Fortune's Flames

by Janelle Taylor

Genres: Historical Romance

Synopsis

Maren James was unprepared for the torrent of emotions that engulfed her when her ship was boarded by the notorious Captain Hawk. Impatience turned to raging desire when the dashing buccaneer strode into her cabin, and before she could think to resist, the luscious ebon-haired beauty was succumbing to the pirate's masterful touch.

Release date: October 24, 2011

Publisher: Zebra Books

Print pages: 516

Sample

Maren James stared at the handsome blond man standing before her. She did not want to believe him, but she knew Eric would not lie to her about something this grave. “My parents are dead and everything is lost?” she murmured. When he nodded, she argued, “Itcannot be true. Why didn’t you tell me sooner? You said everything was fine at home.”

“I couldn’t tell you this news before we left London because I didn’t want to distress our grandparents. They’re not strong enough to endure the loss of another son. It’s only been three years since my father and mother were killed in that hotel fire and they still agonize over their deaths. Grandfather blames himself for that tragedy because he sent his sons to America to expand his shipping business. With Father gone and this war ruining our trade, I just couldn’t place another burden on them. They’re old and weak, Maren; they won’t live much longer. This news could devastate them.” Eric inhaled deeply. “Let them be happy until we’re forced to break their hearts again. Surely you understand and agree with my decision to remain silent, don’t you, little cousin?”

Maren could not fault Eric’s compassion and generosity. Her look and nod said she agreed with his behavior in London.

The green-eyed Eric, now a man of twenty-three, stroked her cheek. “I know this news is hard on you, little cousin, and I wish I didn’t have to be the one to tell you. Things have been chaotic at home and abroad since the war started and Uncle Cameron… passed away. I tried to get to you sooner, but this damned blockade is nearly impossible to run. I’ve lost two ships and crews since January, both loaded with expensive cargoes, and we almost got caught several times on our way over here. Blasted British! You’d think they’d be tired of fighting by now. It makes me ashamed of my ties to them. Why can’t they be content with Napoleon’s defeat? Do they need to crush us too?”

“If it’s as bad as I’ve heard and read, why did you risk a trip to London? You could have been killed or captured.”

Eric smiled in response to the concern and affection evident in Maren’s whiskey-colored eyes, aware that she was trustful and innocent. “President Madison received a coded message from some British traders and lords who want to help bring about a hasty end to this absurd conflict, secretly of course. It seems that the only ones who want to fight us are the Royal Navy and that mad King. Anyone with intelligence knows Britain can’t lick us, at least not easily. You’d think they would have learned their lesson when they tried to conquer us nearly forty years ago. Blast them! It’s stupid for either side to refuse to negotiate a treaty. Even if we battle from now until forever, there can be no real winner, and it riles me to watch them destroying everything our parents built. Honestly, Maren, what gets into people to make them behave this way?”

“I don’t know, Eric. It seems such a terrible waste of lives and properties. Yet, both sides must feel action is necessary or we wouldn’t be at war. What happened at home?” she asked, trying to return the grim conversation to her personal losses, but Eric’s mind was elsewhere.

“The President was told to send someone those Englishmen knew and trusted to collect the money. They suggested that my older brother handle the secret dealings because they’ve done business with the American offices of James Shipping for years and they trust us. But Murray has a broken leg and couldn’t make the voyage. Since they know me too, I was asked to take his place. Besides, Murray was born in Britain, so he could be impressed if captured. I’m an American and have ‘protection papers’ to prove it.

“I agreed to take on this crucial task because I’ll do anything to have this war over quickly. I admit I used deceit, false papers, and false flags as a cover in order to fetch you home, but I had no choice. If I hadn’t picked you up, my trip to London would have looked suspicious to some people. There are spies everywhere, and traitors on both sides. If you tell anyone about this mission, I could be hunted down and killed. Our President and country are depending upon me, and on this money, to hold our enemy at bay. As I said, little cousin, if I had left you there, I couldn’t have told you about Uncle Cameron and Aunt Carlotta. I didn’t want you to hear about them from strangers; news like this should come from one of the family.”

