Chapter Four #2
“Put out a reward. Someone around here has to have heard of her.”
Isaac bowed his head and left Christian alone in the room. His gaze flitted to the empty spot on his desk. Where his compass should be. Hands clenched, he sat down. His great grandfather had received it when he served in the Royal Navy and the instrument had been passed down to each generation.
His father had given it to him the day he’d sailed away to take revenge on the pirates responsible for his wife’s death, never to return. Told him to keep it safe.
Now, a blasted pirate had it.
He hadn’t been jesting earlier. If the governor told him to back off, he would hire privateers to hunt her.
She could run. She could hide.
But he would find her.
He stared at the map and the little red “X” he’d marked off the coast of Florida. If she tried to sail that route again, one of his men would see her. Jerking the knife free, he traced the point up and down the coast. The question was, which way from that mark did her lair lie?
North would be best. He’d sent men to investigate well-known hideouts from Brunswick all the way up to Charleston. But he’d visited many of those cities himself in the last few months. Surely, he would have noticed a saucy flame-haired wench.
Another fiery-haired beauty crossed his mind and he cursed.
He’d offended Miss Warstein last night. And keeping on her uncle’s good side was vital. The merchant had more ships out on the water than anyone else, and making an enemy of him would upset the governor. Dropping his blade, Christian pressed his fingers together.
Time to pay a well past due social call.
Outside, the sun beat down on him while he waited for his horse to be tacked.
Once mounted, he kicked the bay gelding into a trot.
The Warstein estate lay less than a mile from his manor and he frowned.
He should have called on Henry Warstein months ago, when he’d first moved to Savannah.
Gaining the merchant’s eyes and ears would be a huge asset to his mission.
When he rode up the drive, he nodded his appreciation for the well-maintained grounds.
Large oak trees leaned over him and the stately white manor commanded one’s attention.
A footman rushed forward before Christian pulled his horse to a stop.
His boots crunched into the dirt and he tugged at his cravat as sweat dampened his skin.
The buzz of cicadas filled the air and he yearned for the slap of waves against a hull.
The butler opened the door at his first knock. A responsive and alert staff. Which reminded him, about time to hire on his own butler. Being at sea so much over the last few months had pushed it to the back of his to-do list.
“Lieutenant Thompson, calling on Mr. Warstein.”
With a nod, the butler turned. “Of course. Right this way.”
The oppressive heat followed them inside and Christian scowled. No sense staying ashore in this weather. He’d make sure to be back on a ship before the week’s end. His boots clicked against marble and he glanced up the sweeping mahogany staircase before following the butler into the drawing room.
“If you take a seat, Mr. Warstein will join you momentarily.”
Christian bypassed the settee and came to a stop in front of the fireplace.
He ran his thumb across the mantle. Not a speck of dust. A bookshelf sat in the corner and he drifted over.
An eclectic mix of tomes stretched across the shelves.
In one handspan, he found a bible, a collection of astronomical charts, and a book on dry land farming.
A slight breeze found its way in through the open double windows and he strolled to them. From here, the glimmer of the river could be seen between the trees.
“A poor substitute for a man of the sea.”
Christian turned at the deep voice and Mr. Warstein joined him. “On days like this, I’d almost rather not be able to see the water. A sorry tease it is.”
The merchant extended his hand. Tan skin and calluses betrayed his well-manicured nails and starched shirt.
A firm grip spoke of a man still in his prime.
Christian rose a brow. So, Warstein didn’t sit behind a desk all day, content to rake in his profits.
This man worked. And hard from the looks of it.
“Lieutenant, what can I do for you?”
Christian released Henry’s hand. “We’ve been neighbors for several months now, and I thought it high time we met.”
Warstein chuckled. “Nonsense, Lieutenant. A man like you doesn’t pay a visit unless he wants something.” Grey eyes sharpened as they swept over Christian’s profile. “After all, I hear you’re a busy man these days.”
Christian turned back to the window. “If I’m to be honest, I wanted to hear your thoughts on the pirate trade you’ve encountered. I’m sure you’ve heard the governor’s plan to make these waters safer for all.”
“An ambitious plan it is. Though it’s well known you’re doing a fine job on your own. What insight could I possibly give that you don’t already know?”
Christian stared hard at the water. “I’ve heard it said you’ve never suffered a loss to pirates. An amazing feat for having such a large fleet.”
“Lieutenant, it’s no secret my ships travel heavily armed. Any vessel foolish enough to pick a fight with one of my captains will find itself resting on the seabed, far below the waves.”
“A bold statement.”
Warstein took a step to close the space between them. “When you’ve spent your whole life at sea, you learn the only way to survive is to be bold.”
“Word is, a dangerous captain has moved into these waters.” Christian turned to face Henry, whose fingers twitched on the windowsill.
He met Christian’s gaze. “Captain Thorne.”
Christian nodded. “He’s a pirate who kills for—”
“He kills for sport.” Warstein’s eyes darkened. “You have my full support in your endeavor to take him down.”
There was more to Warstein’s dislike of the infamous pirate, Christian would bet his life on it. He fought back the urge to command more information from the merchant. From what he’d perceived thus far, Henry Warstein was not a man who would take well to being ordered about.
“I’m glad to hear. If you receive any intelligence on his whereabouts, let me know. He’s made quite the name for himself and the president wants the threat he poses eliminated before he becomes too comfortable in American waters.”
Warstein peered at him. “I’ve already put out some feelers of my own. Perhaps my men can find something of use to you.”
He pivoted and Christian followed him from the room. Before they made their way toward the foyer, Christian paused. A white brow lifted when Henry looked back.
“Was there something else you needed?”
Christian scratched his chin. “I wondered if I might have a word with your niece.”
The merchant stopped and his gaze raked over Christian. His body had gone rigid. Interesting.
“Samantha?”
“I believe I may have offended her last night and I’d like to make amends.”
Some of the tension eased from the other man’s shoulders. He gave a little laugh. “My niece, offended? You must have said something very foolish indeed.”
After a pause, he turned and led Christian back down the hallway. They walked out onto the veranda and Warstein pointed down the steps.
“You’ll find her in the garden somewhere. My guess would be under the big oak tree.”
No chaperone? Perhaps the merchant wasn’t as sharp as he came off. Christian started down the steps.
“I will warn you, Lieutenant, she’s in a mood today. If you’re the reason, I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes.”