The Mermaid's Revenge

They would be in port in Charleston within twenty-four hours. Gregory had been working hard to help the crew become accustomed to the new ship. As nice as the Mermaid's Revenge was, she was not the Charlotte. The brig was full. It held five men, before their arrival, and it now had nine in it. That was all that had been left of the former crew. Most of them had perished. Unfortunately, Miller had, as well. Gregory wished he'd been able to save him.

But there were some good things happening, as well. Benny had hired on as a permanent crewman. Sarah would be working in the kitchen, helping the surviving cook. Chloe would be returning to England and acting as Arabella's lady's maid until she decided what she wanted to do.

Arabella. A huge grin broke out across his face as he thought of her. She'd been quite loving, since the pirate attack. She had taken frequent walks with him and had eagerly returned his kisses. She'd opened up more about her family and listened happily as he spoke of his. And he knew that he loved her with all his heart.

But the closer they got to Charleston, the more she showed obvious worry and distress.

"Captain." Earl's voice at his elbow, startled him. "Earl, calling the captain."

"I hear," Gregory said. "Just trying to figure out what else needs to be done before we leave Charleston for New Orleans. They'll paint her when we disembark. I'm going to change her name."

"To?"

"The Arabella. What else?"

"Does she know?"

Gregory shook his head. "No. I thought I'd surprise her. She's worried and more than a little irritable, right now. I'm tempted to put her over my knee and spank it out of her."

Earl sighed. "I'm having the same difficulty with Lily. You realize we have to include time for weddings when we disembark. Have you spoken to Arabella about it?"

"Not since I asked her the last time and she refused me. I know she loves me. I love her."

"Ask her again."

Gregory glanced at him. "We don't have much time. We'll be on our way to New Orleans within a week. The cargo must be delivered."

"What are you going to do with the gold and jewels we found in the ship?"

Gregory shook his head. "I don't know yet. If I had a clue to whom they belonged, I'd return them. But I don't. And the Mermaid crew in the brig isn't talking." He grinned. " Neither is Cooper or his new lady love. The men have taken to calling her Copper because of her coloring." He rolled his eyes. "And she's refusing Cooper's offers about the same as Arabella is mine."

Earl chuckled. "Ah, but you'll win out. Does Arabella know how wealthy you are?"

Gregory shook his head. "I'll tell her, but she doesn't care about wealth. She only cares about love. And I lack skill at wooing, I fear."

"Not from what I see. She's smitten. I'm sure of that."

Gregory glanced over at him. "When do you plan to tell Lily that Earl will be your title, not your name?"

"After we're married. If she goes through with it, I'll know she loves me for myself, not my name. She puts a great deal too much emphasis on titles. She doesn't realize that a title is accompanied by a great amount of responsibility. Lily has some lessons to learn." He leaned on the side and looked out to sea. "I have an idea."

"Tell me."

"It's the perfect answer." Earl rubbed a hand along his jaw. "Actually, it's the only way to resolve the situation Picou has created for them both. I was thinking…"

Gregory raised a brow. "I'm listening."

Earl looked behind him to make sure they were alone. "All right, then," he began.

* * *

It would be one of the last few meals they would eat together before reaching Charleston. The captain sat at the end of the table, as he always did, with Arabella at his left. Next to her was Chloe. On his right, sat Lily, who had Earl on her right.

The captain prayed over the meal, as usual, and sat down. The men followed.

But after a moment, Gregory nodded toward Earl, who got to his feet.

"I wish, my friends and comrades, to make a toast. To my true love, Miss Lily Collingwood, who will become my wife, tomorrow, when we reach Charleston. And to our future together."

"Here, here." A cheerful chorus echoed throughout the room.

Earl sat down next to Lily, whose hands were in her lap. Her face was pale, as she stared down at the table.

"Earl?" her angry whisper under her breath was heard by more than those at just their table. "You could have spoken to me about this before you…" She looked across the table toward Bella and then down.

Earl's smile disappeared as he looked down at her.

