I took hold of the handrail to go after him, but Mr. Ashby held on to me, shaking his head. “Patrice needs you here,” he said quietly.
I looked at her and saw how she stumbled from pain. He was right; I couldn’t leave my friend when she was in such a state. I looked into his eyes. “Don’t leave us,” I pleaded.
“I’ll be right here,” he said.
Before we knew it, theMaelstromwas in motion, and from the view out the porthole, I could see that we had already left the other two ships behind us. TheMaelstromcertainly was swift.
“Jane!” an unfamiliar male voice said from the hatch. He came down and the woman ran into his arms without hesitation.
The man came over to us and bowed. “Thank you for taking care of my wife. I don’t know how to repay you,” he said in a thick German accent. He was a tall man with very honest eyes. Without knowing anything about him, I would assume he was trustworthy and kind simply from those eyes.
“Thankfully, you made it out safely as well,” I said to him.
“Because of Captain Whitmore.” He glanced at his wife and they both nodded.
“Do you know the captain?” I asked him.
He nodded. “I’ve known him for a few months now, but only through post. He seems very well connected in St. Kitts. He warned me of the privateers, but I didn’t expect him to come rescue us personally. We were just trying to avoid them, but they came upon us too quickly and the passenger ship we were on didn’t have enough time to prepare the meager guns they had…” He frowned. “I’m afraid that the captain of our ship didn’t make it.”
“Thank heaven for Captain Whitmore,” the woman said breathlessly. “We were almost parted from each other in this mortal life.” She was holding her husband’s face with the kind of worry only a woman in love could replicate.
And yet, the urgency in Mr. Ashby’s movements rivaled hers as he stood and reached out to inspect my neck where the pirate’s blade had cut me, tracing a finger over the thin line. I winced at his touch, the wound still tender. His expression was a mixture of despair and rage. I pulled his hands away from me, holding them lightly. “I’m all right,” I assured him.
He nodded silently, then pulled his hands from mine and sat down again. “How did Captain Whitmore know you’d be targeted by the pirates?” he asked the husband, almost as if he meant to distract himself from my injury.
The man sighed. “Because I am the bishop called to the Cayon Mission on St. Kitts, and it seems the pirates target protestants. My name is Henry Weiss.”
“Just the man we’ve been looking for,” a man said from behind Mr. Weiss. He was short but stocky and had quiet footsteps, which waswhy he had remained unnoticed until he spoke. His nose was long and pointed, as if it was made to stick into people’s affairs. His eyes were full of intrigue, though they were small and not remarkable from a distance.
He had sustained multiple injuries, it seemed. He was bleeding on his forehead, arm, and leg. “Our pirate friends tend to target U.S. ships—bad blood between the French and the Americans, you see. So we have been lying in wait for a few days now. It was poor luck that they happened upon you before we did. Ol’ Pirate Jacque doesn’t take kindly to thriving, honest businesses or protestant missionaries.”
“Captain Corsaire,” Mr. Ashby growled. My mind went to his cruel laugh and large hat that had flown off his head after a shot from a rifle. Who had that other man been?
“My name is Jimmy Knox, actually. But you can call me Whisper.” He flashed a smile, then spoke to Mr. Ashby’s comment in earnest. “How do you know Ol’ Jacque’s name?” Whisper—what a strange name—said. He sat, then ripped a strip of cloth from his shirt to tie around the wound on his leg. I wondered if he should call for the surgeon instead.
Mr. Ashby curled his fist on the table. “He was the one who destroyed our ships and ruined our business.” He turned to me. “He was the one Graham went after.”
“And he’s the one who nearly killed Slate, too. We found him a bloody mess in the streets of Basseterre,” Whisper told us.
My protectiveness snapped to attention. “Who is this Captain Corsaire, exactly?”
The man spoke with the kind of simmering fury that stoked rebellions. “He is the captain of the ship we just fought. He and his crew are a scourge on the West Indies, St. Kitts and Nevis specifically. They are the last of Napoleon’s letters of marque, so everything they do ispiratical in nature. He’s gained control of the Leeway Islands, bribing and threatening the government as he sees fit. He destroys lives and livelihoods smuggling everything from gold to human beings. We are the only ship in the Caribbean besides the American and Royal Navies who oppose him, and we happen to be sponsored by the same person who funds the mission. Mrs. Mary Bowers.”
Chapter 19
Wedidn’tlearnanythingmore about Mary Bowers for the remainder of the journey. Whisper returned to the upper deck to find the surgeon. The bishop and his wife were taken to a cabin for rest by the beautiful, daring, umber-skinned woman, whose name I had yet to learn. The confident and powerful way she moved intrigued me more than I could say, but I waited for my chance to speak with her. She seemed busy each time I saw her. I assumed she was one of the mates on the ship, judging by the way others seemed to respect her.
Mr. Ashby, Patrice, and I watched the crew come and go. It was dark now, the porthole nearest us showing a smattering of stars in the sky. We didn’t speak, partly from exhaustion, and partly from…I wasn’t sure what. All I knew was that too many thoughts and emotions were swirling around in my head, and I didn’t think I could form a coherent sentence if I tried.
At length, the elderly and regal man I’d seen fighting the pirate captain came down the hatch and walked over to us. “You must be Miss Findlay,” he said to me.
“I am,” I responded. My voice sounded distant and strange to me.
“I’m Captain Whitmore. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Thank you for allowing us on your ship, Captain,” I said.
“I heard you were a hero today,” he said with a smile. It was then I noticed blood on his shoulder, soaked through the linen. Hadanyoneon board been unharmed?
