Free Man Trouble by Melanie Craft Page B

book?”
    Jennifer nodded enthusiastically. “In my senior seminar at Vassar. The class was called Heroines of Herstory. You know, herstory, instead of history? It was a feminist class. The professor was Linda Titlebaum, do you know her?”
    “Yes,” Molly said. She and Linda had gone to graduate school together. She took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and felt the mantle of doom lifting, miraculously, from her shoulders. A silly smile crept over her face. “You read my book,” she said, and the smile became a grin. “
My
book. You read
Maritime Wives.
In school. That's wonderful.”
    “Actually,” Jennifer said, “I had a great idea. I was thinking that since you know so much about Caribbean history, maybe you could give an evening lecture for the other guests.”
    “A lecture? Would people actually come? They're on vacation…”
    “Oh, totally!” Jennifer exclaimed. “Vacations aren't just about getting a tan anymore. Our guests love having a chance to expand their minds. Usually, we fly people in from the University of Miami. We don't get a lot of professors coming here as guests.”
    Molly was not surprised to hear that. She still had not recovered from the shock of learning how much it cost to rent their cottage for a week. Elaine had not been exaggerating when she'd spoken of the high cost of a Gold Bay vacation.
    “I don't have my notes with me,” she said. “I'm not sure that I can just…”
    “I know it's a lot to ask,” Jennifer said apologetically. “And I'm sure that my boss would be glad to offer you ten percent off of your room charge as a thank-you gesture.”
    “Deal,” Molly said immediately. “When do you want me to do it?”
    “How about tonight? Tuesday is normally our lecture night. We were scheduled to have a discussion of yoga theory, by Rama Guru. He's a very famous swami to the stars, and he's a guest this week, too. But he had to cancel, because he accidentally ate a salad with bacon bits, and now his chakras are unbalanced.”
    “I…could probably put together something for tonight,” Molly said. “Could you give me a little more of an idea of what you want? Are there any general guidelines that I should follow?”
    “Pirates,” Jennifer said immediately.
    “Pirates?” Molly repeated.
    “Totally! People love pirates. It would be really exciting to have a lecture about some of the horrible things that the pirates did. The ones in this area, I mean. I'd like to keep it local. Also, maybe you could talk a little about Bonny Mary Morgan? She lived on this island, but you probably know that.”
    “No,” Molly said, “I didn't. Are you sure?” It was the most interesting thing she'd heard in days. Mary Morgan was the most notorious of a very small group of eighteenth-century women who could technically be called pirates, meaning that they had either crewed on or—in Mary's case—captained pirate ships. The few known female pirates had all dressed as men, and their shipmates had generally believed them to be teenage boys. Mary had been special, though. She had become a feared and revered pirate queen, commanding her own ship while dressed in a feathered hat and fine silk petticoats, an affectation that had inspired her nickname. Molly remembered reading that Mary had also owned a sugar plantation on an island near Antigua.
    Jennifer nodded. “I heard about Mary from the woman I replaced. She was a total history buff, and she knew everything about this place. It used to be called Cane Island, back when the government of Antigua owned it. The ruins of Mary's plantation are still over on the west side of the island, near the mangrove swamp.”
    “I can't believe it,” Molly said. “Could I go and see the site?” She had been fascinated by the story of Bonny Mary since she had first read about the seafaring hellion, and the lurid stories of Mary's life had influenced parts of
Pirate Gold.
    Jennifer looked dubious. “There's not much to see,” she said. “And