“Captain, what is that land ahead of us? It does not look like there is a town or port there.”
“There isn’t a town or port. It’s Key Marquez, and we will stop there overnight to replenish our water.”
“No town?”
“You were warned. There are few towns in the Floridas. Pensacola to the west, St. Augustine and Fernandina to the east, a squalid little hamlet at the tip of the keys down south, and that is all there is to speak of, save for scattered farms and plantations along the rivers and coasts. Indians and insects own the interior, with the occasional fort or Spanish mission. For civilization you have to go north to Savannah or south to Havana.”
Sophia chewed her lip at her first glimpse of Florida. She wanted to think Captain Burrell was exaggerating to scare her, but she feared he was telling the truth. Key Marquez looked like it had never hosted a human footprint, a wild tangle of sand, scrubby shrubs, and occasional trees towering over the greenery below. No smoke rose into the air showing the cheery comfort of a hearth or cookstove. Flocks of terns and gulls soared at the approach of the ship, but settled back into their places on the sand.
Mr. Rice called for the sails to be hauled in and the anchor let out, and the Jade came to rest off the coast while the crew made ready for their foray ashore. They were in good spirits, but in addition to their water casks they carried small arms.
“Why are the men armed?” Sophia asked Mick, who’d brought her breakfast from below. He looked at her like she was sun touched.
“Why, you always go ’round armed in these waters, miss. You never know who else you might meet—Indians, the guardacosta, and there are pirates here, too! Plenty of men who’ll rob you for the clothes on your back or the boat you arrived in.”
Sophia took a bite of her morning biscuit as she thought about her situation. Her mood wasn’t helped by the galley’s questionable offerings.
“Mick, would it be possible for me to get some tea instead of coffee?”
“I dunno, miss. See, the cap’n likes to drink coffee in the morning, and cook makes what the cap’n likes. But maybe if you asked Cap’n Burrell, he might tell cook to make you tea.”
“No, if coffee is what the ship subsists on, then I, too, will drink coffee,” Sophia said firmly. She was not going to give Captain Burrell any cause to say she was complaining about her situation.
She thought instead about the lovely silver tea service she would buy with her fifty thousand pounds, the butler who would carry it into her graciously appointed sun room, the head of Jack Burrell mounted on the wall. Her backside was still aching from her fall out of the hammock, and she had barely slept a wink, flinching awake every time the hammock shifted. And the hammock shifted every time she took a deep breath.
But when Captain Burrell asked after her rest in the morning, she’d responded with a chipper reply she’d slept like a baby in a cradle.
“You keep lying, Miss Deford, and your tongue will freeze. Or so my nanny used to tell me.”
“I am quite satisfied with my hammock, Captain Burrell. I am looking forward to sleeping in it again tonight!”
She’d kept her eyes shut, pretending to be asleep while he dressed in the morning. Mostly shut. It was hard to resist looking at him through her lashes. She was honest enough with herself to acknowledge there was nothing painful about looking at a nude, or nearly nude, Lucky Jack Burrell. She was no blushing schoolgirl and he wasn’t the first naked man she’d ever gazed on, but clearly he was a cut above the rest.
Despite his lewd innuendoes and suggestions, she had no intention of following through on any baser thoughts her body might prompt. Those stirrings deep in her belly would be suppressed, the shortness of breath overcome, because to follow through on those urges courted disaster.
That was a lesson she had learned the hard way, and she had no intention of repeating it.
Now though, she was more intrigued by the sight of the Florida coast. Mick was back at her side, working at some complicated arrangement of string and knots, but he was keeping her company. She wondered if he’d been assigned to shadow her.
“Aye, miss,” he said cheerfully. “The cap’n said there’s too much chance you would get into trouble on your own, and he told me to stay with you like a limpet.”
“You are not disappointed to be my nursemaid, Mick?”
“This morning is when I would be studying mathematics with Mr. Rice, and I would do anything to get out of that, miss, even spend the morning with a lady.”
“It is good to know where I stand in your estimation, Mick.” Sophia smiled to herself, “You know, there are some good sides to mathematics. Really,” she added at his skeptical look. “Do you play cards? No? Wait here then, and I will teach you how numbers can make a difference.”
Sophia rose from where she’d been sitting tailor fashion on a pile of canvas awaiting mending and went down to the captain’s cabin, returning with a deck of playing cards and a handful of small coins and buttons.
“There is a game called vingt-et-un where counting is the key to success, Mick. Other games also rely on luck and your ability to remember the numbers of cards in play. But we will start with something fairly basic.”
Sophia expertly shuffled her deck, fanned it out, flipped the cards back, to Mick’s wide-eyed acclaim, and promised to show him at a future date how to handle the deck. She explained the rules and soon the two were deep in play.
“Play the eight, Mick, or she’ll take every button off your shirt.”
