Captured (32 page)

Cowardly, perhaps, but there it was. He’d slunk around and hauled cargo all night, simply because there was no place else on his damned ship for him to go. Cole let out a sigh of disgust and rubbed his hand across the stiff muscles at the back of his neck. His mood didn’t improve as he watched Montgomery Persons stride toward him from across the deck.

Reginald Teller, he reminded himself, for that was the name Devon’s uncle was temporarily using. Judging by the ease with which the name slipped off Monty’s tongue, Cole presumed it was an alias he used quite often. Monty had bestowed upon him the unimaginative title of Captain Cole Smith. The necessity for the assumed names was clear: it wouldn’t do at this point in the game for Sharpe to know who was behind arranging the run.

Monty wore a dapper three-piece suit of burgundy plaid that made him look even rounder. A trim bowler hat sat at a jaunty angle on his head. “Lovely morning to run a blockade, is it not?” he said, his voice gratingly cheerful.

“We won’t be running the blockade for another three days,” Cole answered tersely. It would take them at least that long to reach the inlet of Cape Fear River.

Monty shrugged, seemingly oblivious of his tone. “Well then, it’s a lovely day to be at sea.”

Since the man obviously had no intention of leaving, Cole decided that now was as good a time as any to press him for the information he needed about Sharpe. “Where’s Finch?” he began, referring to Sharpe’s agent. The man, who’d been sent to accompany them on the run, had boarded last night.

“Ingratiating himself with your crew, I imagine. Probably at this very moment trying to discover if we are who we say we are.”

Cole had spoken with his men at length about his plan, and he trusted them completely. He had a good, solid crew. Still, he didn’t like the idea of Finch poking around his ship, looking for trouble. He leveled Monty with a cool stare. “You sound awfully blasé about it.”

“My good friend, I’m thrilled. We’ve baited the trap, now it’s up to the rat to bite the cheese. I’ve done what I needed to do to get Sharpe’s man aboard. If everything goes as planned, Finch will lead us straight to Sharpe himself.”

“Any idea where that frigate’s being routed?”

“All in good time, Captain, all in good time.”

Cole managed to temper his anger. That was exactly the sort of answer he’d come to expect from Montgomery Persons. Neither a yes nor a no, but rather a reply that cheerfully slithered around his words until the original intent became either convoluted or forgotten entirely. That trait, combined with the fact that they had nothing but the most tenuous strands of a plan at this juncture, fortified the ever-increasing doubts he harbored about Monty. Despite his glib assurances that all would be well, there was too much about the man that he didn’t trust. “You sound as if you’re enjoying this.”

“Of course I am. Why do you think I made it my life’s calling? There’s nothing like the thrill of watching a cleverly executed scheme unfold.”

“And you have no conscience as to anyone else who might get hurt along the way.”

Monty looked surprised. “Hurt? Who am I hurting?”

“Let me guess. This is where you give me the bit about not being able to swindle an honest man.”

“Nonsense. Anyone can be swindled,” Monty asserted gruffly. “An honest man simply requires more work.” He shrugged. “That’s a moot point in any case, Captain. When the Lord has chosen to make the greedy and stupid so plentiful, who am I not to share in His bounty? The way I see it, the fools in this world are like certain species of fish. They fill their place in nature as sustenance for the sharks.”

Cole shook his head in disgust. “Remarkable. You have an answer for everything, don’t you?”

“My good friend, I’m a professional. Part of an elite group of the most talented scoundrels alive today. But there are three rules to this trade by which even I must abide. One, never take a man’s last dollar. Two, never betray a friend.”

“And the third?”

Monty beamed. “The most important rule of all: never get caught.”

The conversation was doing little to improve either Cole’s disposition or his headache. Instead it served only to amplify the foolhardiness of the scheme upon which they’d embarked as well as his own dismal judgment at having allowed Devon’s uncle to lead them this far. But at this point, it was too late to go back. There was nothing for him to do but make his own position clear.

“Allow me to demonstrate the secret of my success,” Monty said as he pulled a playing deck from his coat and spread three cards on a nearby crate. He flipped them over to show three queens, and then turned them facedown again. “Surprise, Captain, that’s what I always say. Surprise a man and he won’t know what hit him.” He flipped the cards once more and the queens were gone. Sitting face up on the crate were a three, four, and five of clubs.

