“Am I? Then why do I feel you have been defending too easily a slave and pirate? What if I told you that he is marrying a girl from Tortuga? What would you think then?”
Claire looked away. Her vision blurred. After a moment, her voice was less steady than before. “Why should I believe such tales?”
“Is it not commonplace among the Black Devil’s crew?” continued Lady Morton settling in her chair like a hawk on a perch.
“Commonplace? But he cannot marry.”
“And why ever not? Pirates are people and can fall in love then marry. Why is it you object to Captain Blackmon’s nuptials?” Lady Morton probed.
Claire could not possibly comment
“She is a wild thing they say, complimenting his nature, don’t you think?” Lady Morton put exactly two teaspoons of sugar in her tea, stirred, studying Claire under narrowed eyes. “So really it’s all for the best. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“I dare say, civilization fashions a cloak even for savages,” Claire said because she had to say something clever to cover her odd reaction. Because she felt too stunned to cry.
Captain Smith opined. “According to his navigator, it should be taken into consideration that the Black Devil’s present outlawry might well have been undertaken not from inclination, but stress from sheer necessity. He had been forced into it by the circumstances of his transportation and unjust sentencing. It is noted that he doesn’t normally attack British ships.”
“Rubbish. He seizes every ship of cargo I send to England.” Jarvis growled his contempt.
“He does have a particular fondness for you,” said Governor Stark, pulling at the lace on his cuff. “Perhaps if you had treated him better…”
“I should have gelded and hung him when I had him.”
Claire threw a ball to James, a precocious boy, who stood across the lawn of Plantation House. On this bright sunny day, she and Lily hosted a party for the island orphans. Jarvis had made clear he did not want the brats disrupting his home. The governor had cajoled her uncle with an implied order that resulted in the outdoor celebration. Jarvis had gone into town for the day and she and Lily relaxed without the extra tension of having her uncle around. He had boasted of a surprise. Claire shuddered.A surprise like a cobra stuffed in a basket?
Claire had been alone for over a year. Being with the children was her chance to build a place for herself. After the devastation of the plague, she had rallied the islanders to donate money to care for the children who had lost their parents from the disease. With the governor behind her, a home was purchased and supplied with necessities. Lily and she spent an inordinate amount of time volunteering by reading, teaching and caring for the youngsters.
She smiled when James caught the ball then panned a fake injury. The other children giggled. He picked up a stick and flourished several swipes through the air. “I’m the Black Devil pirate,” he crowed and chased the children. Lost in a cacophony of screams and laughter, they dispersed about the grounds and seized the day.
The mention of the Black Devil pirate tugged at Claire’s heart. She shrugged. James, her favorite, a mischievous boy with endless energy, dimples, and green eyes was so much like Devon. Fate had changed Devon. How little she really knew him had hit her square between the eyes. His womanizing and piracy was beyond anything she could accept.
How she wished she owned this beautiful plantation. Strong inclinations rattled up her spine and urged her to keep on exploring. Searching over and over again reaped continued failure. Jarvis had caught her one time rifling through his room. She had told him Cookie had mistakenly put the book she was reading in the drawer next to his bed. Jarvis didn’t buy it and took to locking his room.
She sighed when James had entered through the open doors of the library. She had told the children the interior of the house was off limits. Leave it to James to break the rules.Crash. Claire balled her fists. What did he break? She stalked into the library. An expensive inlaid table had been overturned. She prayed the table was not damaged. Jarvis would have her head.
“I’m sorry, Miss Claire. I didn’t mean to do any harm.”
He was so contrite she didn’t have the heart to chastise him. As he righted the table, a panel in the bottom released.
“Look, Miss Claire. A secret drawer. No treasure, just papers,” he said disgruntled.
Claire rummaged through the papers, coming to one that looked quite legal with a stamp of some sort. Her heart leaped and her hands shook as she unfolded the documents. She held her breath, saying a silent prayer as she opened it. Her breath hitched.The deed. Reading quickly, the papers stated the plantation was deeded to her father’s descendants in the eventuality of his death. She clutched the papers to her heart and choked down a sob. As a small inconsolable child, she remembered feelings of anger and vulnerability. Nothing had assuaged the grief of their deaths.How could they have abandoned her? How could her father who loved her have left her unprovided?But her father had thought of her. He had died and left her the plantation. He had not abandoned her. “You dear boy, these are far more valuable than treasure.”
The boy frowned and Claire hugged him. “Outside, my friend.”
Claire tucked the papers beneath her arm and sought Lily. In a shaded corner of the garden, they poured over the contents. “Jarvis does not own the plantation. Do you know what this means? Freedom. I will not have to do his bidding. I can send him away. We can live here in peace, Lily.”
Her cousin narrowed her eyes. “Understanding Jarvis’s greed, there may be the possibility your father did provide for you, but perhaps your uncle manipulated the will and stole what was rightfully yours.”
Hadn’t Devon indicated the same line of thinking? Didn’t the older islanders indicate her father would not leave his estate to his brother? She was older and wiser. The deed presented an opportunity. She would fight. “How do we get to England? I must hire a solicitor to establish ownership. I have no funds.”
The halt of a carriage and servants pouring out to greet the occupants drew their attention.
“Claire,” Jarvis ordered.
She stuffed the precious documents in Lily’s arms. “Hide them in my room.” She hushed the children and instructed them to eat at the table. If only her uncle had stayed on his errand. She wanted time to go over the documents and she hated to disappoint the children. Jarvis had insisted they return to the orphanage upon his return.
Her stomach clenched as she rounded the hedgerow. Sir Jarvis struggled to get out of the carriage. In tow was her surprise. The cobra decked in lace and satin was out of the basket.