He hurried on before she could remind him that he had not done the same for their grandparents. “I like peace and prosperity, and I don’t want James Shipping wiped out before the war ends. I admit I prefer being rich and important. I guess that makes me selfish and greedy and vain, but I can’t help it,” he said. Then he chuckled.

Maren did not laugh with him. She did not want to discuss her cousin’s problems, flaws, or patriotism. “I need to know about my mother and father, Eric. I was so stunned by your first words that I hardly heard your explanation. It sounds as if I’m returning to nothing and no one.”

The playful sparkle left his green eyes and he became serious. “I’m sorry, little cousin; I forgot about your troubles. I’ve known about this tragedy since last summer, so I’ve accepted it, as you’ll have to. Our parents are gone, Maren, and we can’t bring them back. At least yours didn’t have to endure the terror and agony mine did during that fire. They would want you to be strong and brave. And don’t worry; I’ll protect you and take care of you.”

As he was speaking, Eric’s impenetrable gaze took in the beautiful woman before him. To her Spanish mother, Maren owed her very dark brown hair, which she wore loose most of the time. It was thick and shiny, framing her oval face and ending just below her shoulders, and it waved becomingly. And although her skin was darker than that of most women who caught his eye, it suited Maren’s looks and personality. Its olive shade blended perfectly with her dark hair and golden brown eyes. His cousin was slim and shapely, and had a good height for a woman—five and a half feet. With her slightly turned up nose, large eyes, and exquisite mouth, Maren was a beauty who easily captured many hearts and eyes.

She was presently wearing a cream-colored muslin gown, decorated with leafy sprigging, and deep green kid slippers. After sailing, she had removed her green velvet Spencer jacket and had placed an ivory lace shawl around her shoulders to ward off the morning chill. Her day dress had a high waistline, and was banded snugly with a green ribbon directly beneath her breasts, in the current style that immediately drew a man’s attention. The short sleeves were puffy, and the round neckline was not too low. The full skirt, gathered into a raised waistline, did not conceal her slim midsection and pleasingly rounded hips. Eric concluded that his cousin would look good in anything, including a man’s garments.

Maren wondered why her first cousin was looking at her so oddly yet remaining silent. She decided that he must be seeking the right words to comfort her, or perhaps he was trying to suppress the bitter memory of his own parents’ deaths. As she waited for Eric to speak, in an attempt to block out his terrible news, her own mind wandered.

Unbeknownst to Maren, war had been declared before she had sailed to Britain in June of 1812. When she had learned of the conflict, she had assumed it would soon end and her parents would arrive to get her. She hated the war which divided her family; she was an American, but her paternal lineage was English. She was aware of the British and American grievances, and she knew each side was wrong in certain ways, even if both felt they were right.

America wanted impressment halted. Americans wanted to trade wherever and with whomever they pleased. Some even wanted to control Canada and Florida just to prevent enemies or foreign powers from “breathing too closely and hotly on our necks,” but most Americans simply wanted peace and prosperity.

Britain wanted to have her way on the high seas. She wanted to control trade, to impress British subjects when her ships needed sailors. And she also wanted to punish America for daring to challenge her, and for aiding Napoleon. To the British it was crucial to protect Canada from American encroachment, to bring America back into the Empire.

Twenty-two months before, Maren had sailed to Britain to marry Daniel Redford, the son of an English lord whose vast estate bordered her grandparents’ land. But her betrothed, having gone to seawhen war was declared, had actually left his homeland before her arrival. Within a month after his departure, his ship had been attacked and sunk by an American privateer. Maren had met Daniel during her first trip to visit her grandparents. After that she had spent two months in England every other summer, and she and Daniel had become good friends. She had been very fond of him, but she had not loved him; and it seemed he had been fond of her.

