The Privateer

How vibrant she looked with a plain dress tossed unmindfully over her fairness and hair all askew.

Bertrand, fresh in a white embroidered smock and dark trousers tied at the knees, moved around the table as if to better observe her. "You have all of your limbs after all."

"Did I appear to be missing some?"

"There for a moment yesterday I was not quite sure."

Kate laughed quietly. "There for a moment yesterday I was not quite sure myself." He stood uncomfortably trying not to appear so, with hands clasped behind his back. "Your father is well?"

She turned up her head so that he could see her lovely eyes. "He has seen better days. I believe his heart nearly did him in." A little laugh and he felt her uneasiness.

"Or perhaps it was you," Bertrand replied, "that nearly did him in."

He did not reproach her further but made a serious face. "You are quite impulsive for such a thoughtful creature."

"Creature? Why is it men believe that word to be both synonymous and complimentary to femininity?" She shifted her hat back precariously.

"Do I really need to explain such a thing to you?"

"Unless you find us frightening, mysterious, or unsightly, then yes."

He almost smiled, but chuckled under his breath instead. "You are the heroine of the hour."

Kate disbelieved it. "To whom? Every midshipman and cabin boy in the harbor?"

"Well," he teased, "perhaps it has not reached the Governor."

Kate narrowed her gaze at his attempted spar. "I believe I have been the heroine of the hour with the Governor since our lovely ball." At this Bertrand said, "Hah," and it came out as close to a laugh as he had ever let Kate hear.

"I suppose I owe you an apology as well," she muttered, "although Im not sure why. I do know poor Mrs. Fox has merit. Is there anyone else I have forgotten?"
She gave him a defiant stare which he met straight on, unblinking.

"You owe me nothing," he said quietly. "You owe regrets to no one."

His sincerity caused her to blush and she looked down at her scribble. This pleased him. She whispered, "I certainly am indebted to your intervention."

"You werent afraid?" he asked.

"It happened so quickly." She made an incredulous face. "But, yes, there came a moment that I was very afraid." A flush still on her cheeks, she seemed aware he studied her. "Im glad you came when you did."

"As am I," he replied instantly. "And Im happy you took on the monster rather than sacrifice the victim."

She drew back with a faint, confused smile. Bertrand cleared his throat and to his surprise felt a pinch in his chest. "May I pose a question to you?"

"Yes."

"Why did you come to San Madrid?"

The question caught her completely off guard. Kate paused. "Because my father asked me to." He remained silent. "Because," she relented, "because I wanted to travel abroad again, to take leave from Boston for a time."

Still he said nothing but shifted his feet for more. Kate sighed then laughed aloud. "I came for many reasons, but not for the same reasons as the Spencers," she said meaningfully.

He grinned at this. "There are some who would be disappointed to know that."

"You mean Captain Adair, I presume?"

He nodded. "And his wardroom."

Kate laughed nervously and tucked a wild lock behind her ear. "If you imply Lieutenant McCracken, I would hope you would take anything he professes as lightly as you would take him into battle."

"I was referring, in fact, to all of his officers," Bertrand answered mischievously, and Kate laughed again. Having wheedled what he wanted from her, he changed tack.

"You have reservations as to McCrackens ability?" He crossed his arms across his chest as if they were engaged in a casual interview.

"I consider him a coward in most affairs, to be frank, Captain. I cannot imagine he would hold to a higher standard at sea."

"You would be surprised."

Kate conceded. "Perhaps he will surprise us all." She realized too late he had nothing to drink. "Did you want some refreshment? Some juice or ginger beer?"

He raised a brow at her then shook his head. "No. Thank you." He moved to say good-bye and she stood.

"Im sorry. I should have asked Elizabeth to bring something out."

Bertrand waved her off. "No mind. I should go."

"Ill walk you," and she did, around the house past the garden to the sandy lane. She thanked him again and he took her hand and gave it a squeeze.

"I wish you luck with Adair," he said with loyalty and a softness he wanted her to feel.

"Oh," she smiled, "I dont quite know about that." The vulnerability in her voice filled him with an inexplicable affection. He managed a smile in return but not before pulling out his rolled tar cap and tugging it over his head.

"Good-bye!" Kate called after him.

Bertrand turned and gave a bow. He then hurried his way back to the harbor, astonished at the lead-line swinging aimlessly in his heart.