Port Royal Burns: Eleanor's Courtship, #1

By Michelle White

James Patrick had one mission in Port Royal and that was to find Redbeard and seek the aid of this feared pirate to sail the Caribbean Islands, freeing his Irish kinsman who were enslaved by the British during Oliver Cromwell's war for Ireland.

But also, he had to remember, there would be Mrs. Suzanne Leslie and her newly of-age daughter, Eleanor. His father had said that the mother's beauty was legendary and he couldn't imagine the daughter being any less so, her own English father having come from strong stock. After all, this was the reason he had given as to why he wanted to travel to Port Royal.

He had plans, and he would see them done. There were family wrongs that must be righted and even the beauty and wit of Eleanor Leslie could not possibly stand in his way, but did Eleanor have other plans?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Michelle White
• Release date: Dec 23, 2014
• ISBN: 9781507007297

Book preview

COPYRIGHT INFO

Copyright 2014 Michelle White

This book is a work of fiction.  The names. Characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously, and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental

© 2014

All Rights Reserved.  No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form or by any means, including scanning, photocopying, or otherwise without prior written permission of the copyright holder.

Digital Edition  Manufactured in the United States of America

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Table of Contents

COPYRIGHT INFO

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

About The Author

Chapter 1

Port Royal, Jamaica

1686

"Stay inside, Eleanor."

Yes, Aunt Margaret.

"I mean it this time. Poor Suzanne will have both our heads if you go wandering off again. It's improper behavior for a lady of your caliber!"

Sighing, Eleanor Leslie only increased the frequency of her nodding as her Aunt proceeded to preemptively scold her. The woman was an eternal worrier, and she'd always been intimidated by her older sister. It has her job, however, as Eleanor's junior aunt to be her chaperone in most outings.

It was a job that the young girl didn't often make terribly easy for her.

Smiling as polite and with a demure expected from a young women, Eleanor waved at her Aunt ceremoniously. The woman merely gave her a warning smile before exiting the coach. Today, Eleanor's mother had charged them with visiting the dress shop to commission two new garments for her daughter. As much as Eleanor usually loved to shop with her mother, she'd been disappointed to find that her aunt would be accompanying her instead. Margaret Lyle was about as boring as they came; and atop that, she wouldn't hesitate a moment before informing on any unladylike behavior on Eleanor's part.

Just because she had sneaked away one measly little time to get a chance to walk the docks... Healthy curiosity was hardly un-befitting of a young woman her age. For years, she'd been hearing about how her oft-absent father had made his fortune in shipping, and never once had she been allowed on the docks to investigate the allure of the profession. Was it really so unreasonable that she should want to know?

Pushing back the curtain from the window of the enclosed, velour space she sat in, Eleanor took in the vision of the bustling docks. At this hour, most of the ships were just casting off and she marveled at how the huge sails unfurled and then instantly billowed outward, filled with the strength of the wind. Men as lithe as monkeys scuttled up and down the rigging while others labored over various tasks on deck, eager to be out at sea.

Their carriage was parked at the corner of the cobblestone street that ran alongside the sea, and upon it, various merchants wandered here and there, peddling their goods. Among them were laughing urchins who dived dangerously beneath legs and just managed to slither through cracks between wagons. When they could, they begged spare pennies from the merchants, as well as anyone who would cast them a spare glance.

Eleanor felt sorry for the poor little ones, but a bad experience with a pint-sized pickpocket had forever turned her from offering from her own purse. In addition to merchants, buyers and beggars, there were also those of a more unsavory sort. It was the prostitutes, lewdly hawking their wares from open windows to the street below, and unlawful privateers, resplendent in their rich garb but suspicious in expression, whom Eleanor was sure her mother most feared her having an encounter with.

Of course, Port Royal had been built on the backs of such people, but it wasn't proper to admit such things now; not with a new king on the throne and a rather questionable atmosphere in the city. Eleanor knew that perhaps it wasn't quite proper for a young lady to be so interested in politics, but she couldn't help herself. Ever since they'd arrived from London years ago, Port Royal had fascinated her.

While her mother had been busy trying to ready her for a proper season, courting, and tutors, Eleanor had instead snuck away to hide in her father's study, pouring over his texts; among which was a history of the young Jamaican city.

As she gazed out on the bustling town, the thought occurred to her that she could slip away for a few moments unnoticed. The notion was more than a little dangerous; as Margaret had tattled on her for her last escape. It seemed, however that her aunt was quite occupied deciding on fabrics with the dressmaker. Through the windows of the shop, they could be seen with their heads together, pouring over bolts of fabric. Aunt Margaret hadn't looked up since she'd entered.

Slowly, sneakily, Eleanor leaned over and began to quietly open the carriage door. She'd no more than budged it a few inches however, when the driver, William's, face appeared in the small space. His smile was amused, but not unkind. Sorry, Miss Leslie. Sweeping his hat from his head, he lowered his laughing blue gaze respectfully. Miss Margaret says I'm to make sure you don't put a toe outside the carriage.

Scowling, Eleanor sat back in the seat, crossing her arms churlishly over an ample bosom.

How dare she! She was not some child to be admonished on a whim! Did Aunt Margaret really think that she'd be so callous with her own safety? She'd almost certainly have asked William to come along to deter any potential grabbers on.

Her expression must have spoken