During those early teenage visits, Daniel had taught her to shoot, to fight, to hunt, and to use a rapier. They had enjoyed rides, picnics, swims, and long talks. Between the visits, they had exchanged letters. A few times he had told her about devilish pranks he’d played with other lads or about his amorous conquests of local girls, though she had doubted these tales were true. Daniel had loved to make up wild stories, to see how many people he could fool with them. He had possessed a wonderful imagination and a gift for charming others, and he had been handsome and polished, a marvelous catch for any female. Yet, as far as Maren knew, there had been no romantic magic between them. Oh, they had shared a few kisses and hugs, but there had been no fiery passion.

Their last time together had been during the summer of 1810 because Daniel had left before she had returned to Britain nearly two years ago. Perhaps it was best they had not wed, for gossip implied that Daniel had changed greatly since she had last seen him four years past. She had heard whispered comments about his wild behavior—his gambling, drinking, fighting, and whoring—and she had wondered what or who had changed him during her absence. One day during an afternoon stroll, a bold female had approached her and had informed her that when Daniel returned from sea she would continue to be his mistress, even after Maren married him! The woman had then told her dreadful things about her betrothed, and Maren had believed her. After Daniel’s death was announced, eager suitors had come around to take his place. Always they told her how lucky she was to have eluded the trap Daniel had set for her. They’d said he craved her wealth. Yes, others had been quick to point out Daniel’s flaws, but no one would or could tell her what had happened to change him.

No matter now. Her betrothed was long dead and the truth was lost forever. She and Daniel had agreed to marry because their grandparents had wished it, as had Daniel’s parents, and because at the age of eighteen, no other had captured either of their hearts. Or so Daniel had claimed in his last letter. It had seemed a good match, socially, emotionally, and economically. Two years ago, she and Daniel had been willing to “do their duty,” but it had not been fated that they wed. He had been a good friend and a delightful companion, and despite the nasty rumors about him, Maren had grieved for him for several months. Finally, revelations of the unacceptable changes in Daniel had helped her to get over her loss.

Now, in May of 1814, she was twenty, still single, and without parents and a home. It was as if Fate had turned its back on her. How, Maren wondered, had everything gone awry in only two short years? What would she do when they reached New Orleans?

Maren’s golden brown eyes appeared liquid and shiny as she focused them on her cousin. She shook her head of dark brown hair and declared, “It cannot be true, Eric. This must be a mistake or a bad dream. Dead for nearly a year…the plantation and business gone… Explain to me how such horrible things happened.”

Eric pulled her away from the mullioned porthole in the captain’s quarters of the Martha J and guided her to a chair. This merchant ship could sail from Britain to America in four weeks, if the winds held and they confronted no perils. She had eighteen gunports, but they had been used rarely. Fake logbooks, papers, and flags had seen her safely from port to port. The Martha J had been named for their paternal grandmother, whose side they had left that morning. “Are you sure you want to hear it again?” he asked.

“To accept it, I must,” Maren answered. She listened as Eric James told of the hurricane that had attacked the lower Louisiana parishes and had caused severe flooding around and in New Orleans. Maren understood this peril of nature. From June to November of every year, that area’s inhabitants feared those powerful storms, and many left it to avoid them. But violent weather was not the worst danger; disease bred of displaced waste and refuse was. Bodies of decaying animals could not be cleared away quickly enough. Their carcasses added to the stench and created a health hazard once the hot sun and the intense humidity returned. Mosquitoes and flies rapidly spread infection, and for weeks afterward both water and soil were contaminated. Following most hurricanes, more people and animals died from illnesses than from injuries caused by the storm.

Eric quickly repeated the disturbing tale. “Your father was in town on business, and your mother had accompanied him to go shopping. We had lunch that day, and were to see a play together that night. Except when we were at sea, our lives were little changed by the war. The hurricane struck before anyone realized it was approaching. It was a terrible one, Maren, filth and stench everywhere. I’ve never seen the insects so bad—big enough and mean enough to eat you alive. Your parents were trapped in New Orleans, but as soon as the roads were passable, Uncle Cameron rushed Aunt Carlotta out of the city. I tried to persuade him to remain where it was safe, but he wanted to get home, he said, to clean water and fresh air. Perhaps it was already too late because the day after they reached the plantation, they lost consciousness. As soon as I could get away, I went to check on them. They were both burning with fever. I summoned a doctor, but nothing could be done. I doubt either knew the other was sick. I had them buried and then placed their belongings in one of my storerooms.”

