Chapter 17
“Wherein the fates are met bravely, and despair snaps at our heroine’s heels.”
Henri watched Lawrence and wondered how he could be so calm. She remembered him the same way in the shop. He had to know he was going to be caught and what that meant for him, and yet he had seemed far from panic.
She tried to emulate that calm and wondered if like her he was screaming inside his chest. Her heart was thudding too hard, too fast, and her mind was racing, trying to think of ways she could contrive his escape.
For he was right about one thing; this adventure had showed her how easily you could lose everything.
A wrong decision, a foolish step on a downward path, and everything fell about in ruins before your eyes.
He pulled out the key she had discovered from under his shirt, and she watched as he removed it and knelt to open the big chest at the foot of his berth.
As she had suspected it was filled with gold and silver and all manner of glittering objects.
Hearing her gasp of surprise he looked up at her and grinned.
“I was a very good pirate,” he said with a devilish wink, and she felt her heart squeeze at the idea of all that adventurous spirit, that wicked humour and the merry twinkle in those bright blue eyes being extinguished. She wouldn’t let him hang, she swore to herself. No matter what.
He selected a small, blue velvet bag and re-locked the chest before walking back to her.
“This is for you,” he said, holding out the bag. “For everything you’ve suffered, and to ensure that, whatever happens, you will be safe.”
She took the little bag from him with fingers that trembled and opened it at his insistence. She poured the contents into the palm of her hand and blinked, momentarily speechless. For there, nestled in her palm, sat seven large, uncut diamonds.
“I pray that you will trust Alex and marry him, for he will do everything in his power to see you happy. But ...” He paused and there was such warmth in his eyes she didn’t know how she managed to stand still and listen and not dissolve into hysterics at the unfairness of it all.
“I know now just how stubborn you are, so whatever happens, this will keep you provided for and in no one’s power.
I only ask one thing of you, Henri,” he said, his voice low.
“Whatever you do with the other six, have one made into something pretty. Wear it when you are happy and remember me. Will you do that?”
She swallowed hard and reminded herself that he wasn’t going to hang, she wouldn’t allow it.
Blinking away tears, she nodded, and he smiled and kissed her cheek, returning the diamonds to the bag one by one for her, as her hands were trembling, and she seemed unable to move.
He looked away as she tucked the jewels securely into her under things and then followed him out the door.
The men yelled and roared and stamped their feet, angry and uncomprehending at the loss of their captain. Lawrence yelled for silence, and she looked around at the faces of men who all turned to him, waiting to hear what their captain had to say.
“Quiet, you miserable beggars,” he roared, though there was humour in his eyes.
“We all know, in this life, that our days are numbered. Well, my number just got called, but my fate is not yet yours. Mousy is your captain now. If the fates allow, I will make my escape and find my way back to you, but if not ...” He swept the hat from his head and opened his arms in a theatrical gesture.
“Then toast to your dear, old Captain Savage, and remember that he was the canniest and the best - and without a doubt the prettiest and most loved by our captives!”
There was laughter at that, and he grinned at his men, showing Henri all too clearly the character who had been written about in the pamphlets she’d read at home.
“But remember most of all, the spoils he led you to made your fortunes, my fine varlets and scapegallows! And then for the love of God, spread yourselves to the four winds, find a nice fat wife each, and a good living and enjoy a little peace. For if you don’t you’ll be following me to dance with Jack Ketch, and we all know the steps only too well.
Take care of yourself, lads. I’ll be seein’ ye! ”
He turned to Mousy, his expression grave. “The minute I’m on that boat, get clear of here, as far as you can get, and keep this safe.” He pressed the key into his hand. “When you hear the news of my death, share it out among the lads.”
Mousy’s jaw clenched, and he put the circle of thin leather around his neck and the key fell beneath his shirt. “I’ll keep it ‘till ye get back ‘ere, an’ that’s all I’ll do,” he growled, daring Lawrence to contradict him with a furious glare.
Lawrence huffed out a laugh and nodded, and Henri watched as the two men grasped each other’s forearms and embraced briefly.
“Be seein’ ye then, Cap’n, I’ll take good care o’ the Wench while yer gone.”
“I know you will,” Lawrence said, his voice quiet now.
He looked over the side and Henri followed his gaze. A rope ladder had been slung over the rail and at the bottom waited a small boat. There were four armed men aboard and Henri suddenly noticed the men on deck around her with muskets aimed at those below.
Dizzy with fear, she watched as Lawrence climbed onto the ladder.
