Christine Dorsey - [Sea 01] Read online

  “God’s blood!” Jack whirled around on the woman so fast she jerked back. But she still held the sword she’d scooped from the floor. He could tell she was frightened. Her eyes were wide and dark, but she kept the blade pointed at his chest. Unlike her father, or whoever the old man was, she didn’t seem inclined to attack him.

  Jack stepped forward.

  Miranda inched back. Her muscles were unsteady from holding the heavy sword. She longed to just drop it and run. But the pirate would catch her. And even if he didn’t, she couldn’t leave Don Luis alone with this monster.

  The pirate glared down at her, powerful arms folded across his broad chest. Blood seeped from the wounds she and Don Luis had inflicted, but the pirate didn’t seem to notice as he watched her from eyes the color of deepest sea.

  Then suddenly he lunged to his right. With a small squeal Miranda tried to follow the movement with the weapon. But before she realized her mistake, he lurched back and dove at her.

  The sword sailed.

  Miranda screamed.

  The pirate grabbed.

  Trying to evade his hands, Miranda jerked to the side. But her feet tangled in her skirts, and she tumbled to the deck. Caught off balance, the pirate followed.

  Air gushed from Miranda’s lungs as his massive weight crashed onto her. She tried to breathe and couldn’t. Tried to move and couldn’t. She was smashed between the unyielding wood at her back and the equally hard weight above her. And that’s how she would surely die.

  Miranda strove to remember that the body was only bones and muscle... that dying could be explained scientifically and thus was nothing to fear. But it didn’t help. She was going to die—die lying pinned beneath a pirate—and she didn’t want to.

  Then suddenly the weight above her shifted. Miranda gulped air into her lungs and blinked back tears of relief. She wasn’t going to be crushed to death after all.

  But there was still the pirate.

  Blowing hanks of ebony hair from her face, Miranda focused on him. He stared down at her. Light twinkled from the gold loop dangling from his left ear. The expression on his face changed from annoyance to amusement while she watched. She liked the annoyance better. How dare he make light of her predicament. If he planned to kill her, then obviously there was nothing she could do. But she wouldn’t tolerate being laughed at.

  Anger flashed through her. Normally she had an even temperament—her grandfather always said it was because she noticed very little of what happened around her. But he also said when temper finally came, it exploded with a vengeance.

  It came now.

  “Get off of me, you monster.”

  “I never could understand Spanish,” Jack responded. Actually, he thought he caught the word monster.

  The woman confirmed it by repeating herself in a language he had no trouble comprehending.

  “Well, well, the little Spanish princess speaks the King’s good English.” Jack couldn’t help grinning.

  “Of course I do. Now get up.” Miranda scrunched up her face and summoning all her strength shoved at his chest with the heels of her hands. His skin was warm and smooth.

  He didn’t budge.

  If anything he settled his body more firmly against hers. Miranda tried to wriggle free, but stopped when she heard his deep chuckle.

  “As much as I’d like you to keep that up,” he said in a voice that vibrated through the hands still plastered against his chest, “I don’t think moving like that is any way to be rid of me.”

  “Oh.” Miranda breathed the word in frustration. She couldn’t remember ever being so angry and so totally out of control. This pirate couldn’t be explained logically or scientifically, or any other way she knew. And she didn’t like it one bit.

  Her eyes were dark blue, not brown.

  Jack didn’t know why he even noticed except that when he’d first caught sight of her, he’d thought they were brown. They were so large and dark, and they were staring at him now with such frustrated anger that he couldn’t help being amused. She should be scared. Not that he planned to hurt her, any more than their unceremonious tumble already had. But she didn’t know that.

  Jack had a reputation to uphold. Fear made most of his prey surrender without a struggle, and Jack liked it that way. Less bloody. But if ships’ captains had half the spark of this woman, he’d have nothing but fights to the last man. And there’d be a lot more blood. He glanced down at his wounded arms. Like there was now.

  “Do you know who I am, my little Spanish princess?” A healthy dose of fear would do the wench good.