She wished once again the light-footed captain would put on a pair of boots so she would hear his approach.
“No one appreciates someone who mixes in another’s card game, Captain.”
“I thought I should step in before Mick starts betting his shares in the Jade’s prizes.”
“Are you a wealthy man, then, Mick? Maybe I should set my cap for you myself.”
Mick had jumped to his feet at the captain’s arrival, but was still holding his cards, close to his chest.
“Mick, you are relieved of duties here, and are needed in the galley. Miss Deford, perhaps you can amuse yourself for a time. We will be eating luncheon shortly.”
Sophia looked up at the sun high overhead. Her morning playing with Mick had been so enjoyable she’d lost track of time.
“You played well. Keep working at your figures and you will develop skills that will help you in many situations, not just cardplaying.”
“This is true, Mick,” the captain said sternly. “If you wish to navigate your own ship, mathematics are the key to staying on course and being able to read your charts. Now, off with you and get yourself ready for dinner. And as for you, Miss Deford, perhaps you can find a solo activity to occupy you and keep you from getting underfoot.”
“I have mending I could be doing, Captain Burrell. I will stay out of your way and do that.”
Jack held out his hand to help her to her feet, and she took his warm, sun-browned hand in hers. He pulled her up, but then dropped her hand like it burned. He was frowning again.
“I hesitate to ask, but could I impose on you to do some mending for me as well?”
He looked uncomfortable at the idea of asking her to do anything for him, but she said, “It is not an unreasonable request, Captain. Give me your mending and I will add it to my pile. And I promise not to sew your flies shut.”
Sophia went down the ladder to the cabin and took her sewing kit and his clothes. While baiting Captain Burrell was satisfying, there was wisdom in not constantly being at hammer-and-tongs with a man who held her life in his hand. Sewing on a few buttons would help smooth relations, and cost her little.
Keeping her resolution in mind, they had a pleasant lunch, and afterward Sophia stayed in the cabin to read.
* * *
Jack found her, sprawled out on his bunk, his copy of A History of New York dropped in the covers. She was oblivious to his presence, making up for her stint in the hammock the night before.
He watched the sleeping Miss Deford, the faint rise and fall of her chest, and in this guise, unguarded and unawares, she looked very young indeed. He didn’t like that. It stirred his protective instincts, though at the moment he was feeling nothing like an older brother to her.
It still made the most sense to drop her over the side—if not here, in Fernandina— and put Sophia Deford out of his life forever.
Instead, he pulled a cover up over her, and walked quietly out of his cabin.
* * *
Sophia was surprised when Captain Burrell agreed to her request to go ashore with him and the men, but he only said, “I like having you where I can keep an eye on you. If I left you aboard the Jade, you might steal it.”
Sophia found it flattering he considered her so dangerous. On the other hand, she did want to go ashore, so she was in a cheerful mood as the men rowed them to Key Marquez.
Jack jumped into the surf and pulled her up into his arms to carry her to the beach.
“Do not drop me,” Sophia gasped out, so naturally, he pretended his grip slipped just to make her yelp. But he didn’t drop her.
“Do you swim, Miss Deford?”
“No, Captain, it is a skill I do not have. There was no one who could teach me, and I feared trying it on my own.”
“That, at least, shows wisdom.”
He set her down and, looking at her feet, said, “You might want to take off your shoes while on the beach. But don’t wander off. Always stay in sight of me and the men.” He was gazing past her shoulder into the trees as he said this, and when Sophia saw where he was watching, she gasped.
A red Indian stood at the edge of the beach, watching them. The sailors ignored him, but Jack said, “Stay here,” and headed across the sand. She almost ran into his back when he stopped and turned to frown at her.
“I have never seen an Indian before, Captain Burrell. Is he dangerous?”
“Not by himself, but I don’t know if there are more back in the woods.” He looked like he was going to tell her to go back to the boats, but he just shrugged and headed up the beach.
The Indian watched them impassively, and when they were closer Sophia saw he had a deer at his feet, and he kept a musket cradled in his arms. The man’s eyes flicked once in her direction, then came back to rest on Jack.
Jack stopped a few yards from the man and greeted him in Spanish, and the Indian replied in kind. It was obvious from his gestures he was offering the deer in trade, but Jack just shook his head at the first query, and then the two settled down to some serious haggling.
Sophia watched with interest, and wished she spoke Spanish so she could follow the discussion. The Indian was dressed in a leather clout and a calico shirt, with silver ornaments in his ears and long hair. He looked to be young, just out of his teens, but the tattoos on his face and arms made his age hard for her to judge.
She really, really wished she spoke Spanish when he looked at her again and then posed a question to Jack, who started coughing. He looked at her, grinned, but then turned back to the Indian and shook his head, speaking again in Spanish. The youth looked mildly disappointed by what Jack said, but pointed at the deer, then back over his shoulder to the woods and gestured at the men on the beach.
