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  His reflections on the oafish nature of his physical being halted abruptly as he realized he had not finished his reply to Carter’s question.

  “I left my servant down at your Landing with the boat. I’ve heard too many stories about pirates taking anything that comes within their grasp.”

  John Carter laughed. “Well, sir, you’ve no need to fear for pirates in these waters. No pirate would venture this far north up the bay.”

  “I thought it best to take no risks…” Josiah finished lamely. Carter was laughing at him again, ridiculing him as a newcomer unfamiliar with the practicalities of the geography. “I suppose you’re right. We are nearly two hundred miles from the mouth of the Chesapeake. The risk of being trapped by Her Majesty’s patrols would be too great.”

  He sighed with this admission but felt he had regained some ground by demonstrating a familiarity with their position with respect to the mouth of the bay. He looked at Carter, expecting him to proffer another nugget of conversation, but the older man suddenly seemed half-lost in a daze. His host came to himself quickly, though, when he saw Josiah pull unceremoniously at the silk cravat around his neck.

  “It is hot, indeed, sir.” He rang the sharp little bell again. “Confound these people. Their service grows more lax by the day. Always dreaming of their own plantations, I dare say. I’ve a year left in Grimble and his wife, and I’m coming to think I may get little of it.” Carter waited as the door opened and the eager servant hobbled over. “I’m considering moving some of my best slaves into the house and returning the servants into the fields. I would advise you to do the same. The indenture is worth nothing near the end of its term here in the house, where the work is easy. But if they could be set to clearing a field—ah, Grimble, there you are.”

  He looked up as if he had just noticed the servant’s appearance. “Cider, and quickly if it’s not too much trouble. Take the chilled crocks from the spring.”

  Looking suddenly very glum, the ungainly Grimble hurried out of the room.

  Josiah had tried to not to register shock at his host’s treatment of the servant but realized he must not have succeeded when he saw his future father-in-law don the look of pedantic authority he so often assumed when sharing his wisdom on the subject of Life In Maryland.

  “You must, sir, put these people in their place to get your money out of them.” Carter punched the air with two fingers to emphasize his point. “It is the only way. Your investment only lasts for the term of the indenture. You give them clothes, food and shelter for years, and then suddenly, when their term expires, without so much as a ‘by your leave,’ they’re demanding their freedom dues and threatening to sue if you don’t release the corn on the spot.”

  Josiah was well aware of the economic expediencies of an indentured labor force and had no intention of associating with servants as social equals. But to equate them with Negro slaves? He felt incapable of such an insult. His servants would be free one day and soon. They might address him in the street. He could not act as though they were no better than barbarians from Africa.

  He noticed his host grinning at him again and realized that one large strand of hair, dampened with sweat, had uncurled onto his forehead. He stared at it briefly with cross-eyed disgust before brushing it back with a quick snort.

  “I fear I shall never become used to this weather. It has been so confoundedly hot.”

  “Sir, it’s not the heat, it is the humidity in the air that troubles you. And you will become seasoned to it after a time. This is your first summer here, is it not?”

  “It is. Though I confess it seems I have lived here much longer.”

  “Your family, too, must feel the absence most keenly. You’ve heard from them in the recent post from England, no doubt. I trust they are all well?”

  Grimble entered and attempted to serve two mugs of cider with inconspicuous efficiency, but the noise he made in the process made him even more obtrusive than usual. Carter gave him a sour look as he departed, then smiled and continued his inquiries with deliberate casualness.

  “Your sister, Lady Davenport, is all settled into her new home?”

  So, Carter was giving full consideration to this new connection!

  “Yes.” Josiah tried to match his host’s casual tone. “Although she believes her husband may be named to a post in France, and she fears she must prepare to be uprooted at any moment.”

  “Yes, of course, with the treaty, relations will be reopened all over Europe.”

