Summons from Abroad

By Suzie Grant

*Note: Previously published in the Christmas Anthology Summons from the Castle. It's published now as a single with some minor changes and the Christmas aspect has been mostly removed and can be read during anytime of the year.*

Blackmailed by a British Naval Commander, Captain Randall Whitton, a smuggler with a penchant for gold is rescued by Jewel Derington, a feisty plantation owner and the very woman who betrayed him into the jungles of Barbados. Escaping danger has never been so thrilling. Together they are drawn into a political game of winner takes all from which only his grandfather, the Duke of Danby, can rescue them.

Fascinated by the glitter of his Caribbean Jewel, Randall's lust for gold soon fades. His quest to tame this fiery treasure catapults them both into an adventure where the stakes are higher and the prize greater than either of them have ever dared dream.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Suzie Grant
• Release date: Jul 24, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393346081

Suzie Grant

My  life has been one big adventure.  My childhood was full of reading the classics like Treasure Isle, Robinson Crusoe, and The Swiss Family Robinson tales. In fact my mother has another word for my “stories” but to this day, I continue to dream up adventures of my own. ​As a pregnant teen my adventure became a life-defining moment as I struggled to survive and raise a child. During those rocky years writing became an emotional outlet. After a very long divorce I again found myself climbing that rocky path of life and have learned to live by a single quote: “Obstacles are placed in our path to determine whether we really wanted something, or just thought we did.” By Dr. Harold Smith. ​Taking life by the proverbial horns, I now live happily ever after with my new beau, and three boys in NC. One day I plan to retire and sail along the east coast, an adventurer to the end.

Book preview

~1~

Barbados

Fall 1812

Smuggling had its disadvantages, especially inside a tavern full of British soldiers. The crackle of the fire filled the silence. Captain Randall Whitton eased back in his seat as the proprietress filled his tankard. He nodded his thanks and returned his gaze to the man seated across from him.

Unease snaked its way up Rand’s spine. This prearranged meeting hadn’t gone quite as planned. First, had he known he would be meeting in a tavern filled with British officers, he would have never come. And secondly, had he known it was a British commander who’d requested his presence, he would have run like hell in the opposite direction.

Commander Blythe studied him through dark blue eyes narrowed in the dim light. Would you care for anything to eat, Captain? It’s on me.

Glass clinked in the establishment and a soft drone of voices carried through the public house. They were the only two people in the upper balcony of the tavern, but it didn’t alleviate Rand’s anxiety in the least. He shook his head. No, thank you. Why don’t we set aside all pretenses, Commander? I find I’m rather curious about your reasons behind the invitation.

The slightest smile brushed the commander’s features. Indeed. Silence descended once again as the man sliced through his mutton chops. I hope you’re comfortable. I would hate to think I’ve not made you feel welcome.

Rand glanced over his shoulder at the only visible exit in the main hall. Comfortable? Indeed, like a mouse being pawed by a cat.

The clatter of dishes brought Rand to his feet and a hand on his Rigby flintlock pistol. When all eyes turned in his direction, Rand cleared his throat and reseated himself with a muffled apology. I must confess to being on a schedule and I’m anxious to get on with my errands.

The commander smiled. Understandable. This was a rather spontaneous meeting. I do hope you’ll forgive me. After all, we’ll both profit from this encounter, or at least that’s my wish.

Excellent, what can I help you with?

The uniformed soldiers resumed their previous endeavors one-by-one, and the normal drone of voices continued. Rand leaned back in his seat and sweat trickled down his temple.

Reputation colored him a criminal and being in a roomful of His Majesty’s finest made Rand extremely nervous. He wiped his moist palms across his black knee-breeches but kept one hand close to his weapons.

I’ve brought you here, Whitton, because I hear you’re the best.

How often had he heard that phrase? Pride bloomed in his chest as he realized the truth of those words. He’d taken a useless skill and perfected it until there was no equal. The Admiralty must know of his reputation. He was a legend in Barbados. He’d made sure of that.

Money made the world go ‘round, and he had plenty of it. But it would never be enough. Not for Randall Whitton. He refused to die a lonely, old man living in squalid conditions like his father before him. Never again would he be indebted to anyone.

Blythe placed the silver utensils down and peered closely at him. You’re the man to do business with, or so I hear. You get the job done, no matter the cost.

All of this is true, Commander, but forgive me for being blunt. What has this to do with you? And let’s dispense with the polite conversation, because we both know what I am and what I do. So why don’t you go ahead and tell me what you want? Otherwise, I have a previous engagement that requires my attention.

The commander chuckled. You’re a man who doesn’t mince words, Whitton. I like that. And as to what I need, I need a man of your skills for a special mission. I have a delivery—a rather important delivery—and I need a man who’ll make sure it gets there.

Rand nodded. Sounds good. What is it and where is it headed?

Commander Blythe winced. That’s the problem. No one can learn of its contents, nor can they learn who funded this little venture. Understand?

Disquiet settled over Rand. Something seemed out of place, and an alarm inside his head warned him of what was yet to come. I’m listening.

I have a business partner in Charleston who will be looking for this shipment by February of next year. I’m offering fifteen hundred pounds. Half now and half once the shipment arrives.

Rand stilled. A small fortune. For a single run? His heartbeat suspended and then barreled ahead like a race horse. That was more money than he’d made in the last three runs put together. He didn’t move. To show any sign of distress could mean certain death, but warning bells clanged inside his head. Whatever his next words were, he must consider them carefully. Any mistakes now could be disastrous.

Pretending interest, he leaned forward. Are you sure you wish to discuss this now?

The commander smiled. These are all my men. You have nothing to fear here.

What kind of shipment, Commander? Don’t give me any lines about secrecy. Nothing gets loaded on my ship without my knowledge. I refuse to risk my life for a run where I don’t know all the details. If that’s the kind of captain you’re looking for, then I suggest you find another.

The commander wiped his mouth with the sullied cloth napkin, a stark contrast to the conjoined line of white eyebrows across his forehead. Indeed.

Rand laid down the battle lines. Those are my stipulations, Commander. Take them or leave them.

Commander Blythe chuckled and placed the napkin in his lap. All right, Captain. We do this your way. For now. When my business partner gets the shipment, I’ll be paid—more than you can ever imagine in your lifetime.

I can imagine a lot.

It will be more money than I’ve ever received from the British government. Do you comprehend now?

I want to hear you say it.

"Weapons. We’re at war with the Americans, and I plan to