Chapter 20
Ruark sat outside the Lusty Mermaid at one of four trestle tables that looked out on the Solway Sea, a treacherous body of water that eventually became the headway for the River Eden.
A thin layer of mist had formed on the water and was now drifting inland, and encapsulated the sounds from sea: the faint sound of a ship watch bell, the lap of water on the beach.
Two black-and-white mongrels milled at Ruark’s feet, supping on scraps he had fed them earlier from the trencher the little barmaid had set in front of him.
Colum sat at the table behind him. “Do ye think Hereford will attempt to kill ye now or later?” he asked.
A soft chuckle conveyed Ruark’s response as he had just been thinking that very thing.
Lounging with his legs stretched in front of him, a mug of ale in his gloved hand, he and Colum were watching the progress up the street of Hereford and his entourage.
The warden had rumbled into this small seaside hamlet with forty heavily armed men and attempted to find space in the narrowly confined square for all the horses and men.
After leaving his solicitor in Hawick, Ruark had traveled more than a week to get here.
Fifty other men from his ship were also with him, though a person would be hard-pressed to spot the infiltrators among the scruffy-looking residents of the village.
They looked busy, moving casks and hogsheads of rum from offloaded flats on the beach a short distance away and flirting with prostitutes, casting lots on a blanket spread near the street.
Out on the water, stark masts bobbed in the cove, a sixteen gun-privateer, brigantine, and a sloop, all sharing the inlet waters of Solway Firth, where coasters could unload their cargo.
Goods landed here would be carted inland into Carlisle and from there, dispersed.
Her silhouette visible against the sunset burning into the sea, the Black Dragon pulled against her anchor chains.
With its raised quarterdeck and forecastle, and carrying thirty-six guns—which had now been removed—the frigate was a substantial vessel, too large to come into the shallower waters except during higher tides. This was smugglers’ country and Ruark knew the waters well.
Hereford scanned the thatch-roofed buildings up and down the street before fastening his eyes on the lopsided placard bearing the inn’s name and the carved image of a buxom mermaid. Nothing of his dark attire caught a gleam of the fading sunlight that glinted off the glass behind him.
Ruark hadn’t shaved for today’s meeting. He’d clubbed back his hair, but little else about his appearance would pass for civilized. Hereford looked at him and chuckled. “You look at home with every other cutthroat present.”
Ruark lazily sipped his ale, noting the dozen men standing near the warden. Hereford was a leader at ease with his perception of power.
Hereford turned and looked out at the Black Dragon floating languidly on the calm surface of the sea. “Aye, she’s a beauty, Roxburghe.” His gaze went to the packet of papers lying next to Ruark’s elbow and he smiled, an unsubtle gloat. “You brought the papers, I see.”
Hereford sat and snapped his fingers for the barmaid. She hurried to him with ale. He sent her off for vittles. “Don’t mind if I celebrate this occasion with supper and drink.” He tossed his gloves on the table and reached for the packet of papers.
Ruark dropped his hand over the bundle, preventing Hereford’s taking possession of it.
“One question,” he said, disinclined to engage in small talk with the bastard.
“We both know Roxburghe Shipping has profited from certain illegal enterprise. What I do not understand is how my father could have been in league with you.”
A minute change in Hereford’s eyes betrayed his surprise and Ruark wondered if it was at the question asked or more so because of what Ruark had not asked: Had Hereford killed Ruark’s father?
The chair creaked as Hereford sat back and relaxed his weight.
“Roxburghe was a man who understood politics,” he said with a bored air.
“Your father outwardly supported Scotland’s independence whilst secretly supplying the king’s armies with the weapons to fight against the Jacobites at Culloden.
I know this because I supplied him with the firearms.”
It was all Ruark could do not to stand and grab Hereford by the throat. Ruark’s father was many things, but his loyalty to Scotland had never been in doubt. “Is that right?”
“The Roxburghe ships now carry a dominant share of Scotland’s trade because of my help.
In exchange, I would give him a tax-free cargo of which to dispose and he would give me the enormous profits.
And in so doing, I kept my family name clean.
A business arrangement that benefited us both.
But not once in all those years did we meet.
He had an emissary. Why would I kill your father?
For all that he owed me, I should have owned the Roxburghe fleet of ships. ”
Ruark studied the mug of ale. “Who was the emissary?”
