Chapter One
February 1798, Port of Nassau, Bahamas
“England? Why would I want to go there?” Vivian Jamieson planted her hands on her hips, and faced her father across the expanse of his great teak desk.
A warm tropical breeze blew into the room, rippling the white curtains. The morning sun cascaded across the smooth wooden floors, turning them a honey gold. Any other morning, she would be curled up in one of the two massive leather chairs sketching, while her father sat companionably working nearby. But this morning when she entered the room, his face had been unusually grim, and no wonder with tidings such as this.
“Vivi, I have kept you with me for longer than I should have for my own selfish reasons.” Captain Robert Jamieson stood, a frown identical to his daughter’s graced his craggy, tanned face. “You are almost twenty-two. It’s time you married. Don’t you want to have a family of your own?”
Her heart plummeted. The taut angle of his jaw convinced her he was serious. How could he ship her off to England where she knew absolutely no one?
“Why London?” Her brain scrambled for a proper argument. “There are plenty of men here in Nassau.”
“Like who?” Her father snorted. “A bunch of ship captains and merchant traders, not to mention pirates. Your mama was a lady from a fine English family, and she gave up her status, her connections, for a salty dog like me. You deserve to take advantage of your bloodline. This is a chance for you to meet a titled gentleman. You need someone who can take care of you in the style you are accustomed. And on dry land!”
Vivian bristled. “Papa, I love the sea. I’d never be interested in marrying some pale-faced London dandy.”
Her father held up one hand to stave off her next argument. “I have already written to your aunts, and they are ecstatic to sponsor you for the season.”
Aunts? Her mother had never spoken of her family in England. She had told many a bedtime story to Vivian featuring grand balls, operas, and garden parties. Vivian smiled, remembering those bedtimes snuggled up next to her mother listening to stories of faraway England. The stories had seemed like fairytales; she never imagined they were memories of real events. Vivian brushed impatiently at a stray curl tickling her cheek.
As though reading her thoughts, her father gave her a crooked smile. “Sending you to London to have a season was your Mama’s fondest wish.”
She raised one eyebrow. “Truly?”
Rose Jamieson had died when Vivian was fourteen, and she still felt the dull ache of grief. Mama loved the islands. She left England to run away with her dashing sea captain, choosing love over duty. Vivian studied her father. He still looked rather dashing. Dark hair spilled over his shoulders, framing fierce tan features, his posture straight and strong.
Her father had been a pirate, his reputation for being cunning and ruthless feared by merchant ships sailing through the Caribbean. Her mother said he had blown into her life like a gale force wind, stealing her heart. Papa stopped pirating when he married Mama. He used his many connections to create his shipping empire. His unique skills enabled him to navigate his ships safely through these dangerous waters.
Her heart warmed remembering the bond her parents shared. She and her mother had sailed with Papa several times a year, and together the three of them had seen many wonderful places. After Mama passed, Papa would take her with him on board his ship whenever he left port. They'd weathered the storm of sorrow together. They had become inseparable. How could he send her away?
She tried a different approach. “But Papa, who will run the household here?” She smiled up at him. “Who will take care of you?”
“I’ve cared for myself for quite a while, young lady. Vivi, you are going to London to find yourself a respectable husband. I won’t be around forever. I need to know you are cared for properly.”
Desperation rose in her throat. She didn’t want to leave the island, to be so very far from her father. “But Papa…”
“That is my final decision,” he roared. Turning his back to her, he walked over to the windows.
She stood speechless for a moment as her father gazed out to where the palm trees swayed in the garden beyond. Tears burned at the back of her eyes. She stormed out of the room and slammed the door behind her.
Vivian strode through the house, swallowing the lump in her throat. Despite his reputation for being one of the most feared men in the Caribbean, he never raised his voice with her. She’d rarely seen him so unyielding. Emerging outside, she paused and lifted her face to the sky. The bright afternoon sunshine infused her with its warmth.
Fuming, she stalked to the stable yard where her chestnut mare grazed. Since when did he care about her marrying well, or at all for that matter? Ignoring the stable hand nearby, she gathered her skirts and stepped up onto the fence railing. She grabbed Ruby’s mane and deftly swung herself onto the mare’s bareback. Tapping her heels to the horse’s flank, she bent low over her neck. “To the cove, Ruby.”
The mare started forward, absolutely in sync with her, and they flew across the grassy field toward the ocean, moving as one.
****
Captain Jack Aston rode north along the edge of the ridge, his back rigid with annoyance. Loading cargo onto his ship and preparing for departure required his attention. But when Robert Jamieson summoned, no man refused. Not only was Captain Jamieson the wealthiest landowner in the Bahamas, but quite possibly the most notorious ex-pirate in these waters. Jack had a more personal reason for answering Jamieson’s summons—he owed him and his wife a debt from almost a decade ago. No doubt the time had come to honor that debt.
As Jack reached the top of the low ridge, he reined in his horse and took in his surroundings. From his vantage point he could see quite a far distance. He spotted the white sails of merchant ships bobbing along the horizon, and the roof tops of houses in town. In the surrounding trees the cheerful chatter of birds echoed. A warm breeze swept across his face, bringing with it the sweet scent of hibiscus. To the left, he spied his destination, the massive stone and wood house set atop the next hill like a castle in the sky. And to his right, the ground sloped steeply down to a beach, sheltered by trees, a strip of bright white sand melted into the turquoise blue waters.
Just as he turned his horse to the left, a flash of color caught the corner of his eye. Out of the trees burst a young woman running at full speed. Before she reached the water’s edge, she paused. The lilac dress she wore dropped to the sand, and she nimbly stepped out of it wearing nothing but a bright-white chemise. In one graceful dive, she disappeared under the surf. Several long minutes passed before he spotted her some fifty feet from shore, swimming and diving like a dolphin in the rolling waves.
She looked like a mystical water nymph straight out of an old sailor’s tale of the sea. Mesmerized, he sat frozen atop his horse, enthralled by her clear enjoyment of the water. When was the last time he had a swim just for the pleasure of slicing through the waves? Hell, when was the last time he had the opportunity to do anything just for fun?
He had spent the last twelve years working like a dog on one ship or another. He’d craved the freedom to be his own boss, to be the Captain. Now with ships of his own to helm, he had the responsibility of managing the hundreds of details his business entailed. His life was all business all the time.
