“‘ . . . I nodded, all serious, not believing him for a minute. He was as evil as that Jolly Roger flag they flew on the Revenge. I’m not a stupid girl. I’d always known he had a treasure trove and now I had the proof of it. It was here on Ocracoke. He’d been gone from the castle only forty-five minutes. I was lucky that I happened to notice that. His boots were covered with mud. I want that treasure. I deserve it. My pa sold me to the bastard. Aye, I deserve the treasure.
“‘ . . . I turned thirteen years old that night. But then, not a month later, that ruthless devil got himself shot and stabbed more times than any normal man and that English lieutenant cut off his head, tied it to the bowsprit, and sailed off with it. He left me pregnant with your pa. Your pa was a rotter even when he was a little mite. I swore I’d never tell him about the necklaces. He left me, coming back only years later to bring you to me, Samuel. I sold those necklaces a bit at a time and lived well and your pa asked me again and again how I managed to have such a nice house and servants. I told him I was a whore. He believed that easily enough, the rotter. Samuel, there is a treasure. You’re not stupid. I want to be rich before I die. Find that treasure, Samuel.’”
Maggie said, “Samuel writes that she’s daft even though he’s seen some incredible stones. He believes in the necklaces, but he doesn’t think they’re from Blackbeard’s treasure trove. He says his grandmother is old and has brain rot. But he wants the rest of those stones. When she dies he’ll find them. He can’t leave her until she dies because, he says, he owes her because she took him in and treated him well and they had two servants and he had a tutor.”
“Because of the stones from those necklaces,” the Duchess said quietly.
“What a charming lot,” James said.
“Samuel is Old Tom’s father,” Jessie said. “Old Tom was charming too, James.” She shuddered, the memory of that day sharp and clear in that single moment in her mind. James pulled her close and kissed her ear.
Anthony looked up, his dark blue eyes sparkling. He looked ready to jump to the ceiling. “We know there’s a treasure now. We know it.”
“Blackbeard’s wife,” Jessie said slowly. “ Twelve-year-old Valentine. He gave her two necklaces from his treasure. It’s hidden forty-five minutes from his castle, probably less if he had to take time to dig it up.”
“Where’s this bloody castle?” Sampson asked even as he helped Badger pour out the tea for everyone. There were even lemon cakes.
“It’s been gone a long time,” Jessie said. “When I was a little girl we used to explore the ruins, just piles of rocks even then. Many say there never was a castle. Who knows? If there was, the Ocracokers have used everything over the decades. But I know where it’s said to have been. But what does that matter? Forty-five minutes? Which direction?”
James said, after he’d chewed and swallowed a delicious lemon cake, closed his eyes, and cleared his throat, “It was raining that night. His boots were muddy. We’ll try out every direction from the center of where the castle used to be.”
“Yes,” Marcus said. “Forty-five minutes would in most cases have you swimming in the water. This is possible, it’s just possible that we can discover something.”
“I think we should continue reading,” Maggie said, eyeing the last lemon cake but mournfully shaking her head. “If we don’t find anything else, then we’ll try this castle trek.”
“The villagers will think we’re daft,” James said, and grinned at his wife. “Can’t you just see us all fanning out from the middle of this pile of stones?”
The old house was quiet. No more creaking boards because everyone was in bed, asleep, it was hoped—at least James hoped so because he didn’t doubt for a minute that any sound he or Jessie made would carry to every corner of every room. She was lying on her back, her lawn nightgown covering every inch of her except her toes. Peach satin ribbons were tied just beneath her chin. He couldn’t wait to pull those ribbons loose.
She was saying quietly, “Marcus is right. Most directions that would take someone forty-five minutes to walk would be in the ocean or in Pamlico Sound.”
He came up onto his elbow over her. “It’s a moonlit night.”
“What? Oh yes, James. I can even see the deviltry in your eyes.”
“That’s not deviltry, that’s lust.”
She raised her fingers to caress his cheek. “I don’t know why I haven’t told you that I love you but I will now. I love you, James. I’ve loved you forever, at least since I was fourteen years old.”
He felt panic, utter panic. Love? Certainly he liked her, he enjoyed her body. She made him laugh. He cared mightily about her. But love?
Her smile didn’t budge, but he saw the sadness in her eyes in the soft shadows cast by the moonlight streaming in through the windows. “It doesn’t matter,” she said, but he knew that it did. “I have more love than I’ll ever need. You will love our child, won’t you, James? Despite the fact that it’s my child, too?”
“Don’t be a fool, Jessie. I care for you. A lot. You’re my wife. It’s just that—”
“I know. You won’t forget that both of us love horses, will you? I don’t know if I love children or not, but am I not bound to love our child?”
“There’s no question about it. You’ll be a wonderful mother.”
“And you, James?”
“I’ll be the best of fathers, I promise you. Now, Jessie, I’m almost positive that everyone in this bloody house is asleep. If you promise not to yell, I’ll make love to you.” He lightly touched her breasts. “Are you sore?”
“Yes, but you’re always so gentle.” She closed her eyes as his fingers slowly traced over her breasts beneath the lawn nightgown. She said, all drowsy and interested, “I don’t think Marcus or the Duchess is asleep. You should have seen the looks he was giving her in the parlor.”
“Marcus is out of luck. Don’t you remember? Anthony is sleeping in their bedchamber.” His palm splayed out over her belly. He felt the bulge. His child was inside her.
“No. Anthony is with Badger and Spears. I heard Marcus make a deal with Spears. Charles is with Maggie and Sampson.”