  “I am... not... a... Spanish... princess.” Miranda tried again to dislodge him, then flopped back to the floor with a grunt. She sucked in her breath. “And I don’t care a farthing who you are.”

  “Well, maybe you should.” Her softness was having an unsettling effect on his manhood, and Jack felt sure he should get up and out of here—de Segovia wasn’t in this cabin. But some devilish streak made him stay. “I’m—”

  “Everythin’ all right in here, Cap’n?”

  Jack turned his head around to see Phin standing in the doorway. His pistol was trained on the old Spaniard, who was slowly getting to his feet. But his eyes were on Jack and the woman sprawled beneath him.

  “Sorry, didn’t mean to be interruptin’ nothin’. Thought you might need some help.” Phin’s smile revealed three missing teeth. “Shoulda know’d better.”

  Jack only glared at his quartermaster as he pushed himself up. The woman ignored the hand he extended toward her, choosing instead to scramble unaided to her feet. She pushed past Jack, rushing to the old man’s side. Jack watched her lower him to a chair and brush her hand gently across his cheek. Then she reached up and tugged his wig straight. Turning, she faced Jack, her expression defiant, her chin high.

  “Do what you will. But be quick about it.”

  Jack’s brow arched. She was giving him an order. Him. And she looked as if she’d steeled herself for the worst he could offer. A sudden vision of tossing her over his shoulder and taking her on board the Sea Hawk flashed into his mind. But he just as quickly dismissed it. He might be a pirate, but he didn’t ravish unwilling women. Hell, he didn’t have to.

  Besides, what would he want with this one anyway? Her gown was dowdy, her hair a mess, and she didn’t appear to have enough flesh on her bones to make for an exciting exploration.

  But he couldn’t seem to break the stare they shared.

  “What you plannin’ on doin’ with them, Cap’n?”

  “What?” Something in Phin’s expression told Jack he realized his captain was having a difficult time keeping his eyes off the woman. “What?” he repeated, his voice stern.

  Phin took no offense. The years had taught him his captain’s temper quickly passed. Except when he dealt with the Spanish. With them he had no mercy. “I had me a little talk with this tub’s cap’n. And he swore this was the only Spaniard on board.” Phin ran his finger lovingly along the pistol’s muzzle. “I’ve a mind he was telling the truth.” He gestured toward Don Luis. “This ain’t the one, is it?”

  “Nay.” Jack turned toward the door and Phin, whose mouth gaped open.

  “God’s teeth, what happened to ye? Yer carved up like a Christmas goose.”

  Glancing down at his arms, Jack gave a snort. “These two.” He jerked his head in Miranda’s direction. “Decided to put up a little fight.”

  “They must’ve been a handful,” Phin cackled. “Never known ye to get so much as a scratch.”

  “That’s about all I have now,” Jack insisted, though the cuts stung like hell. But he didn’t want the woman to know that.

  “If’n ye say so, Cap’n. So what ye want me to do with these Spaniards?”

  “Nothing.” Jack had turned back to see the fire flash into the woman’s eyes when she heard Phin’s question.

  “Nothin’? We ain’t doin’ nothin’ with them?”

  “Them or the entire ship.”

  “But, Cap�
��n —”

  “We’re leaving, Mr. Sharp. Gather the men.”

  Calling him Mr. Sharp was a sign the captain meant business. But that didn’t stop Phin. “The crew ain’t goin’ to like this none, Cap’n. We’ve captured this here boat fair and square, we have. And she’s as plump as a pigeon.” Phin’s gaze swung around the cabin. “Just look at them crates. Could be filled with gold and jewels.”

  “Don’t you touch these boxes.”

  She moved so quickly Jack didn’t notice until she stood in front of a crate, her stance protective.

  In truth he had already decided to leave the cabin and the ship the way he’d found it—regardless of what Phin or the crew thought. But now, the way the woman acted, his avarice was titillated.

  He folded his arms: “What’s in the crates?”

  Her chin notched higher. “Nothing you’d understand.”