But now, Gregory was standing. "And I have allowed my first mate to show me up." He grinned. "But not for long. Tomorrow, I will also be marrying our beautiful and brave Miss Arabella St. John. You are all invited."

Cheers of, "Here, here," once again rose throughout the room. When he sat, Arabella and Lily were exchanging glances of fury.

At once, both of them stood. Their faces were crimson, their backs straight. Arabella reached for her mug. Holding it out as if to make a toast, she glanced down at Gregory.

"And here," she said. "Here is to bossy, arrogant, heavy-handed men, who need to remember that ladies are not property and should not be ordered about like—" She paused, unable to continue, and set her mug back down.

Lily, opposite her, looked around at the men with a stony face. "Here," she said, setting hers back down, hard enough that her water sloshed out of the mug. "Here."

Both of them left the table without further notice and marched out of the room.

A grumbling sound wafted over from the men toward the captain's table.

But Chloe stood up and moved into Bella's chair.

"Captain, I would like to say something."

Gregory glared at her a moment. Then. finally, he threw up his hands. "Be my guest, Miss Tucker."

She stood, tossing back her long curly red hair and fixing her blue eyes on them.

Finally, Gregory raised his voice as he said, "Miss Tucker has the floor. Please listen to her."

The room became quiet, and Chloe straightened her shoulders, meeting their eyes. "Women…" she said, looking from the captain to Earl "…are human beings. They should not be thought of as property, with no chance to have a say-so in their own lives and no chance to make decisions for themselves." She stared a moment longer. "And that, gentlemen, is all I have to say to you." She turned and sat down in Arabella's chair, staring at the captain, first, and then at Earl. "But not all I have to say to you."

Gregory stared. "Since you obviously seem to have a better idea what our ladies are thinking than we do, go ahead. I'm eager to hear it."

"First. They are not 'your ladies'. Not yet. Even Mr. Picou followed the rules of the game, better than you two. He courted, he asked—although he asked Bella's father instead of her. But most of the time, he followed society's rules in respecting them—at least openly—and at least made it look as if he was allowing them to make their own decisions. Yes, I know he's a scoundrel and a cad, but he allowed them to feel they had a choice in their own destiny."

The crew was still grumbling. Earl turned toward Chloe, keeping his voice down. "You don't understand, Miss Tucker. Lily has come to me and explained her situation, and although what you say may be true, she knows I seek only to protect her. She knows I love her and that I would give my life for her. If she loved me as much, she would understand I'm trying to do what's best for her. And, furthermore, Lily has to know that I will try to take care of this problem for her."

Gregory listened a moment, before speaking. "I have spoken to Arabella about this. Right now, she is upset and worried. She's trying to honor an agreement between her father and Picou, neither of which put her needs first. I'm trying to do that, and she's being stubborn and foolish."

Chloe turned to Earl. "Commander," she said softly. "When a lady comes to someone she loves and expresses her concerns and fears, it is because she wants him to listen. Not because she wants him to take care of it for her. If that's what she wants him to do, she'll ask him. If he comes up with suggestions, he should consult her before carrying them out."

Earl grinned at her. "In other words, I should have asked her before announcing grand plans for a wedding."

Chloe nodded. "That's exactly what I'm saying, sir." Then, she turned to the captain, a worried expression on her face, as if she was considering her words carefully. She took a deep breath, as if trying to dig up courage.

"Sir," she said softly. "You understand what it's like to have responsibilities. You, of all people, should understand Bella's problem with walking away from her duties. You are a man of order and plans. When someone else alters them, you spend countless days agonizing over it, because you, as the captain, are responsible for the outcome. But you do bend the rules when necessary, as you did for me and for my friends. I, above all others, know this to be true."

"Chloe." He nodded. "I do see your point. But time is running out, and these decisions need to be made now, to protect both of them before we arrive in New Orleans."

Earl leaned forward and added, "We will make port by morning."

Gregory nodded. "I appreciate what you say, Chloe. But there is no way in Hell we're heading down to New Orleans to allow Claude Picou to take advantage of either of them. Ever. Again."

Chloe sat up straight and looked, first Gregory, then Earl, straight in the eye.