He poured two sherries and handed her one to sip. Draining his glass with one large swallow, he placed it on the table before stuffing his sweaty hands into his pockets. “It took months for workmen to get the town cleaned up and repaired. Your father’s losses were heavy. I had to sell the plantation to pay off Uncle Cameron’s debts and commitments. With foreign ports blockaded and several ships destroyed or captured, his office had taken a beating. For a time, I feared if I didn’t cut it loose, its debts would sink the Baltimore and London offices. But I was determined to save it.”

Eric shifted to his other foot and wet his lips before continuing, “I came to New Orleans right after you departed to get things prepared in London. Uncle Cameron had asked me to run this office of the company while he went to your wedding in September; they were planning a long visit to make certain everything went smoothly for you. I’m sorry about Daniel’s death, but I know you’ll have countless suitors when you get home.”

As if he had said something terrible, Eric quickly returned to his previous topic. “After the hurricane, there were workers to be paid, buildings to be repaired, and cargoes to be replaced. I sold everything I could get my hands on, Maren, but it wasn’t enough. At that time, I didn’t know about Redford’s death, so I didn’t realize you would need the house, the jewels, and money. If I had known about your bad luck, I would have bankrupted this office and saved whatever I could for you.”

He smiled wryly. “Truthfully, I expected to find you happily married and rich enough to make me a loan. I’ve sunk nearly all I have into the New Orleans office to keep it alive until this war ends. I’ve worked hard to find men who’ll slip a few cargoes through the British blockade; that’s how I’ve managed to stay afloat.”

She reasoned, “If you’ve made it through the blockade several times before, why haven’t you fetched me sooner? And why couldn’t Papa have gotten at least one message to me? I’ve been frantic.”

“It was too risky, Maren. My schedules were tight, and my voyages were vital to America. We had to stay clear of Britain to avoid capture. I knew you were safe there. My crews and cargoes had to come first. Your parents wrote to you, but the letters didn’t get through.”

Maren knew her parents had loved her and had tried to contact her, but the war and distance had prevented them from succeeding, just as distance and slow means of communication between New Orleans and Washington had kept news of the outbreak of the war from reaching her before she had sailed so long ago.

Eric was saying, “You can study the books when we reach New Orleans, but you’ll see that only my personal investment remains in James Shipping. I would turn it over to you, Maren, but it’s all I have. Besides, a man needs work more than a woman. How else can he marry and support a family?”

“But why did you sell the plantation? It was my home. And why didn’t its sale bring in enough money to settle father’s debts?” Maren inquired.

“The blockade, little cousin. Goods are of little value if you can’t export them. By the time your father learned about the war, he had already speculated on several owners’ crops. He would have made a fortune if the Royal Navy hadn’t prevented him from shipping them to foreign ports. Whole cargoes rotted on the wharf because we couldn’t ship them anywhere. We tried to sell as much as we could locally, but everyone was in the same predicament. Running a plantation requires lots of money, and your parents ran out of it for they had little or no income for nearly a year. Things were so bad during that first winter that your father sold whatever he could part with to feed his workers and servants. You can talk with the people in town; they’ll tell you how bad it was for him. Maybe death was a blessing, Maren. He was a proud man, and it would have destroyed him to lose everything.”

“Even if things were that terrible, Eric, Papa was not a quitter. He would have found some way to survive, to begin anew. A man isn’t to blame for a failure he cannot prevent.”

“Maren, Maren,” he chided softly. “You don’t know what it’s been like during your absence. Think about it, a blockade of our entire Atlantic coast. War, little cousin. Lives lost in bloody battles. You’ve been spared the demands of the conflict. I saw Uncle Cam every day. I watched this war take its toll on him. He was helpless. Do you know what that does to a man?”

