Preview:
Later that evening Charity had just snuffed out her bedside lantern and climbed into bed when she heard a noise at the window. At first she thought it was just the creak of the plank outside, where a small warp had formed in the wood after a storm and was prone to sound against the waves. Then something tapped rapidly on the glass.
Charity rose and crept on bare feet toward the window, opened the curtain and saw Jonathan's face and form on the other side. He was looking furtively from side to side as if he did not want to be seen. She opened the narrow casement quickly and said, “Master Cantwell, what brings you to my window at this time of night?”
He reached out and clamped his hand over her mouth. “Shhh, someone might hear.” When she nodded her understanding he took the hand away, doffed his cap with respect and whispered, “Miss Rakham, I felt I should warn you straight away. I heard those two scalawags talking in the gun deck just now, and a frightful plan it is. They mean to incite a mutiny against Captain Rakham.”
“Lacey and Durham?” she asked. Cantwell nodded. “Why have you not told the captain? Why come to me?”
“Because they swore to slit the throat of any man who would snitch on them, and I can't be seen goin' to the captain with the news or they would become suspicious. I thought if I told you first they would not know who heard them, and they would never know it was you who did the tellin'.”
“That makes frightful sense,” she replied. “But if I rouse my father now they might become suspicious as well. Let me wait some little time, and I will tell him when the crew is finally down to sleep.”
“With luck and a bit of stealth we can foil their plan,” he said.
“Thank you for placing your confidence in me,” she replied.
He appeared to fidget with hesitation, then leaned in and planted a quick kiss on her small mouth. “This is a small deposit against the day when I can court you in the open. Have you broached the subject with your father? What said he?”
“I have indeed, but he is slow to give me yea or nay,” Charity replied. “He has not responded with anger so I presume that he is... deliberating. But I fear it will be some time before he will answer.”
“On that day I will hang all my hopes.” Then a noise off to his left caught his attention, and he startled. “I can't stay. Good night, Miss Rakham.” He left the shelter of the mast's shadow and disappeared into the darkness.
Charity's fingertips touched the spot where his lips rested, and a slight flush warmed her cheeks. He was such a nice young man before taking her father's tutelage, and wondered what had befallen his fortune that he should be sold to pay off the debt. She determined to find out the truth of it.
An hour later, she left her room and crept quietly toward the captain's bedchamber, gathered her robe closely about her and rapped gently on the door. At first there was no response. She rapped again. “Papa, are you awake?” she asked softly.
The door opened suddenly, and the man who peered out at her did not look like her father, though he had her father's eyes. He was still fully dressed, his breath was thick with rum, and his face was red. He had cast off the ribbon holding his hair, letting it go wild and loose. He had a stern, suspicious expression on his face which softened when he looked down at her. “Oh, it's you, Charity,” he said. “What brings you here at such an ungodly hour? You should be in bed and asleep by now.”
“Papa, what ails you?” she asked, shocked at his inebriation.
“I cannot sustain this mask any longer,” he muttered absently. “Go back to bed, daughter.”
He moved to close the door again, but Charity was determined to help so she pushed it open against his flagging strength and caught him before he stumbled. A bottle slipped from his fingers and fell to the carpet covering the deck. Charity ignored it, pushed him toward the bed and made him lie down. “What have you done that is so sinful you should find solace from it in drink?” she asked him.
“I am a wicked, wicked man, Charity, and my sins are great and many,” he said. “I do not want you to see me like this. Back to bed with you, I say.”
“No, papa. I'm here to help you so I must stay,” she insisted. “But I bear urgent news from Master Cantwell that cannot wait.”
“News? What news can be so urgent that it cannot wait for morning?”
Charity explained what Jonathan had told her. By the end of her story, Rakham was awake and sitting up, all the effects of the rum banished by its importance. “Mutiny, you say? I have been waiting for those two reprobates to do something like that. Now I have a way to be rid of them once and for all!”
He made to rise but his legs buckled and he fell back down on the rough woolen blankets. “But, I'll have to find my sealegs first,” he quipped.
“Why do these men plot against you, papa?” Charity asked him. “Tell me the truth.”
Joshua Rakham looked up at his young daughter and said, “I think you are old enough now to understand that a man's life is sometimes measured in the balance between the good he does and the evil he does.”