  Not nothing of value, or nothing you’d want, but nothing you’d understand. The woman was daft to speak to him so. Again he considered tossing her over his shoulder, but this time his imagination had him dumping her over the rail into the sea. He pushed the thought aside. When he spoke his voice vibrated from the overhead beams of the small cabin. “I asked what was in the boxes. In that box?” Jack pointed to the crate she shielded with her body.

  Blood drained from her face, and Jack suppressed a smile of satisfaction. He frightened the wench but good. Yet her next words made his brows draw together in a frown.

  “It’s one of Leeuwenhoek’s microscopes.”

  For a moment Jack figured she was speaking Spanish again. But then he realized he understood a few of the words: “it’s one of,” and the word “microscope” sounded familiar... he thought. He had no idea what it was, of course. Educating him hadn’t been one of de Segovia’s priorities.

  “For studying animalcules,” Miranda supplied as if she could read his mind.

  Jack’s eyes snapped from his contemplation of the wooden crate to meet the deep blue of the woman’s. “I see,” he said, though in truth he didn’t understand at all. His jaw clenched. “And where do you find these animalcules?” She must be talking about some kind of animal he’d never heard of before. Probably something that lived in the jungle or—

  “Oh, they’re everywhere. In a pond, the ocean, even the water you drink.”

  “God’s teeth, what’s she sayin’?” Phin exclaimed. “We got maggots in the biscuits true enough. But I ain’t never took a gulp of nothin’ with animals swimming in it. I’d a seen and fished ‘em out.”

  Miranda laughed despite her predicament. The smaller pirate seemed so appalled that she had accused him of drinking animals. “No. You don’t understand. We can’t see animalcules.”

  “Then, how does ye know they’re there?”

  Excellent question, Jack thought, exchanging a smug smile with his first mate.

  “Let me explain. You can’t see them with just your eyes. But with a microscope, one of Antonie van Leeuwenhoek’s microscopes, they’re quite clear. Leeuwenhoek uses a single lens, and he grinds it—”

  “Enough!” Jack’s bellow startled Phin, the woman and the little Spaniard huddled in the chair. And it certainly got their attention. This was ridiculous. The woman was lecturing using the same tone his tutor in Scotland had. And Phin was hanging on her every word like an enthralled schoolboy. They were pirates, by damn, and they weren’t going to listen to a bunch of bilge water about invisible animals.

  “Get above and gather the men. Remember I want no looting.”

  “But, Cap’n. Don’t ye think we could take that microscope thing? I’d sure like to get me a look at them little animals.”

  “Nay!” Jack took a deep breath which didn’t dissipate his anger. “We’re not taking anything. And for God’s sake, Phin, there are no little animals.”

  “Yes there are. You can see them very clearly with—” The big pirate speared her with a look that made Miranda stop. What was she doing anyway? She didn’t want to educate a band of pirates. And she certainly didn’t want them stealing her microscope.

  And to her great relief, it appeared they were going to leave her things and Don Luis... and herself... in peace. Miranda watched the pirates back out of the cabin. First the small dirty one. Then the big pirate captain. His eyes met hers. And she thought she saw his expression soften before he slammed the door shut.

  Knees that had held her firmly during the encounter with the pirate suddenly turned to mush. Miranda grasped hold of the crate she had protected only moments ago.

  “Mon Dieu!” Don Luis slumped farther into the chair. “I thought for certain they would kill us.”

  “Yes,” Miranda agreed. “I feared that myself.”

  “And with good reason. When I saw what that barbarian did to you... knocking you to the floor. Are you sure you’re all right? Your face is white as a ghost.”

  “Yes.” Miranda managed a weak smile to prove it. “Are you hurt?”

  “No.” Don Luis sat as tall as his short frame would allow. With deliberate care he straightened his wig and smoothed the ruffles at his neck. “It will take more than two freebooters to injure me.”

  Don Luis was regaining his fuss and fluster, and Miranda’s smile now came without effort. She pushed away from the box and retrieved the Principia from the floor. It had survived the fray as well as she and Don Luis.

  When she sat at the table the elderly Spaniard leaned forward and patted her hands. “In a moment I shall go on deck to see how the rest of the ship fared. In the meantime I think we should put this entire incident behind us.”

