Loves' Conqueror. Renee Hand

she spent on board, and yet for all of his efforts, she still loved to sail.

      The pair left their townhouse and stepped into a carriage waiting for them on the street. After Miranda sat down she straightened the folds of her skirts. She then gazed out the window into the calming afternoon light.

      “I long to be on Father’s ship, Davy. I desire to feel carefree and alive again. When will he be coming to port?”

      “To be honest, I’m not sure. I haven’t received a letter from your father in several weeks, which is quite unusual.” Miranda’s brown eyes met Davy’s blue ones.

      “Should I be concerned?” Stratton Mayne wrote to his daughter at least once a week, if not more, telling her of his adventures. Often, he would come to port in the harbor and stay for weeks to spend time with her, bringing her various gifts like fabrics and linens, a parrot from the Caribbean, which she couldn’t accept because of the cold weather. He brought her many things from his travels and yet all she wanted from him was his love and affection, but most importantly she wanted his time. If she was just able to spend quality time with him, no gifts, no broken promises, then she would be the happiest girl in the world.

      The last trip that her father made was two months ago when he brought her jewelry and silk fabric from the Orient, which her seamstress made into several fine dresses for her, as well as some breeches and shirts for Davy. The idea of not hearing from her father in several weeks concerned her, and a frown marred her unblemished brow.

      “There is no reason for us to be concerned yet, Miry, but if we do not hear from him soon we will go searching for him.” Davy was also concerned for his good friend. Not receiving a letter from him meant he was caught, hurt, or worse—hung. Davy gave up his pirating ways to devote his time to Miranda like he had promised long ago, but Stratton refused to give up his freedom as a pirate. It was not the wealth he wanted or needed, but the adventure and freedom. He found life boring and spiritless, needing the sea to keep him feeling alive and young.

      “You’re right, Davy, and I respect your judgment on the matter. If we do not hear from Father soon, we will go looking for him. Now, let’s talk of a different matter. Who am I eating supper with again? Is it Lord Covington or Lord Brussels? They all look the same to me with their long dark wigs and pale faces. Few men wear their hair short nowadays. What do you say to that?” Miranda adjusted her bodice, her gaze not leaving the man who was sitting across from her smiling.

      “Lord Covington is getting married. You remember the invitation he sent. It was the one you threw into the fire.” Miranda did not reply, her features unchanging. “And Lord Brussels stopped his pursuit after Lord Hammil stepped in. It is he who we will be eating supper with tonight. Over the past few months you have selected to forget Lord Hammil, and you know that is how long you have been seeing each other—a few months. He has asked me for your hand in marriage. Do you not remember this or do you simply choose to forget? And by the way, wigs are in style and do serve some importance. Some men choose to wear them because of their station. However, there are many men who do not.”

      “You don’t!” Miranda blurted sharply.

      “No, for I care little about style and what other men think important. Besides, wearing a wig itches my head and is unbearable to me. I can’t stand wearing them. I have always liked the shorter and cleaner look with my hair; that, and I do not wish to spend very much time on it. ” Davy rested his hands upon his stomach as he gazed at Miranda contently.

      “Sometimes I think of our meeting as a bad dream. A dream I want to forget.” Davy raised an eyebrow, not liking her answer. Miranda exhaled a frustrated breath. “Yes, sometimes I choose to forget the man. Don’t get me wrong, he is handsome and pleasing but I just don’t enjoy the time we have been spending together like I used to. He is quite eccentric in his ways and mannerisms, and I just can’t see us as being husband and wife. I guess that I can’t see myself being happy with a man who makes me feel ashamed for being me. Whenever we are together, I feel like someone else. I feel like I have to be a different person to please him. I am slowly becoming a person I hate. Maybe that is the price of growing up, I don’t know, but what I do know is that I am not happy.” Miranda paused, taking a deep breath before continuing.

      “But then I think about the good side of our relationship. Lord Hammil is quite devoted with his affection for me, so at least I know that he will love me. He is also well respected and rich, let’s not forget that, so he will also be able to take care of me, to provide for all my needs. I would have a good life with him—a safe life. Father will be pleased with that and he will probably adore Lord Hammil and agree to the match. When I think about Father’s happiness, I feel that I can sacrifice my own to please him. People do that for the ones they love, right? Sacrifice some things in their lives to please another?” Davy nodded his head and yet his heart filled with sadness.

      “You are too young to have to make such sacrifices, Miry. If you are that unhappy with the man, I can make Lord Hammil quickly go away.” Miranda’s eyes grew wide as she shook her head.

      “No, Davy! Let’s wait ‘till we hear from Father. If he is pleased with the match, I must obey his will. Has he said anything about Lord Hammil’s proposal in his letters?”

      “He has said nothing, but you already know that. There is not one day that goes by that you have not read those letters at least twice. I have seen you when you think I’m not looking.” Miranda turned her face toward the carriage window and gazed out into the street.

      “I miss him, Davy. I want to be by his side at sea, not here. This is not the life I was meant to live. Why won’t he accept it and let me be with him?” Miranda turned her face back toward Davy, awaiting his answer.

      “You know why, Miry. It was your mother’s last request. She didn’t want you to become a pirate like her, or your father.”

      “But why? They lived a life of excitement. A life filled with strange pleasures. They were happy, Davy,” replied Miranda. “I want that same happiness.”

      “They lived a life with the fear of getting caught, Miranda. Pirates, when caught, are hung or worse. It is not a pretty sight. Believe me when I say that I have seen much in my day—too much. Now is especially not safe when most of their sanctuaries are being governed. The life of a pirate may seem glamorous to you, for one so naïve, but it is a dangerous lifestyle with many risks. Your father risks his life each and every time he destroys or loots a ship. I pray daily that he is never caught, and it is wise for you to never speak of him to anyone besides me. He is infamous, and the fact that he has never been caught is appealing to many. The bounty on his head is handsome. Men would gladly turn you in to catch him. Remember what I say, young one, for though I would never betray you, there are men out there who gladly would.” Davy glanced one more time at Miranda before he turned to face the window.

      After some time passed, Davy spoke again and turned to face Miranda. “Do you remember when you were twelve and your father asked what you wanted for your birthday?” Miranda nodded her head and smiled briefly.

      “I told him that I wanted to sail with him for a year.”

      “Yes, and with much deliberation he agreed to the request,” said Davy.

      “He did, but afterward he brought us back here, and after staying only long enough to allow the men time to restock the ship, he left. I did not hear from him, or see him, for the next six months,” spoke Miranda.

      “But you know why he kept his distance, don’t you, Miry?” Miranda shook her head quickly, still angry for the way her father had acted. “As you know, sailors do not like women aboard their ships. Even a child is unacceptable in their eyes, for as far as they are concerned, all women are bad luck. But during the time that you were aboard the Flying Wasp, you changed the men’s opinion of you, and you could do no wrong. You cared for each man, respecting them as an equal instead of the filthy scum of the earth that everyone thought them to be. You were slowly turning into your mother. Even at such a young age your father could see it, and it scared him. He could not let that happen. You were wise to the ways of sailing, for your father and I taught you everything that there was to know, and yet