  “And trade opened as well. Which is good news for us all.” Josiah sipped his cool drink and, for the first time, felt himself relax just a little. Carter seemed to fully appreciate Josiah’s important new brother-in-law. Frankly, he was best appreciated from a distance such as this—Josiah enjoyed the connection now that it stretched over an entire ocean. Time spent in the company of his sister had always been odious enough; the addition of Sir James made it doubly so.

  With reluctance, he set down his mug and sat up stiffly. It now seemed time to address the purpose of his call.

  “And how is your family on this warm summer morning?” he asked, willing himself to smile pleasantly.

  The smile was not returned by his host. Carter sat back in his chair. “All well, quite well, with the exception of Caroline.” He paused, as if searching for something. “It seems she is…indisposed this morning. I’m afraid we shall have none of her company today.”

  “Oh, I am sorry to hear it,” Josiah responded, although he felt strangely relieved. He picked up his cider and took a great draught. A tremendous weight seemed to have been lifted from his shoulders.

  “Mrs. Carter and my other daughters would be most pleased to see you, I’m sure. Charles is out with the overseer discussing the next clearing. With the ground so dry, there’s little enough weeding for our people, and we’d best keep them busy.”

  Again, Carter was giving instruction on the topic of servants and slaves. However little Josiah knew about running a tobacco plantation, he certainly knew plenty about servants. But “Yes, of course” was all he could say with any degree of politeness.

  He gave a small sigh as Carter stood and gestured toward the more intimate family parlor.

  “Shall we join the ladies?”

  The giggling sisters. But, to Josiah’s surprise, the prospect did not set him on edge as it had earlier. He even looked forward to seeing the youngest, a girl of about nine who was always trying to act as if she were wise in the ways of the world, and succeeded in unwittingly embarrassing herself with entertaining frequency.

  No Charles, he thought, to explain his relief. Or was he instead relieved he would not have to meet with Miss Carter this morning? He pushed that disturbing thought out of his head as the door closed behind them.

  Chapter Two

  Edward Talbot stood at the rail of his sloop, staring out toward the horizon of distant trees lining the shores of the Chesapeake Bay.

  None of them knew. Or, if they did, no one objected. All of his men had returned to the Osprey after the stop in Elkridge Landing. So, if they had figured out they could be counted pirates for taking that last cargo after the treaty had been signed, none of them cared enough to desert. And once the new recruits from the tavern were trained he would have a full crew once more.

  But what was he going to do with them?

  Edward began to pace on a section of the deck, taking only a few steps before the confines of the small space forced him to turn about.

  Opportunities for privateers in peacetime were virtually nonexistent. Although the Osprey had to be one of the fastest vessels on the coast of the Americas, its room for cargo was limited. If he chose to take his sloop into some private trading ventures beyond the royal customs agents, he would have to choose his cargo carefully to make any money at all. And the very idea was distasteful. He couldn’t bear to turn his Osprey, his bird of prey, into a glorified merchant brig.

  Without even closing his eyes, he envisioned the gunports sliding open in
unison and the cannons pointing out like a row of black iron teeth, grinning at their helpless victim. No one ever expected the Osprey to carry the firepower of a large ship. She was designed to chase, attack and intimidate. If he couldn’t chase and attack enemy traders, he would have to chase and attack someone else.

  Privateers were sometimes authorized to capture pirates in the Caribbean and along the Atlantic coast. In this inconvenient time of peace, pirate-hunting suddenly seemed his only viable option.

  He would continue south to one of the islands of the West Indies, or perhaps one of the closer southern colonies, and petition the governor for a letter of marque to capture pirates.

  Edward stopped pacing and straightened, enjoying the stretch in his shoulders and the back of his neck. The sea air felt clean and fresh, so unlike the close, heavy atmosphere in the river at the head of the bay. He was always surprised to discover how keenly he enjoyed returning to sea. Gradually, though, he noticed out of the corner of his eye that two seamen were following his movements quite closely. How long had they watched him pace? He wheeled around, took two quick strides, and glared into their faces.

