The pirate vomited a mound of curses on the monkey, the place of his birth, and his equally repugnant relatives.
Ropes were freed, men settled on thwarts, and oars were clamped in oarlocks as they shoved off from theSummons.
Emeline waited until no one paid her any mind, then slowly opened her hand.
The Ring of Solomon sparkled in the sunlight.
Chapter 9
“C
ap’n says to go ’ere an’ give the woman what lives there this note.” Finn handed Emeline a torn piece of parchment and a small pouch, but his eyes were on a pub house across the street. Licking his lips, he shoved his pipe back into his mouth.
Beyond him, Charlie marched down the walkway, weaving around citizens and slaves.
“Why does your captain not join your debauchery ashore?” Emeline asked.
Finn reached beneath the stained bandana covering his head and scratched what had to be flea-infested hair. “None o’ yer business, Miss, wit’ yer fancy words. Now, get on wit’ ye.” He waved her away like a stray dog. And with that, he joined the other pirates who’d come ashore and headed for the tavern.
Leaving Emeline all alone with a note, a bag of coins, and a terror that threatened to consume her.
What sort of man with a speck of decency left a lady alone in a nefarious port town without benefit of escort?
Tears threatened to burst. She stomped her boot in the sand. Nay! She must be strong like her family. She must trust that God had a plan. She touched the Ring she’d stuffed in her pocket and wondered how long before Captain Keene noticed it missing. More importantly, why had Bandit given it to her? Of a truth, he was a thieving little monkey. But why her? She smiled. Regardless, it gave her some satisfaction that after all his trouble acquiring it, the devious captain had lost it again. Served him right.
Her eyes latched upon Charlie, her unusual attire causing a stir amongst the crowd through which she confidently strode. Why did she not join the other pirates for a drink? A sudden urge to follow the woman swept away Emeline’s dire circumstances.
'Twas easy to keep from being seen amidst the bustling morning crowd of citizens shopping, servants hurrying to do their master’s bidding, and the poor slaves, hauling heavy loads on their backs. Wagons filled with goods brought ashore rumbled over the cobblestones, followed by beribboned carriages from which peered gentlemen and ladies in their finery. Such a contrast between those privileged with wealth and those who lived and breathed at the pleasure of their masters. But life was full of contrasts, wasn’t it? And injustices. For here she was, the granddaughter of an earl, but as poor as any slave on the island.
Charlie rounded the corner of a mercantile and started down a narrow dirt road that ascended a hill. Finally, just as Emeline’s breath began to heave from the exertion, the woman turned down a pathway to a group of houses clustered together and entered one of them on the far right.
Emeline crept closer for a better view. A pub? Brothel? Store? Nay. None of those things. The woman, no doubt, had a paramour here in town, which would explain her emotion earlier on board the ship.
Whatever the case, ’twas none of Emeline’s affair, for Charlie had made it quite clear she would ne’er defy her captain. With a sigh, she spun on her heels and headed back toward the main part of town.
The note readCayon Street. Three houses on the right. The red one.
The rest of the note was in French, but Emeline knew enough of that language to guess at the words.
Prenez soin d'elle. Mot envoyé à son père. Il vous récompensera. Signé
Vôtre, Blake
Take care of her. Word sent to her father. He will reward you. Yours, Blake. Yours, indeed. Emeline huffed. No doubt one of the captain’s many mistresses spread across the Caribbean.
She bit her lip. But hedidsay he’d sent word to her father. She glanced up from the note to see a group of men staring at her from across the way. Pirates or sailors from the looks of their garish attire, feathered tricorns, and myriad swords and pistols strapped on their hips. One of them doffed his hat, bowed slightly, and winked.
Oh, my. Heart slamming against her ribs, she hurried to get off the streets posthaste. A woman alone was sure prey for these ruthless libertines.
The red house was easy to find. Hands trembling, she knocked on the wooden door, casting a glance behind her. Thankfully, her admirers had given up following her.
A woman with hair as red as her door answered. A would-be beauty if not for the paint on her face and lips and the overtight bodice that pushed her bosoms up near her chin.
Her gaze traveled over Emeline with suspicion. “Oui?”
Captain Keene had sent her to a brothel! Fury boiled in her veins as she stood there, unable to speak, unable to move. Laughter brought her gaze down the street where another group of slovenly men sauntered past.
She handed the woman the note.