As she sipped the second sherry Eric had poured for her, her cheeks began to glow and she felt warm and tingly. It seemed that they were discussing strangers and another land. “If things are so bad, why didn’t you ask Grandfather for a loan?” she asked.

“The same James pride and stubbornness that our fathers had. I want to survive this mess by my own wits and skills. I want to prove myself to Grandfather and Murray and to our customers and competitors. This is the first big matter I’ve been allowed to handle; I can’t fail. If I told him why I needed the money, I would have to tell him everything. I don’t want him and Grandmother to learn about your father’s death until it’s necessary. If this mission is successful, I should get a reward, and our country will be saved. Captain Hull received a gold medal and fifty thousand dollars from Congress when the Constitution defeated the Guerrière, and Captain Jones was rewarded with a sword and twenty-five thousand dollars in prize money even though he lost his ship to the British. Surely this vital mission is worth a small reward and a medal. Murray will envy me.”

“How is Murray?” Maren had suddenly become curious about her other cousin.

“He’s probably fine by now. He wants to keep his accident a secret because he broke his leg at a married woman’s house. I think it would be best if you don’t mention it to him, or to anybody, if you don’t mind.”

“I thought he was planning to be married soon.”

Eric laughed devilishly. “He is; that’s another reason why he wants his recklessness kept quiet.”

Maren was annoyed by his brother’s conduct because it revived memories of Daniel’s alleged deceits. Could no man, besides her father, be trusted? she wondered. How lucky she had been to have Cameron James as an example, and how fortunate to have such a special mother as Carlotta. Her parents had been strong, intelligent, caring people. And even if they had been ruined financially, they would have found other ways to survive and succeed. “If Murray loves her and plans to marry her, why would he do such a despicable thing?”

“Men take foolish risks when they’re about to be imprisoned for life. They become scared and do crazy things. But if I decided to take a wife, I wouldn’t cheat on her. I wouldn’t want to risk losing her. She would own my heart and soul.” He pretended to be embarrassed by his rash confession, thinking that would endear him to her, but recalling Daniel’s shortcomings, he quickly changed the subject. “This has been a hard morning for you. Why don’t you rest for a while? I’ll let you know when it’s time to eat.”

“Yes, I do need to relax and think,” Maren agreed.

After Eric left the cabin, she went over his words several times, and the brunt of them struck her. Alone. It was true; her parents were lost to her forever. She covered her face with quivering hands and wept. Later she would make plans; now she simply needed to release her tension and grief.

Eric stood at the ship’s railing with his righthand man. Horben Wolfe’s flaming hair whipped about his ruddy face as his pale eyes gazed across the water, eyes which were almost colorless except for a slight tinge of ice blue. The big man’s burly frame was propped against the sturdy rail, and his arms were folded over his chest. Horben was at Eric’s side most of the time. He was his protector and cohort. No matter what Eric said or did to others, Horben trusted and obeyed him implicitly.

The redheaded man inquired, “Did she believe you?”

Eric laughed and responded, “Why wouldn’t she? We’ve been close friends for years. Maren’s smart, but she’s too trusting and gullible. Besides, there’s little chance she can learn the truth, and if she does, what can she do about it? If she becomes a problem, I know the perfect way to deal with her.”

“Are you still planning to get rid of your two brothers?”

“The sooner the better,” Eric replied coldly. “I’m tired of Murray’s bossiness and interference, and Marc’s a weak simpleton. I’ve done all the work and planning, I’ve kept the firm afloat; so I deserve to have all of James Shipping, not a third of it.”

“What about your grandfather? He still owns part of the business, and we both know he would hang you if he discovered your secrets.”

Eric replied bitterly, “I left a letter telling my beloved grandparents about poor Cameron’s death. It should finish them off, or at least keep them out of my hair until it’s too late to interfere. I hope that news punishes them for placing Murray in full control of Father’s firm. The old beak nose never had any use for me, and the same was true of my dear departed father. In Colin James’s eyes, my father had only one son and heir: Murray. God, how I hate them all.”

“You still mad at your grandmother because she broke her promise to you?”

