The Treasure Ship: Kinkaid and the Alliance (Jonathan Kinkaid Series Book 5)

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Other editions. Enlarge cover. Error rating book. Refresh and try again. Open Preview See a Problem? Details if other :. Thanks for telling us about the problem. Return to Book Page. In this fifth volume of the Jonathan Kinkaid series, our intrepid captain is given command of America's premier warship, one of the finest ships ever produced during the Revolutionary War, the large and powerful gun frigate Alliance, her mission to deliver , Spanish milled dollars from the Caribbean port of Havana, Cuba to the coffers of Congress.

Needless to say In this fifth volume of the Jonathan Kinkaid series, our intrepid captain is given command of America's premier warship, one of the finest ships ever produced during the Revolutionary War, the large and powerful gun frigate Alliance, her mission to deliver , Spanish milled dollars from the Caribbean port of Havana, Cuba to the coffers of Congress. Needless to say there are many forces that hope to grab this fortune for themselves and others would be just as happy to ensure it never reaches American shores. From the wind in the rigging to the roar of broadsides; with colorful characters, both old and new, as well as unexpected guests and surprising events, The Treasure Ship has everything one expects in a Kinkaid adventure, and more.

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To ask other readers questions about The Treasure Ship , please sign up. Lists with This Book. This book is not yet featured on Listopia. Community Reviews. Showing Rating details. All Languages. More filters. He had to catch his breath, so radiantly beautiful was she, so elegant in her Wedgwood blue dress. She seemed to float before him like an angel with Forget-me-nots in her hair, her face framed in auburn ringlets.

Her cheeks were dusted with freckles from the summer sun. Her eyes were only for him. He scarcely noticed the bridesmaid cousins, Sophronia, 22, and Dorothea, 13, standing nervously beside her in shades of blue as Reverend Spencer began to recite the marriage vows. Wilt thou have this man to thy wedded husband, to live together after God's ordinance, in the holy estate of Matrimony; wilt thou obey him, and serve him, love, honor, and keep him in sickness and in health; and forsaking all others, keep thee only unto him, so long as you both shall live? The husband's words were identical, except that in place of obey and serve, he was to love and comfort her.

They exchanged simple gold rings and then drank a toast of sweet wine to conclude the ceremony. Afterwards, the crowd was ushered outside where they watched from the steps of the church, the bridesmaids giggling nervously, expectantly, as the couple walked out, arm in arm under an arch of crossed swords. There stood Lieutenant William Billy Weatherby, blonde and handsome, first one on the right of the six-man honor guard.

On the left was a dark and equally handsome Mister Midshipman Briggs. Two additional midshipmen and a young lieutenant, all unknown to Kinkaid, had been cajoled to volunteer their services. And there, at the end, was an officer who Kinkaid was most pleased to see…in spite of his terrible transformation; Lieutenant Hill, a crooked smile lighting his disfigured face, the left side of which was scarred; pink and melted from the awful burns he had received aboard the burning Randolph.

It was under the arch of steel and a shower of flowers, then down the stairs to the waiting coach where O'Toole stood, acting as footman, a wry and happy smile on his craggy face. A disappointed sigh from the bridesmaids was followed by a murmur of shock as the wedding party noticed for the first time the horrid burns disfiguring Mr. He followed his beautiful bride into the carriage that took them to the Beacon Hotel in the center of the city where the wedding party soon followed; the barefoot O'Toole, Hill, young Weatherby and Briggs, and almost another hundred guests who drank and toasted, danced and laughed the evening away in the great common room of the hotel.

It was late when Kinkaid finally gave his speech.

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First he thanked all of the guests for their wonderful gifts, inadequately, he knew, for he was embarrassed when he failed to remember all their names. But he fumbled through, nonetheless, with the help of forgiving and comical comments from the relaxed gathering. But of course it was that evening, after the couple had retired to their room, that Kinkaid remembered best, Elizabeth lovingly forgiving all his social sins.

What time did you say the coach was to fetch us? The night had been one of infinite pleasure and mystery; simply being alone now with Elizabeth was a delightful experience, and with the prospect of many hours over the next days and nights spent entirely alone in a world of their own making before him, Kinkaid took guilty pleasure in the knowledge that at that very moment he was an entirely fulfilled and contented man. Plenty of time for you, perhaps, answered Elizabeth with a look of mock indignation in the mirror.