  “Have you no duties to attend to?” he roared, gleaning every possible advantage from his only slightly superior height.

  Probably not was the answer that immediately sprang into his mind. Discipline had grown weak during the drawn-out time of illness and refitting the ship. These two were gunners mates; and with no action at hand, they probably had not been given sufficient standing orders at sea. This would explain the unhappy condition of the deck.

  He narrowed his eyes. Smithson and Quigley. Both experienced seamen, they could have looked around and seen fifty tasks that needed attending. Without orders, though, they chose to play a waiting game. Not a good sign.

  Edward pointed to the deck. “I want it white as the queen’s bottom,” he ordered. “Every day. And if it’s not, the cat will be waiting.” He smiled, with the merest gesture toward the cat-o-nine tails hanging from its customary perch.

  One of the ship’s boys met him as he headed toward his cabin. “Mr. Hardey sends his respects, sir, and asks if you would be so good as to meet him in the hold to review the new men.”

  Accustomed as he was to the often unpleasant smells aboard ship, Edward couldn’t help but wrinkle his nose as he climbed down into the hold. His first mate, Hardey, had anticipated this reaction; already he had a seaman at work with a bucket of water in the far corner.

  “On your feet,” Hardey barked when he caught sight of his captain.

  No one moved. A couple looked up in bleary-eyed confusion, and the first officer answered their mute questions with a swift kick.

  “Stand at attention for Captain Talbot.”

  One man tried to stand up then lurched forward as the vessel rolled slightly. Another at the back started to inch upward, clinging desperately to the bulkhead. Hardey swore at them under his breath, threw an apologetic glance to Talbot and reached down to haul up the man nearest him.

  “You’ll be on your feet and at attention for your captain, so you will, or you’ll all be flogged!” Hardey loosed his grip on the man with such force the poor fellow flew backwards. The crumpled human missile smashed into his unfortunate companions just as two more were attempting to stand.

  Caroline woke with a sharp pain in her head and a boot in front of her face. Unaccustomed to viewing footwear at such close range, she stared at the scarred leather, trying to figure out what it was. The mysterious object moved away a few inches then started abruptly back toward her face as its occupant scrambled to rise. Caroline rolled quickly away and pushed up on one elbow. Ugh, the stench was unbearable. She had to get out.

  There was a dull pain in her stomach, and her head swam a little when she stood up. In just a short moment, though, her vision cleared, and she found she could walk. She stepped gingerly over a man in funny-looking homespun clothes. He looked vaguely familiar, but she would ask later. Now she needed air.

  “Excuse me.” She waited impatiently for a gentleman blocking the ladder to step aside so she could climb out.

  “Damn your impudence, boy!”

  Caroline heard the words from behind, and very loud, too, but she did not turn to see who was being addressed in such a rough manner. She could see the sunshine above and felt the first shimmers of cooler air sweep her face.

  Suddenly, her arm was jerked backwards and the rest of her body followed awkwardly, landing in a heap below the towering form of a rough and very angry-looking seaman. It was the one who had called her “boy” earlier. Surprise, for a moment, kept her quiet.

  “Stand in the presence of your captain!” the man roared, gesturing toward the gentleman at the ladder.

  She stood up, but with no intention of deference. “Keep your hands to yourself, sir, or I will have the law on you.” She had practiced this speech at home before sneaking out to the tavern, intending to use it as a last resort if she should find herself in trouble. At home, her voice had sounded mature and commanding.

  Hardey laughed. “Hear him squeak! The captain is the law here, little mouse, and you’d best pay proper respect or the cat will find you!”

  Having apparently put himself in a better humor with his own joke, the first mate turned to see who was next to be bullied into shape. But Caroline was not done with him yet.