“Damn right, Ben! She lied about helping me with Grandfather. If she had kept her word, I would be half-owner with Murray right now, and her youngest son would still be alive…well, maybe Uncle Cameron wouldn’t be dead yet. I’ve proven I can handle the New Orleans firm better than anyone. I’d like to see them try to take it away from me,” he said, his green gaze cold and angry.

“I can’t allow anything or anyone to stand in my way, Ben, not even the American government. But we’ll have to be careful and clever. Too many James deaths in a short span will catch someone’s attention. Right now, Murray’s my main concern. He’s getting too inquisitive. After he’s gone, Marc won’t give me any sass or trouble. Even if Mother hadn’t made him into a weakling and a fool, he’s too grateful and scared to defy me. Before this year ends, the war should be over and I’ll own everything, if there’s anything left.”

“With what you’ve got going, it doesn’t really matter which country wins this stupid war. You’re smart to cover all sides and to keep your identity a secret on this voyage. There shouldn’t be any trouble for us with you posing as James Slade and claiming Maren is your wife.”

Eric affectionately slapped Horben on the back and replied, “The smartest thing I ever did was to hire you, Ben.” They talked a while longer, then went below to eat.

Twenty-six-year-old Peter Thomas stepped from behind a large capstan and several barrels, and was relieved that the deck was not cluttered with men. The sandy-haired seaman wished he had been close enough to eavesdrop, but it had been impossible to get nearer to the two men without being sighted and questioned. Fortunately he had been in Charleston when Captain Canton had hired the crew for this unusual, and suspicious, voyage to Britain. He rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. As soon as possible, he must report to the President to suggest having someone spy on James Slade and Horben Wolfe… and perhaps on that beautiful wife James Slade had retrieved from London….

Two weeks passed uneventfully aboard the ship. From recent reports, most of the fighting was being done along the Atlantic coast and around the Great Lakes. To avoid the coastal blockade, Eric’s ship had sailed southwest from Britain. They were to pass near the West Indies before entering the Gulf of Mexico and proceeding to New Orleans, after putting in at one of the Caribbean islands.

Maren spent most of her time in Captain Thomas Canton’s quarters “to prevent trouble with any beauty-smitten sailor.” Only the Captain and first mate knew who she and Eric were, for the crew had been signed on in Charleston and Savannah to insure secrecy for this vital mission.

Once each morning and evening, she was allowed a stroll on deck in the company of the captain or her cousin. Her meals were taken in her borrowed quarters, but she was joined at dinner by Eric, Horben, and Captain Canton. Often they would play games, usually card games or “toss the ring,” but sometimes they would talk or read aloud. Confined most of the time, Maren enjoyed these evening meals and visits, except for Horben Wolfe’s presence. There was something about the man she did not like or trust. Perhaps it was his piercing stare which made her uneasy.

During one stroll, she and Eric had discussed her problems. It was odd, but her losses seemed unreal to her. She often found herself getting excited and thinking she would soon see her parents and her home. She went over her first conversation with him in detail, but even after she reminded herself that her parents no longer existed, she could not believe it or accept it. She knew she would not until she viewed the evidence. Each day she occupied her hands and thoughts with other things, refusing to torment herself with such an incredible loss.

Nine more days passed slowly, the air warming as they sailed southward. As they approached the tropical islands, laziness began to lap at everyone much like the gentle waves lapped against the ship’s hull. During the day, the sky was clear and the sun reflected almost painfully off the seemingly endless stretch of trouble-free water. Sometimes dolphins traveled alongside them, and Maren watched the playful sea creatures from the cabin window. At other times, she studied the men as they tended to their tasks, often forgetting her presence and talking more boldly than they should about certain subjects. She covered her mouth many times to keep from laughing aloud as they discussed women and life. Such eavesdropping was informative and amusing, so she did it frequently.

At night, she heard the canvases popping in the wind, and she listened to the singing of the sailors as they sipped their daily ration of grog and entertained themselves below deck. Often she peered out at the star-filled heavens which inspired a feeling of loneliness and hunger in her, a desperate yearning to be held in protective arms. Sometimes she felt stranded in time, breathlessly waiting for some magical clock to begin ticking once more and to free her from limbo.