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Then, smiling, she asked, Are you pleased with your new robe? Not even when you are relaxing? She knew he was unaccustomed to wearing a robe, that he only wore one now for practical reasons and would never consider wearing such a thing aboard ship. She laughed, which brought him to laughter as well, the smug and delirious laughter of a newly-married man. Guessing that the sea was in some way responsible, she brought him back from his capricious pondering, asking, Jonathan, are you laughing at me?

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Of course not, my dear. I was simply laughing for the sake of hearing my own laughter, he said, the full and correct answer requiring so much thought and explanation, which Elizabeth would patiently hear and appreciate, no doubt, but Kinkaid was not always wanting to analyze or willing to speak about his innermost feeling. Unaccustomed as he was to sharing them, he tended to regard feelings as so many ocean breezes, coming and going, lingering for a moment but eventually changing, always fickle, never amounting to much of any consequence.

No, sometimes it was better to simply tender the simplest response, he judged, without taking the chance on spoiling the moment with a difference of opinion resulting from the simple fact that men and women might sometimes view the world differently. The thought made her turn and come to him, her silky chemise flowing behind, her eyes meeting his, when there came an almost imperceptible knock upon the door.

Was that someone knocking? Elizabeth asked. There, again, a bit louder this time, still barely audible. It was the shy and diminutive chambermaid, Eleanor. With her arms full of linen, she had been unable to see the steps in front of her and stepping on the gown may have resulted in an unfortunate accident. Accustomed as he was to ordering sailors about, perhaps he might have warned her with a bit more tact, he allowed, while Elizabeth had explained that her new husband was a rough and tumble sailor with the manners of a pirate.

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Kinkaid made the wise decision to back away from the door, whereupon the girl managed to blurt out, Excuse me ma'am, but there is a gentleman downstairs in the dining room who wishes to inform you…well, that he is terribly sorry to interrupt your morning, but he has most urgent business with your…husband. He did tell me his name, but…Oh, I forgot it coming up the stairs. I shall go back and…. When the girl remained standing in the doorway, Elizabeth asked, Is there anything else you would like to tell us?

Is there anything I can do for you, ma'am? Perhaps draw your bath? Take your laundry? Elizabeth had just finished her bath, all of her clothes were clean, she needed nothing from the stores, and they would soon be leaving. Casting her gaze about the room, she said brightly, You could take the breakfast tray. Why, thank you so much, Eleanor…and please inform the gentleman that my husband shall be down presently. Kinkaid felt equally puzzled and annoyed. He would have to wear his uniform. He had intended to wear his new tweed suit today, but if it were naval business….

Too sweet for this world, agreed Kinkaid offhandedly, wondering who it might be downstairs that would have urgent business with him, and on the day after his wedding, no less.

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He could think of no bills that were overdue, nor did he believe he was in trouble with anyone. It could only be some matter from the Marine Committee and so it was with some urgency that he finished buttoning his collar and then, standing before the door, hesitated as he thought to say something of comfort to his new bride. Why, we thought you were in Philadelphia…there were rumors that you were captured.

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And how did you know to find me here? Too many questions for so early in the morning, answered Simpson with a ready smile, asking instead, Who is your tailor? That uniform fits you perfectly. Of course I knew…and allow me offer my sincerest congratulations. A small gift-wrapped package sat on the table next to the sugar bowl. Simpson to the Caribbean Island of St. Eustatius, and he fondly recalled the knowledgeable and capable diplomat providing many hours of interesting and thought-provoking conversation during that voyage aboard the brig-of-war, Swift, their mutual admiration leading to a fast friendship.

However, they had no sooner returned to Boston than Simpson was off on some mysterious assignment and then Kinkaid had shipped out with Commodore Hopkins on that horrible cruise with the northern fleet. Close call. Had to leave some things behind, at that. Congress has shifted its offices to Lancaster and It was good to see Mr.

Simpson again, yet at the moment Kinkaid had little interest in hearing of his adventures or where Congress might have shifted their offices to this time, concerned more with getting back to Elizabeth so they could meet the coach that would take them to the Whipple farm where they planned to set up housekeeping and enjoy whatever time was left before the war interrupted his domestic bliss. Recalling that Mr. Simpson had always appreciated his honesty, Kinkaid took a sip, smiled, and said affably, It was kind of you to stop by with your regards, Mr. Simpson, but we were about to take a coach back.

I have a meeting with the Commander in a week and…. Actually, interrupted Simpson, that is what I came to talk to you about. Oh, it can certainly wait until tomorrow, said Simpson agreeably, then added more gravely, but not a day later.

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Elizabeth Constance Whipple, answered Simpson too cheerfully. Now Mrs. This action might not be possible to undo.

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