The French Prize Read Free Page B

coloring: the deep chestnut hair, the striking beauty, the quick wit. Jack had watched the girl fade away, the young woman take her place. Now he snatched up her hand and gave it a kiss. “Enchanté, chérie,” he said.
    She withdrew her hand and gave him a light slap on the face. “You take liberties, sir,” she said, “and you know we have no use for Frenchmen in this house.”
    Virginia’s eyebrows went up, a warning like a round shot across the bows. Politics would not be entertained at a family gathering, not even when all parties generally agreed with one another, which, incredibly, they did. Or, more to the point, Jack did not care enough about politics to argue with his father, which could be said of few other things.
    â€œWasn’t there another child?” Jack said, and even before the words were out the shout of, “Jack!” came bounding down the stairs, eleven-year-old Nathaniel Biddlecomb right behind. He stopped a few feet in front of his brother and bowed with all the faux seriousness he could muster.
    â€œArise, Sir Nathaniel,” Jack said.
    Nathaniel straightened. He was happy, very happy, to see his older brother, and that in turn made Jack profoundly happy as well.
    â€œLord, you look a fright,” Nathaniel said, eyeing Jack up and down, less discreetly than their mother had done. “Whatever happened to you?”
    â€œCome, let us off to the dining room,” Virginia said, gesturing the way down the hall. “Maurice will be furious if the soup is allowed to cool.”
    â€œPirates,” Jack said.
    â€œPirates?” Nathaniel asked.
    â€œSwarms of them. Coming through the Mona Passage, three leagues east of Hispaniola. You should have seen them, boarding us starboard and larboard, cutlasses in their teeth.” Virginia gestured for them to move along, and they obeyed.
    â€œYou can’t hold a cutlass in your teeth, they’re too heavy,” Nathaniel pointed out.
    â€œNot if you are as big as these devilish pirates were.”
    â€œWell, you look as if you’ve been beaten with a handspike. Why didn’t the pirates toss you overboard? I take it you lost.”
    â€œLost?” said Jack with mock outrage. “Never in life. You should have seen what the pirates looked like when I was done with them.”
    They took their familiar places around the dining room table, Isaac at one end, Virginia at the other, Jack amidships with Elizabeth and Nathaniel on the other side. Maurice brought the soup, which was still blessedly hot.
    â€œGood to see you, sir,” he said, placing a bowl in front of Jack. “We’ll have two Captain Biddlecombs now.” Maurice was a black man with a fringe of white hair and sixty years or more of adventurous living, by Jack’s guess. He was a former ship’s cook whom Isaac had hired when he was still going to sea, a ship’s cook who, Isaac discovered to his surprise, could in fact cook and cook well, given the chance. When Isaac had come ashore, Maurice had come with him, and he had been with the family ever since.
    â€œThank you, Maurice.” Jack gestured toward the soup. “I have missed this, let me tell you.”
    â€œIt don’t got to be all salt horse and burgoo at sea, but you won’t find no one willing to cook who’s willing to learn.”
    â€œI know that, Maurice,” Jack said. “That’s why I plan to ship you as cook on my next voyage.”
    â€œHa!” Maurice said, distributing bowls to the younger Biddlecombs. “Ain’t gonna catch me on no ship. Them days is over.”
    â€œThen it’s the press gang for you.”
    â€œAs long as I got a skillet in one hand and a butcher knife in the other, ain’t no press gang gonna take me,” Maurice said, making his way back to the kitchen.
    â€œMaurice would do considerably better at avoiding the press gang than I ever did,” Isaac