Marriage and Family

The fine weather held, and Mrs. Stirling was able to set out her fabric, measure and cut it, and begin to stitch it. "How I wish I had some fine buttons," she sighed to Stephen one afternoon as they sat companionably together in the sun. "I shall have to take some off one of my other gowns."

"Will you not be able to find some in Kingston?" he suggested.

"Of course, but it is a long way, and I shall need something before then if I wish to wear my gown."

"Are you familiar with the port?"

"Yes, quite well-acquainted. Richard's business took us there often. It was where we were married."

"In a church, then?" he asked curiously.

"Yes, legally and everything!"

"It was not what I meant. I only thought that one such as yourself would have been married on shipboard, but with the bridegroom being the captain, I suppose it cannot be done." He sighed, smiling a little at his gaffe. "May I be so bold as the ask why you never remarried? Certainly you were widowed excessively young."

She laughed at the question. "What man would have me?"

"A great many, I suspect."

She glanced at him, startled, for he was never one for flirtation and flattery, and then a hot flush rose in her face. Only for a second was she at a loss for words, though. "Yes, a still-young widow with a little bit of property… well, there were offers, but I have my standards. I wouldn't take a fool or a landsman."

"Are they not one and the same?" he remarked with absolute seriousness.

"Stephen! Shame! You put words in my mouth that I didn't say! No, for there are seamen who are fools – you don't need me to tell you that!"

At this remark, they heard the amused chuckle of Mr. Mowett who was making an entry in the ship's log nearby. "Amen to that, ma'am!" he called.

"And I certainly wouldn't be left ashore!" she continued in a humorous voice, more for Mowett's ears than for Stephen's. "No, I'd miss nary a cruise nor port, for I'm a useful hand to have aboard. Like any true mariner, my life and my love is the sea."

"The truth is," she told Stephen once the second lieutenant was well away, "that, knowing me and my past – pirate, pagan, and refugee from the gallows – a good man would not want me, and I wouldn't go to wed a man with that secret between us." She shook her head. "It caused enough trouble for Richard. That is for sure."

"A rift in his family?" he asked, his mind working on the connection between Captain Stirling, his sister, and her husband, Colonel Pitt.

At once, she grew reluctant. "Of course. It was to be expected. Taking a 'criminal' like myself as his wife."

Resentment, anger, and bitterness laced her voice. The reaction caused him to wonder exactly what the rift had been and if it had caused her intense dislike of Colonel Pitt. The vitriolic way she had first spoken of him was rooted in something more personal than the man's alleged treason. Had there been some affair between Rose Stirling and Colonel Pitt? Or perhaps something darker or more violent? The idea piqued him: had there been something between them? To hate the man so viciously, there must have been. If so, were the so-called damning documents real or her vengeful fabrication?

To accuse a man, even one who was not particularly honest, of a capital offense such as treason was a very serious matter indeed. No doubt the charges had truth in them. The lady's motivation remained suspect, though. What proof had they of the attempted murder? None, for they had heard it only from her. Jack had said that Admiral Bellows's letter had not been specific. Could this clever woman have some kind of influence over him as well?

After much consideration, Stephen decided to keep these new thoughts to himself. The old pirate in Savannah had genuinely worried for Rose's life, and the five thousand pound bounty could not have been her fabrication. Even though, the who puzzle seemed to have pieces missing, and until they were provided, he would not be able to put them together to see the whole picture.