"Then, I suggest, gentlemen, that perhaps you'd better start wooing your ladies. A good start would be to apologize for trying to back them into a corner."

Gregory rose and left the room, with Earl following.

The captain looked around the ship. At first, it occurred to him, in alarm, that perhaps she had gone overboard. But he found her down in steerage, in one of the berths, crying.

Moving quickly to her, he lifted her out of the hammock she was in. "Come here, my darling girl."

"I am not your darling girl," she said petulantly.

He smacked her bottom hard. "Indeed, you are exactly mine. But I do owe you an apology, as Chloe has so kindly explained to me, for getting ahead of us and announcing our wedding without consulting you first."

Raising her gaze slowly, she gave him a tearful glimpse. "Truly?"

"I had no intention of trying to make it seem as if you had no choice. My only intention was to find a way to keep you safe from Picou before we arrived in New Orleans. And I don't know how else to do that other than to have you marry me. If you're still unmarried when you arrive, he might well attempt to make off with you."

Arabella leaned over on his chest. "I didn't realize that's what you were doing. You could have told me—"

"I know," he whispered into her hair. Standing her to her feet, he held both hands and lowered himself onto one knee. "And I realize this is the most unlikely and unromantic place for a proposal, but here it is." He kissed first one hand, then the other. "Arabella St. John, would you please honor me by becoming my wife?"

She watched him, frowning, and he cocked his head. "Now, what?"

"You're quite right. It is most unromantic."

He lifted her up and put her over his shoulder, carrying her up the ladder.

"Gregory, let me go!"

"No."

"What? Why?"

"You'll see."

She kicked. He smacked her bottom.

"Be still, brat."

"I'm not a brat."

Another smack.

"Ow. That's mean."

"You think so?"

"Yes."

He had her to the second deck, now, but he hadn't realized he was in front of the door to the dining hall. He caught the look on Chloe's face just as he planted another swat on Arabella's wiggling bottom. His expression changed suddenly to a rueful grin, and he moved upward to the top deck with her, still carrying her over his shoulder. She was still pounding on his back.

The commotion from the crow's nest was deafening as he paused just long enough to look up. Lily was crying on Earl's shoulder.

"Where are you taking me?" Arabella's muffled voice said from behind his back.

"I'll show you. It's a surprise. Be quiet."

"This isn't romantic, Gregory."

"No? Give me about thirty seconds."

She sighed.

A moment later, he leaned forward and set her down on her feet. Moving her to stand in front of him, he wrapped his arms around her from behind.

"Hold out both your arms as far as you can reach. And open your eyes."

Slowly, she obeyed. And gasped.

"Gregory! It's beautiful!"

"It just occurred to me, I never did bring you up here. What do you see, my darling?"

"The crystal blue ocean. It's glorious. Oh, Gregory, I adore it." Her voice was little more than a whisper now.

His voice spoke into her ear, gently. "The very first thing you asked me was to bring you up here. I owe you such an apology, Arabella. You've asked for only one thing. I've scolded you, spanked you, and jumped into the cold turbulent ocean with you to swim to the nearest ship, but I never brought you the one place you asked to be. Here."

She turned in his arms and put her hands to his face. He knew that look. She was blinking, trying not to cry.

"Marry me, my darling?"

"Yes," she whispered. "Oh, yes!"

"Tomorrow?"

She glanced downward, at her dress, and he smiled. "I know your gowns all perished with the Charlotte. But I'll take you shopping, and we'll pick out some new ones, along with a wedding dress for you."

"What if we don't have time—"

"Then, we can marry the next day. As long as we're man and wife before we arrive in New Orleans. I want to do it right for you, sweetheart. But most of all." He tugged her into his arms. "I want you happy."

"Oh, Gregory," she whispered. "I will be!"

His hand slid downward, to cup her bottom, and gave her a light swat. "But you do understand I'll expect you to obey me?"

She reached behind her and moved his hand upward, to the small of her back.

He moved it back down. Another swat followed. This time, she giggled.

"I understand, sir. And I will."