“Your village fiscal handled the monetary transactions and all the arrangements. He is now dead. Ask your uncle how that might have happened. No one was more adept at safeguarding your family honor, including committing a bit of murder, if he thought someone was robbing Stonehaven’s coffers.”
Even as Ruark knew the warden wanted to foment discord within the Kerr ranks, his comments were not easily dismissed.
Perhaps because Ruark recognized truth in Hereford’s interpretation of Duncan’s character. A loyal Kerr and a Scotsman, Duncan would not hesitate doling out clan justice to a traitor.
Hereford’s supper arrived in a trencher, roasted chicken and potatoes, steaming in the cooler air outside the tavern. Hereford forewent the eating utensils and tore the breast in half with his hands, observing Ruark with interest as he ate.
“You and I are alike,” Hereford said over a mouthful.
“We’ve done a bit of pirating.” He swallowed the ale and dabbed at his lips with the back of his sleeve as he observed Ruark.
“We can each share the largesse of what is fast becoming the wealthiest empire on earth. We can enjoy a profitable partnership or I can become Roxburghe Shipping’s biggest rival. ”
“Your generosity overwhelms me, Hereford. But I would as soon lie with a warthog as partner with you.”
Unaffected by the insult, Hereford shoved away the trencher and reached across the table for the papers. This time Ruark did not stop him as his greasy fingers snatched up the packet.
“All is in order then?” Hereford popped the wax wafer on the packet and unfolded one sheet after another of blank paper. “What is this?”
“You did not think I would just hand over the Black Dragon.”
Hereford’s face darkened a shade. Ruark leaned an elbow on the rickety table. “The ship was not mine to sell.”
“What do you mean? Not yours?”
“I sold it to an associate a week before I wed Rose.” He opened his arm to encompass Colum, sitting comfortably behind him seemingly enjoying the cool breeze. “If you want the Black Dragon, then you will have to negotiate with the new owner.”
Hereford sputtered. “That . . . that is mad. You signed—”
“Mr. Colum is Cambridge educated. He is a lawyer. He informed me the documents I signed are worthless and took great issue that I attempted to sell you something that belonged to him. I only wish I held the same power to stop you from taking Kirkland Park.”
“If you renege on our arrangement, I will consider all agreements voided.”
“Do tell, Hereford. Rose is my wife and that is something you cannot undo.”
“Except by your death.”
Hereford sprang to his feet in a brash movement, his hand on the hilt of his cutlass.
But before the weapon cleared its sheath, Ruark had the tip of his own blade at Hereford’s throat.
From every direction, a hundred men suddenly drew sword and pistol, the clatter of imminent warfare sounding in the street, sending innocent bystanders to ground and behind the safety of doors.
Ruark met Hereford’s furious glare. “Tsk. Tsk,” he said. “Do we kill each other now or later? ’Twould be a shame if you died, Rose being your heir and all.”
“Fuck you, Roxburghe. There is naught a thing I will—”
Ruark used the tip of his cutlass to trace a circle over Hereford’s chest. “I should kill you for what you put Jamie through. For putting my family in chains.”
“I was within the law to hang the three of them.”
“No profit in hanging,” Ruark said flatly.
“You are an opportunist. Know now, the only reason you are still alive is because I have no proof you killed my father. I have asked enough questions this week of people around Chesters to know you were nowhere near there the day someone shot him. I had no great love for the man, but his murder almost caused a bloody war between us. I have no want to watch other men die for a lie.”
A tic was visible in Hereford’s jaw. “What is it you want?”
“You already gave me what I want, Hereford.”
Hereford let loose the hilt of his sword and the blade slid back into its sheath.
His men followed suit. A man rarely bested, he took the loss mildly.
“You always did have the bollocks of an ox. I had heard grumblings that you had a tendre for the girl, that she had charmed Stonehaven’s laird.
Though I didn’t expect that Elena’s daughter would have half her mother’s fire . . .”
“Do you like fire, Hereford?”
Let him have the Black Dragon, Ruark thought. He was impatient to be gone from this place.
“Colum, would you be willing to trade your ship for another? Roxburghe Shipping has a few in need of a good captain.”
Colum scratched at his whiskers as he contemplated the Black Dragon. “I was hoping you wouldn’t ask me that, Ruark.”
“Colum—”
“Aye, ’tis a fair trade.”