On some days and nights, grief plagued her; but most of the time, her losses remained unreal. Since Eric slept in the same cabin on a cot, she hoped her tossings did not disturb his slumber. At least she had avoided trouble with the sailors, thanks to her alleged marriage to “James Slade,” the man who was “considering purchasing this ship and hiring her crew” if she successfully ran the blockade. Yet, Maren found one handsome sailor’s gaze on her many times during her strolls. He was a hazel-eyed man named Peter Thomas.

Maren wondered where the British gold was hidden and whether Eric could get it safely to America. It had been a matter of weeks since she had learned of her parents’ deaths, and she needed something to occupy her mind, to stimulate her imagination, to fill her dreams. It was exhilarating to know about Eric’s patriotic mission and to plan ways to help America win this war before more precious blood was spilt. She was not wholly surprised by Eric’s feat, for he had always done things to get attention. She recalled the many letters from Eric’s mother, Elizabeth, telling her own mother about Eric’s most recent antics. Yet Maren had always found her first cousin to be charming and exciting company, much as Daniel had been.

Many times Maren had felt sorry for Eric as he did not seem able to please his father and older brother. She had been amazed at how different Cameron and John James were. Although she was a girl, her father had spent hours teaching her things, giving her attention and love, whereas her Uncle John had acted as if he’d had only one son: Murray. No wonder Eric had done wild things to get his parents’ attention and to punish those who hurt him.

One morning, Eric entered the cabin with a broad smile. “I have a present for you,” he told her, then withdrew a gold and ruby necklace from his pocket. “I forgot I had it until I uncovered it in my chest this morning while dressing. I want you to have it. Perhaps it will make up for some of the things you’ve lost.” He fastened it around her neck, and guided her to the mirror to view it.

She was wearing a white batiste dress decorated with tiny red dots and sporting a red band at the high waistline. On the hem and the puff sleeves was red embroidery in a small floral pattern. The day was humid, so she had secured her long hair in a chignon, and the shorter hairs around her face had curled to frame it becomingly. Her gown and her hairstyle accented the expensive necklace she wore.

“It’s lovely, Eric, but I couldn’t possibly accept it,” she remarked as she fingered the exquisite workmanship and pondered its value.

“You must, or I’ll be sorely offended,” he teased. “It looks perfect around your lovely throat. Within two weeks, we should reach New Orleans, Maren. Think of how the other women will envy you. I’m responsible for you now. Please, let me do this for you,” he urged.

“But it’s so expensive,” she protested.

“It was an investment. If I sell it, I’ll take a terrible loss. I would much rather you have it. Think of it as a thank-you gift to Uncle Cam for all he did for me. During the time I was with him, he treated me more like a son and a man than my father ever did.” Eric looked sad for a time, then brightened. “I’ll tell you what, wear it for a month or two, then decide whether you want to keep it or not. If you don’t want to, you can return it and I won’t argue.” He caressed her cheek.

It seemed important to her cousin that she accept the gift, so Maren agreed. “If you insist, but I’ll guard it carefully until I decide.”

Eric grinned and hugged her. “I know you will, little cousin.”

When she was alone, she eyed the treasure in the mirror. Something strange is afoot, she decided. If Eric had needed money, this necklace would have sold for a hefty price. Perhaps it was part of the “cargo” he had picked up in London for the President. Eric might be stealing it to make certain he was well rewarded for his dangerous task. She knew her cousin never did anything without a reason, unless her father had changed him. Until she considered the matter further… Loud yells and the sounds of running on deck seized her attention.

Eric rushed into the cabin. “We’re being overtaken by a swift frigate,” he hastily explained. “No flag yet, so it could be American or British. Stay in this cabin until I come for you.”

Horben entered and went directly to the secret panel which she had seen opened before.

“Be ready to pull out whichever logbook and papers we need, Ben,” Eric commanded. “Captain Canton is prepared to hois. . .