Heads turned on the Lady Julia as the Yankee Heart forged up alongside the brig. Brogan signaled Jabez from the quarterdeck to issue the command to ready the longboat. Warrick had shined his boots and assisted him into his cutaway coat. As Brogan shrugged it onto his shoulders, the young steward presented him his leather baldric and sword.
“I don’t recall asking for my sword.”
“He insisted, sir.” With a jerk of his head, Warrick indicated Drew watching earnestly at his side.
The boy stepped forward. “How shall you defend Lorena with no weapon? Shall I come and bring my sling? I’m quite an excellent shot. I protect what is mine.”
Brogan held his grin in check. “I’m well aware of how excellent a shot you are, but we’ve discussed this and my orders are that you remain out of sight with Warrick. I believe I’m capable of handling this myself, thank you.”
The boy pushed the encased sword in Warrick’s hands toward him. “If I were captain, I would do it myself, but you, sir . . . you must do it.”
“Here now, mind your tongue, lad, when addressing your captain,” Brogan said, but found he could not disappoint his son’s sense of adventure and so slung the baldric across his shoulder, allowing the sword to rest at his hip.
Drew’s little shoulders relaxed. He handed Brogan his speaking trumpet, which Brogan took up to shout, “Brig ahoy! What brig is that?”
“The Lady Julia, seven days out of Plymouth,” her captain returned.
“Lady Julia,” Brogan announced to his crew, whereupon their voices rose together in three shouts of “hurrah.”
He cast his gaze over the Lady Julia’s deck, searching through the crowd. “The ship Yankee Heart, four days from Duxboro,” he hailed back through the trumpet. “I request an audience. I am sending a boat.”
His crew rowed him to the brig, where Brogan scaled the Lady Julia’s side ladder. He swung himself over the rails, planting his Hessians firmly on deck. Doffing his hat to a sea of curious faces, he gave them no more than a quick glance, as a stout fellow of middle years with dark red muttonchops stepped forward.
“Captain Josiah Winsor.” He extended a hand, which Brogan eagerly accepted.
“Captain Brogan Talvis of the ship Yankee Heart.” As he bowed he heard William arrive behind him. “Allow me to introduce my second mate, William Farragut.”
The two officers nodded to each other, upon which Brogan continued, “I have a grave matter to present before you, Captain Winsor. I have information that you may have a young passenger on your brig made to board against her will. I am come to make certain of her safety and to ferry her home to her much concerned father.”
Captain Winsor responded with a mixture of disbelief and confusion. “I can assure you, Captain. There’s been no sign of foul play aboard this vessel. If a lady had been abducted, don’t you think I’d be aware of such? This has been a peaceful voyage.”
“And peaceful it shall remain once I remove the young woman in question. I am prepared to make compensation for her mistaken passage and the delay of your voyage, but you can depend upon this, Captain—we are not leaving until she’s found.”
“Brogan! Brogan, I am here.”
With a tug of his heartstrings, Brogan harkened toward the voice and found Lorena separating herself from those gathered about. Her eyes burned into his, velvety brown and gentle, aglow with hope and all the purity of her soul.
Dressed in homespun with her hair tucked inside a white cotton bonnet, her humbled, weary appearance stirred his compassion. Yet her cheeks glowed as she smiled back at him, leaving Brogan awash with relief that she was found safe.
He was hastening to meet her as she came running to take the hand he offered when a voice rose from the assembly behind her.
“Captain Winsor, be warned, I beseech you.” George Louder shoved his way to the front of the crowd to grab Lorena gruffly by the shoulder before Brogan could reach her. She gasped in midstep as the shipwright pointed a finger accusingly. “That man is a privateer. He’s guilty of engaging in acts of piracy on these very waters. You mustn’t permit him to remove a woman passenger from this good brig.”
Brogan stepped forward and gave Louder a shove that forced him to release Lorena and sent him staggering backward into the crowd of alarmed onlookers. “It is a pity I am not the authority here, as you, Louder, are a passenger under Captain Winsor’s command. But you speak ill of the lady being in danger of me. It is you who are the guilty party. You who needs be exposed before these witnesses as the coward you are. For you forced Miss Huntley aboard this brig against her will, and under no circumstance will I let you mistreat her further.”
The weasel straightened and shot him a glare of pure disgust.