  Or perhaps she was. She knew not what to say and found, when she looked around the room, that no one expected her to say anything. All the men, including the gentleman at the foot of the ladder, watched the rough seaman as he poked and prodded at a poor laborer, trying to get him to stand at attention properly. Some laughed, but not at her. Here she was, standing disheveled in this ridiculous boy’s costume, and no one paid any mind. Why? Did they really believe she was a boy and that it was normal for her to be here?

  It was amazing. They thought she was a boy destined for ship’s work. She, an accomplished lady of one of the first families of Maryland. She, who was soon to be married and mistress of her own plantation. They thought she would make a good sailor!

  As Caroline gradually recovered from her incredulity, she almost wanted to laugh at the cleverness of her deception. Her plan had worked! They thought she was a boy! But her sense of accomplishment quickly turned sour. How insulting. They thought she was a boy. She looked around vaguely for something in which she might view her reflection. She must look just awful. It was probably better they thought her a boy, because she would make a rather wretched lady in this guise.

  Indignation faded into fear. What would they do if they found out she was a woman?

  Caroline shivered, despite the heat. Her prepared speech, and the ability to call out a name well known in the county, would not do much to protect her here. She was on a ship, and it was moving. Ships, even small ones, could not travel upriver from Elkridge Landing. So, they were sailing away from her home. How far had they already come?

  At once Caroline felt very small and very alone. Her eyes stung as she blinked back sudden tears.

  “Welcome aboard the Osprey, men.”

  Caroline turned her head slightly to see the gentleman who had blocked her way earlier take several quick strides from the ladder to the center of the dank room.

  “I am Captain Edward Talbot and this is my first officer, Jonathan Hardey.” The captain gestured in sweeping motions with fine, almost delicate hands. He finished with a disarming smile. “Your colonial governments need my services, and I need your service. Together, we will stem the plague that has ravaged the commerce of these waters, putting the health and wealth of every dweller of the colonies in jeopardy. The Osprey is a hunting vessel, and we will teach you all to be hunters.”

  The pause for effect succeeded in inciting curiosity in Hardey, at least, as to where they were headed. He had wondered about Talbot’s intentions. The man was no merchant, and if he had intended to put the Osprey in trade, surely they would have taken a cargo of lumber at Elkridge Landing. Was his captain planning to “serve” th
e government by smuggling?

  “We will be hunting pirates,” Edward continued in answer to his first mate’s unspoken question. “Hardey, assign these men to their posts. And give orders to begin drilling in a quarter of an hour.”

  Chapter Three

  Josiah noticed a dull thumping sound as they approached the door to the family parlor, and the source of the noise became apparent as he followed John Carter into the room. One of the sisters, Edwina perhaps, was kicking her heel dully against the scratched front leg of the bench on which she sat, absently twisting a loose strand of dark hair around her finger. A neglected sampler threatened to tumble from her lap to the floor with every kick.

  “It is a pleasure to see you again, Mr. Throckmorton,” announced Mrs. Carter with elaborate formality. “Girls!”

  This was directed at her daughters with a motion indicating they were to stand in the presence of their guest. Edwina was the last one to her feet.

  “How d’ye do, Mr. Throckmorton?” A different girl, this one tall with red-and-gold curls, held out her hand and giggled. Josiah tried to remember her name? Johanna? Georgetta?

  A smaller girl with straight red hair advanced slowly toward him with a show of formality that managed to exceed that of her mother. “Good day, Mr. Throckmorton. It is a pleasure of unequaled…magnifitude to have you visit us this day.”

  Josiah forced himself to keep a straight face as he took her hand. This was Johanna, Caroline’s youngest sister. “The pleasure is all mine,” he said with as much grace as he could muster. He found he had to assume a wooden expression to keep from laughing in the poor girl’s face.

  He next turned to Edwina. She approached but kept her gaze directed at something over his left shoulder.

  “Good day, sir,” she mumbled as she pulled her hand away from his.

  Edwina apparently wasn’t in a giggling mood today, so this would go easier, Josiah thought. With Caroline indisposed and Edwina sulking, the other two would have to twitter on their own.