Ransome's Quest (26 page)

James stepped forward, but Julia grabbed his coat sleeve to pull him back. “He’s baiting you,” she whispered. “Do not retaliate or respond.”

“Very good, Mrs. Ransome.” Shaw spoke around a wad of partially chewed apple. “You learn quickly.”

She pulled James back and then moved until she stood about half a step in front of him. Her stomach rumbled at the sight of the bowl of apples on the table and the plate holding half a biscuit beside it. She could not bring herself to choke down the gruel they occasionally brought her, and even if she could eat it, she did not imagine it would stay down.

“May…may I have that biscuit?” She hated herself for asking, but if she did not have some nourishment soon, she might become gravely ill. She’d seen what starvation did to people.

“This?” Surprised, Shaw lifted the scrap of hardtack from the plate. “Hungry, are you?”

Tears pressed against the corners of her eyes. “Yes, I am.”

He carried it toward her and held it out between thumb and forefinger. Julia reached her hands up.

Shaw released it. She lunged, but it was just out of her reach. It hit the floor and broke into four pieces.

“Have it if you want it.”

Pride or hunger? The tears pushed past her lids, and she knelt down. The fall had knocked out the remaining weevils, anyway—a few wriggled on the floor underneath when she picked up the pieces. She ate two before she regained her feet. The hard, floury bread absorbed what little moisture she’d had in her mouth, but she choked it down.

She blinked away the remaining vestiges of emotion and tucked the other two pieces of biscuit into her pocket.

Shaw came toward her again. She flinched, but he laughed, lifted her hands, and placed a pewter cup of water in them.

Too thirsty to be suspicious, she drank it. Brackish, but otherwise it tasted like plain water. Besides, she couldn’t imagine Shaw poisoning someone.

“Thank you.” She handed the cup back to him.

Shaw inclined his head with a half smile. “Of course. I want you to be fully awake and fully aware when I kill dear James.”

Julia used her position in front of her brother-in-law to impede his forward movement with her shoulder. “Should I not be presented with a new gown as well?” She looked down at the mess the dark blue damask had become. “Surely you would want me dressed in style to witness his execution.”

Shaw threw his head back and laughed, hands planted on his hips. “I like you, Mrs. Ransome. Truly, I do. It will be a pity to have to end your life. But we all have things to which we must attend.” He picked the dagger up from the table, wiped its blade on his pants, and resheathed it. “Collier!”

The man who had brought Julia up reappeared. “Aye, Commodore?”

“Please see these two back to the guest suite.”

“Aye, aye, sir.” Collier grabbed Julia’s arm and then reached for James.

“Oh, yes, wait a moment.” Shaw glanced over at some coiled rope. “Tie the good captain’s hands first—behind his back. We would not want him doing something rash, now would we?”

Julia went along cooperatively with Collier while James struggled and pulled. She could warn him again, but she doubted he’d listen.

She walked straight into the small compartment, turned, pressed her back to the wall, and slid to the floor. Collier needed both hands to shove James in. Once the door closed, she couldn’t see him but almost immediately knew where he was.

“I am a”—
thud
—“captain”—
thud
—“in His Majesty’s”—
thud
—“Royal”—
thud
—“Navy!”

Julia could picture him ramming his shoulder against the door. Her feet had yet to fully recover from the half hour or more she’d spent kicking at it the first time they locked her in this space.

She rested her roped wrists on her up-bent knees. “You will only injure yourself if you continue,” she said when the thudding paused.

“I have no interest in receiving advice from you.”

From the way he was moving around, if she stretched out her legs, she could trip him and make him stop that way. But like William and Charlotte, he was most likely stubborn and had to try things for himself before he would believe anything.

Silence fell after a particularly loud thud followed by a grunt and a sliding sound. Something hard hit her hip and elbow—his shoe.

“Sorry.” He moved his foot.

“For the kick or for not wanting advice from the likes of me?”

He didn’t respond.

“Would you be interested in hearing why we are here?”

Silence.

She sighed. “Fine. I will tell you anyway. It will help pass the time.” She recited Shaw’s story of how he became Shaw and why he wanted to take revenge on William and her father.

“So this is your father’s fault.”

If she had the energy, she would kick him for that. “No, this is Shaw’s fault. His fault for the choices he made as a young man and now. He was given the opportunity to adhere to the same code of conduct every sailor in the Royal Navy does. He, however, was more interested in drink and revelry to remember that proprieties needed to be observed. He is a violent, spiteful, angry man with an insatiable thirst for power.”

“And how much time have you spent with him to draw such conclusions.” James’s nasty tone made her glad no light penetrated the small room.

“I am a fast learner, Captain Ransome. It took receiving a fist in my face and being knocked unconscious only once for me to learn not to argue with him or question him or make demands.” She touched her still-tender cheek. “You may be strong enough to withstand his blows. I am not.”

James stayed silent for a long while. Julia closed her eyes and leaned her head against the wall. More and more, she found sleep lingering just a moment away.

“How long have you been here?”

She dragged her mind back to consciousness. “I am not certain. What is today?”

“Thursday, the sixth of October.”

Could she truly have been here so short a time? Only four days? “I was taken Monday, on my way from Tierra Dulce—my family’s sugar plantation—into Kingston.”

James made a derisive sound.

“We do not hold slaves, if that is the meaning of your scoff. We have not for almost twenty years.”

“I do not care about your plantation or slaves.”