“Yes, papa,” Charity said.
He pushed himself back up and sat on the edge of his bed, while Charity sat down beside him. “Six years ago I got caught up with pirate doings,” he explained. “I made my fortune, as did we all, on the taking of merchant ships when France and England tried to blockade Jamaica and drove the Spaniards from Hispaniola. We left murder and pillage in our wake. At that time we made a pact that whatever booty we won would be divided into equal measures, to make it fair among us. I kept my part of the bargain but a man named Edward Teach saw fit to welsh on the deal, and he worked on killing each one of us so he could keep everything for himself. I wanted no part of him and fled to England, where I purchased the Mary Catherine with every last farthing of my ill gotten gains, and have tried to live my life as a respectable merchant since. Lacey and Durham are Teach's mangy dogs and must have come to keep an eye on me on his behalf. I paid them a goodly sum to stay and be part of the crew, tried to buy them off as long as I could. They have bided their time this long, but now I don't know what signal they had from Teach but they are going to try to take the ship and hand me over.”
“You, a pirate?” Charity blurted. “But you have been good in all things. You have taught me decency and the wages of sin. How can this be the truth of you?”
“It is, nonetheless, Charity,” Rakham replied. “I would gladly take it all back but it is too late for retribution. It's fruit for the hangman's tree I am, and no amount of repentence can change it. I knew this day would come but I had hoped it would be when you were a little older and able to stand on your own. I have no hope of forgiveness for what I done, and I expect none. If my men were to find out they would hang me from a yardarm for sure.”
Charity looked at her father with new eyes, but her heart still loved him. “I forgive you, papa,” she said. “Is not forgiveness from others the first step toward receiving redemption?”
“I fear it may be far too late for that. Your mother, God rest her soul, showed compassion for me also but my sins killed her as sure as if I had murdered her with my own two hands,” he replied sadly. “I do not want the same fate to befall you. You are my only child. If I die tomorrow you must survive to pass on our family name.”
Charity said, “If Lacey and Durham even think of hurting you I'll see them punished even if I have to chase them to the ends of the earth.”
Rakham looked into her eyes with bleary shock. “Tush, Charity, I'll not hear of such thoughts of revenge. That way leads to perdition itself, and you are too young to think like that. Let me keep the burden from you and handle those men myself, for one more sin now will not weigh more heavily on my conscience.”
Properly chastened, Charity slowly stood down from her anger. “As you say, father. I will do as you bid.”
He placed his hand on her head and patted it with a heavy hand. “There's my girl. I must tell you that Monsieur Reneau and I may have shared harsh words but that was for the benefit of the crew's ears. In truth I trust you in his hands more than any man aboard this ship, even your young suitor Cantwell. He was a king's musketeer and he has behaved honorably in all things, even if he is a God-cursed Catholic. If I should die tomorrow --”
Charity's eyes welled over with tears as she cut him off. “Papa, please do not say that.”
“Charity, my dear, listen to me,” he insisted. “If I die you must go to him for protection. He has already agreed to take up your care. If you can, go back to France with him as his niece and live your life as far from the sea as you can. It may be the only way that I can keep you safe from the sinful ways of a pirate's life. And there is one more thing that is more important than anything else I have told you.”
“What is it, papa?” she asked soberly.
“If anyone finds out you were a daughter of a pirate, your life is forfeit no matter that you have committed no crime yourself,” he said. “There is little forgiveness to be had at the asizes. No court will exonerate you for the sins of your father, no matter what the book of the Lord has told you. We are charting waters that change with the tide of politics and public sentiment, and our souls will find no peace there.”
“I understand, papa,” Charity replied. “But I love the life of the sea, and I will find no comfort in wearing stays and corsets and heavy skirts that drag about behind me like a sail. I would be a fish out of water, neither finding breath nor freedom in such a life.”
“Then do as you will, but do not pursue the path of revenge. Only do this for me and I will die content.” He pushed her away and added, “Now go back to bed and let me plan my campaign for the morrow. I'll not touch another drop now. I promise.”
His look of honesty was disarming, and she relented. “Very well, father. Good night.”
“Good night,” he replied. ♦
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