increase their own wealth.”
“It’s those damned—pardon me, ladies—slave traders who are the worst!” Captain Starke, a staunch member of the Society for the Abolition of the Slave Trade, said fiercely. “Florida is where blacks are smuggled in to be shipped into the United States, and everyone turns a blind eye to it! The Spanish get rich in bribes off the blackbird trade, and the American government is too sniveling to chastise its Southern landowners. That kind of lawlessness and lack of civic and martial oversight breeds a situation ripe for evildoing!”
“The war is over. Can the Royal Navy not protect British merchant ships?” Sophia said. “Surely the pirate ships are smaller and carry less crew and arms than the navy?”
“The difference, Miss Deford, is the privateers are largely merchant seamen who’ve become pirates legitimized by their spurious letters of marque,” Kelly said. “And a merchant captain knows the sea lanes and coast better than a naval captain, giving them an advantage when they strike and attack. They know where to sniff out their prey, because they think and sail as we do, not as a naval officer does.”
Traveling in convoy was no longer required with the war ended. Starke, his crew and his passengers knew they took a chance going alone, but the opportunities to increase business post-war were too enticing, and the merchant captains depended on their own skill, the occasional naval ship on patrol, and luck to get them safely into port.
Mrs. Knott also made it her business on the voyage to promote the joys of remarriage to “Mrs.” Deford.
“Though I must say, Sophia, I find myself sometimes envious of you. I long to see my dear Mr. Knott again, and look forward to being reunited with him, but you have a great deal of freedom to come and go without worrying about what your man expects of you.”
“It is because I have money in my own right that I have this freedom.” Sophia put down the gothic novel she’d been reading in their cabin as a squall lashed the ship. “A woman who is financially dependent on others is at their mercy. Miss Johnson and I worked hard to build up the book shop, and I am glad I have this opportunity to see some of the world thanks to our efforts in Portsmouth. I am especially enjoying traveling while not being at the beck and call of some demanding male person who thinks he is in control of my life because he holds the purse strings.” She looked out the window into the stormy night. “At the moment though, I am most excited about this rain allowing us a good wash tomorrow. Mr. Kelly said the barrels would be fully replenished after this downpour.”
The next day there was plenty of fresh water for washing, but the Primrose hadn’t escaped injury during the squall. Sophia was strolling on deck, enjoying the rain-washed fresh air and watched the captain and the carpenter examining the ship’s foremast, sprung and listing to port.
“Can you mend it?” Starke asked with a worried frown on his face.
“Aye, and with luck it will hold,” the carpenter said confidently, and Sophia watched as they prepared the mast and took some curved pieces of wood, the “fish,” lashing them to the mast and straightening it. When they were done the mast stood tall again, but it bore a disturbing resemblance to a splinted limb.
That night after supper, the passengers and officers played cards and the ship’s company assured Sophia a mended mast was a normal event on the ocean, and they’d weathered similar situations with excellent results, so Sophia turned back to concentrating on the pasteboards in her hand. She never thought she would be able to play cards for the sheer pleasure of the game and the conversation made over the card table. When the outcome would not affect whether one had sufficient funds to purchase groceries or firewood, it was possible to enjoy cards as a passing entertainment.
Now Captain Starke said they would likely spot Florida by the late afternoon, and as Sophia took her daily walk around deck, she thought she detected a hint of greenery on the western breeze as the land of flowers beckoned to them, sending out tendrils of seductive, lush foliage to lure them to its shore.
Her poetic musings were interrupted by the call from the sailor aloft.
“A sail, Captain!”
Sophia shaded her eyes and looked in the direction the sailor was pointing, while Captain Starke went to the rail and took out his glass. The ship bearing down on them had the wind and was a schooner rigged fore-and-aft. This wasn’t a good sign, since schooners were the favored vessels of—
“Pirates!” the lookout yelled, as the false colors of Spain were run down and an unknown pennant run up in its place.
“Are we going to fight?” the mate asked the captain. They hadn’t noticed Sophia standing behind them. She knew she should go below, but she felt compelled to stay up above where she could see what was happening.
“You know who that is, don’t you?”
“Aye,” the mate sighed. “It’s the Jade. We’ll never outrun him with that foremast.”
“We will do what we can, Mr. Kelly! I won’t give over to the likes of him without making an effort.”
Over the next hours the Primrose gamely tried to outrun its pursuer, but the Jade had the advantage, its rakish lines cutting cleanly through the waves, driving it ever closer to the merchant vessel.
“Mr. Kelly? What is going to happen to us?”
The mate looked around and saw Sophia behind him.
“I am afraid, Mrs. Deford, we are going to be caught by that Yankee. But I know of Lucky Jack Burrell, and I do not believe we will come to harm if we do not resist.”
Sophia felt her heart give a funny jump.
“Did you say ‘Lucky Jack Burrell’? Could his given name be ‘John Burrell’?”
“Aye. An American privateer, owner of the Jade,” he said, gesturing at their pursuer. “He attacked British ships with an American letter of marque during the war, but now he sells his services as a privateer to the highest bidder.”
“But England is not at war with anyone anymore!” Sophia protested.
“A legal nicety isn’t likely to stop a damned pirate—your pardon, Mrs. Deford. If you will excuse me, there is much I need to do. I suggest you go below and pack your bags.”
Sophia was startled.
“Pack my bags?”
“There is always the possibility if we’re boarded the Yankees will take the Primrose as a prize and put us off. That is less likely with passengers aboard, but it is good to be prepared.”
“John Burrell,” she murmured to herself. “What are the odds?”
As the schooner drew ever closer, even a land dweller like Sophia knew they would never make an escape from the Jade. Nearly simultaneously, the mended mast gave out, the crack of the splintering wood echoed by a blast from the bow chaser on the schooner. The splash of yards and sheets over the side pulled the Primrose sharply to starboard and the cheers of the pursuing pirates rang across the water.
The schooner came ever closer, and when it was within hailing distance a man with a horn called over that the Primrose should heave to and prepared to be boarded. Boats were soon dispatched from the Jade to the Primrose under the eyes of the Jade’s crew, sailors armed with muskets and rifles in the rigging and the run-out ships’ guns offering a grim reminder of what could happen if the Primrose resisted.
Sophia watched with interest as the privateers came aboard. They didn’t look much different from the crew of the Primrose, though they were festooned with more weaponry and gold than the sailors, most of them sporting an earring or medallion. Some of them eyed Sophia curiously, but did not approach her, and one or two gave her a polite nod.
It was the last man to come aboard who caught and held Sophia’s eye. He was trim and lean, wearing a white shirt opened at the neck beneath his blue jacket. His sun streaked hair fell forward and obscured his face, and he was laughing at something one of his mates said to him.
Then he turned in her direction and the sun caught him full on his browned face, one eye covered by a black patch.
Sophia struggled to breathe and she said a word that would have earned her a slap on the ear from Annie Johnson. She shakily turned to go below to the relative safety of her cabin.
“Stop where you are, miss.”
The voice from the rail made her blink in dismay. She’d been correct. Sophia stopped, but she didn’t turn around. She did hear the footsteps come up behind her, and then a hard hand was placed on her shoulder and she was turning into the light to look up at her captor.
The privateer captain studied her for a moment, put his hand under her chin and raised it until she was looking up into that single hazel eye.
“Miss Sophia Deford. What are the odds?” said her highwayman.