  “Oh, I agree.” Miranda carefully opened Newton’s book. The neat, orderly words explaining the laws of motion calmed and comforted her. Newton explained scientifically the attraction between the Earth and its moon. Universal gravitation.

  Miranda shut her eyes and tried to fill her mind with Newton’s words. But she couldn’t concentrate. A large, golden pirate kept intruding into her thoughts. For a moment when she had been squashed on the floor beneath him, she’d felt stirrings of something close to attraction.

  To hide her gasp of shock at this realization, Miranda coughed delicately into her handkerchief. How could she feel anything but loathing for the pirate? He was crude and detestable. Arrogant and ignorant. It just didn’t make sense. It couldn’t be explained logically.

  Thus it didn’t exist.

  Satisfied that she had solved the problem, Miranda pushed the pirate from her mind and concentrated on something she could explain and understand: gravitational attraction.

  Chapter Two

  “Is it as you expected?”

  Miranda swiped a strand of windswept hair from her face and shrugged. Turning she smiled at Don. Luis as he joined her at the rail. She’d clambered on deck early this morn to watch the ship sail into the harbor at Charles Town. “Not really.” Her gaze returned to the curved peninsula of land jutting into the harbor as she slipped easily into the older man’s native tongue. “But, then, I didn’t really know what to expect.” Lifting her hand, she shaded her eyes from the glare of the sun-shimmered water. A stiff breeze filled the sails as the ship skimmed toward land.

  “I’ve read Sanford’s accounts of his exploration in ‘66, and my father wrote me of Charles Town several times, but—” Miranda paused as she clutched the polished rail. “What if he doesn’t want me here? I think perhaps I should have waited for his reply to my letter.”

  “Nonsense. He will be delighted to see you. And the town does not seem so primitive. Look! A church spire. Where the Church puts down roots, civilization blossoms.”

  Miranda laughed at his attempt to cheer her. Don Luis didn’t understand the apprehension she felt about seeing her father. He seemed to think her more worried about living conditions in the New World. He also was probably a little confused about the church spire they saw.

  Don Luis was a devout Papist. Though the creed of the Carolinas followed many of John Locke’s views, including religious tolerance, Mira
nda doubted the town had a Catholic church. Spain and England might be allies now against the French, but animosity still ran strong.

  Which made Don Luis’s friendship with her grandfather and her all the more rare and special. “I wish you could stay here with me.” Miranda grabbed the old Spaniard’s hand and clutched it between her own.

  “You will be fine here with your father.”

  “But—”

  “And we will exchange letters. I will tell you of my planet sightings. And you—”

  “—will use my microscope to observe animalcules,” Miranda finished, smiling. “And I will study the flora. Just look at all the strange trees.” Miranda’s expression brightened as she scanned the lush, verdant foliage nestled against the walled town. “I will record my findings —”

  “And I will send them off to the Royal Society.”

  Don Luis shook his head, sending his long curls twirling. “A pity you cannot take credit yourself with the Society simply because you are a woman.”

  Miranda shrugged. “Perhaps someday. For now I shall learn what I can. We’re a long way from England and the Royal Society.” And right now that august body was the last thing on her mind. She’d come nearly three thousand miles to be with a father whom she scarcely remembered. A father who had left her mother and her when Miranda was no more than a babe in arms to come to the New World. A father who may want her no more now than he did then.

  The bellowing of orders and the scurrying of men to obey caught Miranda’s attention. Glancing up toward the web of rigging she saw the tars working to trim the sails and took a deep breath. For better or worse, she was in the Carolinas.

  “Oh, please do be careful with that. It contains a most valuable microscope. The lenses were ground by van Leeuwenhoek himself.” The sailor looked at Miranda as if she’d spoken a foreign language, though she was quite certain she’d used English. His expression betrayed annoyance, but he did seem to take more care as he settled the crate on his brawny shoulder.

  Miranda followed him across the plank, pausing a moment as her legs adjusted to solid ground. The dock was packed with men, and Miranda led the sailor, weaving through the crowd toward the cart she’d hired.