Kidnapped by the Pirate

Bart added, “To be fair to your father, that was not his doing. The rest, however…”

Susanna sighed. “Father wasted untold amounts of money insisting on planting crops that wouldn’t take. The colonists have left in droves, and the rumor from Whitehall is that the Crown is abandoning this place and cutting its losses. Father has failed in every conceivable way. He hasn’t admitted it yet, but we’re going back to England. Or perhaps somewhere else in the New World. There’s simply no alternative.”

“He and Mr. Davenport are on shaky ground,” Bart said, unbuttoning his wet jacket. “Davenport gave up a successful venture in Jamaica, expecting more power here than he had in Kingston. If not for your engagement to Elizabeth, I fear their partnership would dissolve completely. Walter would have had you married when you were barely conscious if Susanna hadn’t spoken out so strongly against it.”

Nathaniel’s heart skipped. “You don’t think I should marry her, Susie?”

She blinked. “Oh, of course you should. She’s an absolute treasure. Isn’t she, Bart?”

“Yes. Very levelheaded, and a kind soul. She’d make a fine wife for any man.”

Any but me.

Susanna added, “She deserves a proper wedding in a church, wearing her fine dress. And surely you’ll want to be awake and in your right mind on your wedding day.”

“I… Yes,” he had to agree.

“There’s no telling now when this pirate will arrive for his trial,” Bart said. “Your father had already ordered the gallows constructed, which was a complete waste of time. Not to mention lumber.” He shook his head. “These winds are like nothing I’ve ever seen. I fear there will be very little left when the dust settles, as it were. They should have just tried him in Kingston, but your father insisted he preside, as if it will somehow legitimize this place and save it. His pride will be the death of us all if we’re not careful.”

Susanna sighed. “Yes. He was determined that his colony would be the most like England, no matter how impractical that might be. All show and no substance.”

“One wonders why he ever wanted to leave England in the first place.” Bart grimaced. “Of course, as a fifth son of an earl myself, I understand wanting to strike out in the New World. There should be more opportunities here.” He glanced at Susanna and lowered his voice further. “In fact, Mr. Davenport and I have had some discussions. He still has many connections in Jamaica and a respected name in shipping. There could be opportunities for us there. You, me, Nathaniel, and Elizabeth.”

Susanna stared at him. “But… But what of Father? We couldn’t just…”

“Why not?” Nathaniel asked. “Why should our fates be controlled by his whims? Haven’t they already been long enough?”

“Yes,” Bart hissed. “Quite long enough.” He took Susanna’s hand again, holding it between his own. “My dear, your loyalty is one of your best qualities. But the time has come when we must remove ourselves from your father’s shadow. With haste.”

“He’s right, Susie. You know he is.”

Tears glistened in her eyes. “Yes.” She swallowed hard. “I must check on Grace. Please excuse me.”

When she was gone, Bart rubbed his face. “You agree, then? That we shall leave Primrose Isle as soon as this storm and trial are over.” He looked up as another shriek of wind battered the windows. “Whatever unfolds, I feel strongly that we must try our fortunes away from your father’s influence.”

Nathaniel said a quick prayer for Hawk and nodded. “I couldn’t agree more.”

He’d slept fitfully for a time, and Susanna had returned in the night, the storm still raging, dark circles under her eyes. They didn’t speak of their father or Bart’s nascent plan. Susanna had always been practical, and while she sometimes needed to brood on an idea for a time, she would accept good sense.

They had simply shared a tired smile, and she’d briefly clasped his hand before again opening Don Quixote. Sometime later, the candle guttering, she read:

“I was born free, and that I might live in freedom I chose the solitude of the fields; in the trees of the mountains I find society, the clear waters of the brooks are my mirrors, and to the trees and waters I make known my thoughts and charms. I am a fire afar off, a sword laid aside.”

He couldn’t catch his breath. Was this what Hawk wanted, despite his protestations? A sword laid aside. If Nathaniel could somehow free him, would Hawk leave piracy behind and build a life with him?

Despite the storm’s fury, reminding him that there was no easy path, Nathaniel yearned for fields and trees, clear waters and freedom. And Hawk had confessed it once as well.

“I could find a quiet island. Build a home strong enough to withstand the summer storms. Fish and farm. Stay close to safe harbor.”