“Then why do you behave toward me as if I am beneath you?” She once again blessed the darkness. She would not want to see someone who looked so much like William acting the way James did.

“You and your father—and my brother. The lot of you. Holding your honor and esteem and riches over everyone else. ’Twas luck only that saw William signed on to your father’s ship and not the captain I fell in with. My father and Admiral Witherington were great friends, you see, so of course the favorite son received Sir Edward’s patronage.”

“That is unfair. My father was not knighted until many years after William joined the crew of
Indomitable.
When your father made those decisions, there was no method of determining which captain would achieve fame and wealth and which would not. What is more important is that you and Philip and William all lived to see the end of the war.”

James snorted. “Oh, yes. So much more important. Of course, it makes no difference to anyone, least of all William, that Sir Edward took him publicly in hand. Practically declared William his son. Tell me, was marrying you part of the bargain so that William could officially become your father’s heir?”

Seething silently for a moment, Julia took a few deep, settling breaths. “Did you know I had a twin brother?”

“I heard something about that.”

“He was lost at sea when we were fifteen years old. Michael never wanted to join the navy, but he did it to please our father. Father rarely praised Michael. He pushed him to do better with his studies, to make himself stronger physically, to be the first to volunteer to do anything a superior might ask so he could gain patronage and rise swiftly through the ranks. In every letter Michael received, my father touted the successes of someone else—William. But Michael had something William did not. He was his father’s son. No matter how close William and my father have become over the years, William could never replace Michael. Nor could my father replace yours in William’s heart.”

“Reasoned like a woman. You speak of hearts; I speak of fortune and promotion.”

Pain spasmed in the back of Julia’s left leg. She stretched it out in front of her to alleviate the cramp. “What good does being jealous over what your brother has do you? You sound like a child who has received a beautiful toy as a gift but is unhappy with it because he wants the toy his brother received instead. Be thankful for what you have, not bitter over what someone else has.”

James released a weak laugh with a hint that he meant it to sound sardonic. “Thankful for what I have? I’ve lost my ship, my crew, and am being held captive by a pirate who wants to kill me for something that is no fault of mine.”

“You can still be thankful.”

“For what?”

Julia rubbed at the twitching, cramping muscles in her leg, wishing she could take a long walk to stretch it out. “You can be thankful you are not already dead. As long as we’re alive, there is always the hope of rescue.”

William sat in his desk chair, elbows on knees, head in hands, staring at the deck between his feet. Julia’s brother—believed lost at sea at age fifteen—was alive. Not only alive, but a pirate. From a certain point of view, Salvador’s…Michael’s…explanation of everything he’d done from the time of his capture to now made sense. He had kept careful account of how much money he had taken from Tierra Dulce, considering it a portion of his inheritance.

That a lad of such tender years had the moral fortitude to turn his back on vast amounts of wealth gained through violence spoke to the strength of love and discipline he’d received at home before he went to sea. While William wanted to credit Sir Edward with that, in truth the admiral had been a greater presence in William’s younger years than in Julia’s and Michael’s. Jeremiah was more father figure to Julia than Sir Edward.

Yes, that would explain Michael’s desire to free slaves, if Jeremiah had been like a father to him. Again, another reason to understand Michael-Salvador’s actions.

But how could Michael Witherington have allowed his family to believe him dead all these years? Julia, especially.

The haze brought on by the shock of Michael’s revelation now gone, William rose, straightened his waistcoat and coat, and returned to the dining cabin.

Ned’s and Michael’s soft voices ceased upon William’s appearance. “I do apologize for walking out on you so abruptly.” He resumed his place at the head of the table. “Captain Witherington—” he paused. “I no longer see the need for pretense, do you?”

Michael shook his head.

“Good. Tell me why you took Charlotte.”

“I meant to take Julia. Her return to Jamaica was well heralded once she was spotted in Barbados. I heard rumors that Shaw intended to grab her. I decided to take her first to protect her from Shaw.” Michael, whose face did bear some resemblance to Sir Edward, traced his finger along the edge of the table. “You might not believe me, but over the last ten years, since striking out on my own, I have made a point of checking in on Julia regularly. She has always been under my protection.”

He smacked his open palm against the table and then settled himself with a deep breath. “’Twas quite dark that night. I had not seen my sister up close since we were fourteen. And I did not know another young woman had accompanied her home. I saw a woman kissing a man in a Royal Navy uniform on the porch. I made the assumption it was Julia and took her. By the time I realized my mistake, we were too far away to return. The alarm must have already been raised. It was too dangerous to leave Miss Ransome alone and hope she could find her way back to the house. So we had to bring her with us. But I vow nothing untoward happened.” He grinned. “Nothing except the escape attempts.”

William would wait to hear those stories later. “What did you plan to do after kidnapping Julia?”

“Plant rumors that Shaw had her. Wait for you to subdue him and make sure he was no longer a threat. Then return Julia to Tierra Dulce.”

“And then you would go back to pirating?”

“No, sir. Since Parliament abolished the transportation of slaves in British ships seven years ago, I have had to extend my hunting range to include the eastern coast of America. However, they have also since passed laws prohibiting the transatlantic transportation of slaves. Though I could still raid plantations overland and free slaves that way, that plan did not suit my men, who prefer to be at sea. So at the onset of war between America and England, I sailed north and enlisted my ship in the service of the United States as a privateer for two years.” He withdrew a folded piece of parchment from his pocket and handed it to William.