“Come then, Miss Morton,” he said with a smile, offering his hand as though he was helping her to board a pleasure boat for a Sunday picnic. She took his hand, and managed the rail, finding her feet on the ladder and his reassuring presence behind her, guiding her down into the boat.
Once in the little bobbing gig, she grasped the sides as the sea tilted and rocked them, and the men fell on Lawrence and put him in chains, his arms bound tightly behind his back. There were roars from the deck above and Lawrence yelled himself hoarse, shouting for his men to hold.
“Leave him alone,” she shouted in fury. “He’s come willingly, he’s unarmed, what more do you want?”
The men glared at her in disgust, as though she was quite mad to defend the monster they found themselves in company with, and Lawrence hushed her with a shake of his head.
“They’re just doing their job, Miss Morton.”
Henri gritted her teeth and saved her anger up. She’d turn it on the right man soon enough, if he didn’t do all in his power to help his brother.
She closed her eyes and gripped the sides of the boat as though her life depended on it, quite certain that at any moment they would be tossed like a child’s toy, to sink like marbles into the fathomless cold below the thin planks of wood her feet rested on.
It was with relief and no little surprise then that the thud of wood on wood confirmed they’d made the distance between the ships. She looked at Lawrence to see his gaze trained on his ship as she drew away, as far and as fast as it could go, just as he had instructed.
The sun was sinking, and the sails all lit up in gold, making it look fanciful and unreal, like something from a mythical tale of Gods and sea monsters. For a moment she saw the loss in his eyes and then, perceiving he was watched, he blinked and forced a smile.
“You’re safe now, be home before you know it,” he said with a wink.
Henri scowled at him, and he laughed softly before the men hauled him to his feet.
They set her to climb first and she made her way, hampered by sodden skirts that wrapped around her ankles and made it heavy work.
She made the rail and stood shivering as she found herself confronted by armed men.
So many to secure one man, it almost made her laugh.
She felt Lawrence would be pleased that his reputation had made them take such measures.
She screamed as the man himself was pushed with force up over the rail. They’d made him climb with his hands bound and he hit the deck with a curse.
“For heaven’s sake, are you so timid you must abuse an unarmed man,” she raged at the sailor who had pushed him over the rail.
He scowled at her but held his tongue and snapped to attention as the commander approached them.
She turned and swallowed a gasp as she saw the Earl of Falmouth stride towards her.
He looked her over, those cool grey eyes sharp and assessing.
She realised suddenly that she could see the likeness between the men, in their great height, in the breadth of those wide shoulders and that thick black hair.
But where Lawrence’s gaze held amusement and that merry, wicked twinkle, this man’s presence was far colder.
“I am relieved to find you in such good spirits, Miss Morton,” he said, his voice as calm and emotionless as she remembered. He reached for her hand, and she curtsied, stiff and formal, as he placed a perfunctory kiss on her fingers. “I trust you are no worse for your adventures?”
Henri thought in those words there was perhaps a thread of anger, or was that concern, she couldn’t be sure.
She raised her chin. “I have been well treated, my lord, and would suggest you interview your captive in private before you allow your men to abuse him any further. I feel we both have much to tell you.”
He frowned at her, clearly perplexed by the demand in her voice, curiosity alight in his eyes.
Lawrence, she noted, had kept his eyes down, his dark hair fallen around his face.
The earl inclined his head a little. “Your wish is my command. Bring the prisoner,” he instructed, and then gestured for her to take his arm and she followed him to the captain’s cabin.
Though not much larger in size, the earl’s cabin was full of polished wood and gleaming brass. It spoke of great wealth and power, and a man who paid attention to details. Suddenly Henri found she hated him more than ever for having all this when Lawrence had lost so much.
The earl turned once Lawrence was brought in, held fast between two men who threw him forward, so he fell to his knees on the cabin floor.
“Oh, can’t you leave him be!” she exclaimed and ran back to Lawrence, falling to kneel beside him.
“If you’ll forgive me for noting it, Miss Morton, you seem unaccountably concerned for the man that kidnapped you,” the earl remarked, with a cool and slightly disgusted tone.
She stared up at him in fury, feeling the anger she had been tamping down threatening to finally overspill.
“I do not forgive you, my lord! For he did not kidnap but rescued me from a fate I could not contemplate, and if you open your eyes for a moment I think you will find you have much to forgive yourself for, if you have a heart that can feel any remorse at all.”
“Miss Morton,” Lawrence said, his voice soft and amused. “Please do not berate him so, he has nothing to reproach himself for I assure you.”
“What the devil is the meaning of this?” The earl snapped and then fell silent as Lawrence raised his head.
“Hello, Alex.”