Jack nodded, and the two rose to their feet and shook hands on their deal.
The Indian headed back into the woods, without his deer, and Jack turned around to walk back down to the boats, still grinning.
“I insist you tell me what went on between the two of you,” Sophia said. “I know it involved me because of the way that Indian gestured, and because you are grinning like a moonstruck fool.”
“Your value to me just keeps increasing by the hour. That gentleman wanted to make a trade, all right. He wanted to trade for you.”
“He wanted to trade the deer for me?”
Now Jack’s grin looked like it would split his cheeks.
“No, he acknowledged you were too small to be worth a full deer. He wanted to trade two possums for you.”
And with that he started laughing so hard he had to sit down in the sand. Sophia resisted the urge to kick him.
“Opossums? Aren’t they some sort of rodent?”
“Miss Deford, I would not trade you for just any kind of rodent! Possums are ugly rodents!” And it set him off into a fresh round of laughter.
“Given the hilarity you are finding in this, I am surprised you did not agree to his request!”
“Well, I was tempted, I admit.” Jack rose to his feet and brushed the sand off his legs. “But I told him I would only take three possums for you, and not a possum less. He was not willing to go that high.”
“Very droll, Captain. What did you trade for the deer?”
He sobered and said, “He wanted firearms and rum, but I said I wouldn’t trade those. We settled on goods for his women—kettles, beads, cloth. We have enough problems with the Indians without arming them with more guns or liquor to rouse their passions.”
“Are you expecting the Indians to attack you?”
“Did I not mention that when I warned you about Florida’s dangers? As the white men move in, the tensions with the Indians mount. I expect we Americans will eventually push the Spanish out, weak as they are, and move in settlers and cattle.”
“What of the Indians then?”
“They will be caught in the middle and are already unhappy with American incursions over the border. If enough Americans come in, the Indians’ only hope is to move farther into the interior, where no white man would want to live amidst the sawgrass and fevers. But many of those Indians are runaway blacks or their offspring, the ‘maroons,’ and they’ll fight fiercely to keep the white man away. The cost to them is too high otherwise.”
“Captain Starke was incensed over the illegal slave trade in Florida.”
“It is a problem,” Jack admitted, running his hand through his hair. “Blacks are a valuable cargo, and without a strong naval presence in these waters, the profit outweighs the risks for the smugglers. Georgia and the territories are close enough to Florida slaves can be moved inland easily, and whenever you have money to be made, there are opportunities for mischief.”
Sophia bit her tongue to say nothing of Cartagenan privateers stopping British ships. Baiting him could only be taken so far. They walked in silence, but she couldn’t hold back.
“You would take three possums for me?”
“And not a possum less.”
When they got back to shore the men were loading the casks onto the ship and Jack sent some crew back to the Jade to fetch the trade goods and get the deer.
“They’ll dress it here on shore and we’ll dine on venison steak tonight,” He said to Sophia as he helped her back into the boat.
She wished they had spent more time on Key Marquez, but once they had the supplies Jack was anxious to continue up the coast to Fernandina. After a supper that was amazingly good—it was a wonder the difference fresh food made—Sophia spent the evening playing cards with Mick before giving the hammock a return engagement.
When she re-entered the cabin Jack was sitting up in his bunk again, arms crossed over his chest as he grinned at her.
“Another night, another go at the hammock, eh, Miss Deford?”
She ignored him and studied the contraption in front of her. This time, she pulled a small chest over to the hammock, stepped atop it, and pulled the side of the hammock toward her. Gingerly turning on her tiptoes like a dancer, she pulled the side of the hammock taut and carefully lowered herself into it, holding her breath. She managed to get her bottom into the hammock and while it swayed dangerously, she was firmly planted in it, her arms bracing her on the sides.
She looked over at Jack Burrell in triumph, but he wasn’t grinning any more. Sophia looked down and realized her knees were still spread to distribute her weight, and her nightrail was slipping off her shoulder.
“Seeing you in the hammock like that, the way it’s swaying back and forth, gives one ideas,” he said softly. “If I was to—”
“Good night, Captain Burrell!”
Holding onto the sides of the hammock, Sophia swung her legs in, then retrieved the pillow and blankets from beneath her head. She was getting more adroit at this. She looked back at Captain Burrell in time to see him throw the covers back and rise from his bunk. She refused to look away, not wanting to give him an edge over her.
It was obvious from his condition he was still thinking about what he could do with her in the hammock.
She couldn’t help the rush of color flooding her face, but said nothing when he retrieved his chest and moved it back where it belonged.
“I would not enjoy stubbing my toes in the dark,” he said over his shoulder as he climbed back into his bunk. “Good night, Miss Deford. Try not to fall out onto the deck.”
It was stunning to realize Captain Jack Burrell looked every bit as good from the back as from the front, Sophia mused, just before he blew out his lamp.