“Impressive,” Cole acknowledged. “Maybe now you’d like to hear a little saying of my own.”

“I’d be delighted.”

With a flash of movement, Cole reached across and grabbed Monty’s wrist. He pulled three queens from the man’s sleeve and tossed them on the crate. His gaze locked on Monty’s as he said in a low growl, “Don’t piss down my back and tell me it’s raining.” He tightened his grip on Monty’s wrist, then slowly let go. “I hope we understand each other.”

Monty pulled back and adjusted his sleeve. “Crude, but effective. I believe your point has been made.”

“Happy to hear it.”

“By the way, Captain, I’m on your side.”

“Now why don’t I believe that?”

Monty smiled broadly. “No one ever does.”

Cole watched him walk away. He remained at the bridge for an hour after Monty left, unable to pinpoint the exact cause of his unease. Despite Devon’s blind devotion to her uncle, a twisting sensation in Cole’s gut told him something was wrong. Ordinarily he wasn’t a man to believe in premonitions, but he’d spent too many years at sea to discount them completely. The sky might read bright and clear, but if he felt the coming of a storm in his bones, he made damned sure both his ship and his crew were prepared.

Given his current state of mind, it was probably not the most auspicious time to face his reluctant bride, but Cole decided there was no sense putting off the confrontation any longer. He strode to his cabin, tapped lightly on the door, and edged it open. He was just in time to see Devon, standing with her back to him, drop to the floor in a dead faint.

Cole shot forward, falling to his knees beside her in an instant. But just as he reached for her, Devon straightened and sat up. She looked up at him and blinked in surprise. “Oh, hello.”

He hesitated, his hands stopped in midair as he searched her face for signs of illness or injury. “Devon?”

“How was I?”

“Excuse me?”

“My swoon,” she clarified. “I’ve been practicing all morning. Uncle Monty says I’m dreadful at it, but I don’t think that last one was so bad.” She frowned and tilted her head to one side, thinking. “Do you suppose it would be better if I swayed a bit more before I fell?”

“You’ve been practicing…” he repeated blankly.

“Of course. It has to look real, even if it’s not.”

Cole jerked to his feet. He turned his back to her and tugged his hand through his hair, taking a deep breath in an attempt to slow the furious pounding of his heart. When he spoke, his voice sounded more than a little strained. “Devon, in the future I’d appreciate it if you’d warn me—”

“Well how was I to know you’d come barging in here?”

He turned slowly around, making every effort to summon his patience. “In the first place, I didn’t barge, I knocked. In the second place, this is my cabin.”

Devon considered that, then frowned. She rose to her feet and dusted off her dress. He noted that she wore the calico he’d bought for her in Virginia, and wondered if he could take that as an indication that her feelings toward him had softened a bit. “You could do with a rug in here,” she said. “This wood floor makes swooning awfully hard on a body.”

Cole propped one slim hip up against the washstand and crossed his arms over his chest. “Guess I don’t swoon enough to notice it.”

Her eyes wandered briefly over his body. “No, I suppose not.”

“Would you mind explaining what you were doing?”

“I told you, I was practicing.”

“Why?”

She shrugged. “Once you’ve captured Sharpe, Uncle Monty and I can return to Liverpool and go back into business. Then everything will be just like it was before I ever—” She stopped abruptly and looked away.

Before I ever met you, Cole finished for her, knowing that was what she’d been about to say.

“Before I ever left,” she finished awkwardly.

“I see.”

“Fainting dead away can come in very handy, you know. A limp is useful as well. I’m much better at that, if you’d care to see.”

“Thank you, no.”

She looked at him expectantly, as if waiting for him to speak. When he didn’t, she glanced around the small room. “I’ve been monopolizing your cabin, haven’t I? I’m sorry, I’ll get out of your way.”

“You’ve never been in my way, Devon.”

A melancholy smile touched her lips, then flitted away. “We both know that’s not true, now don’t we? Excuse me—”

“Devon, wait.” His words stopped her as she turned toward the door. He saw her stiffen, then turn reluctantly back.

“Yes?”

He studied her in silence for a moment, then moved back to the doorway and reached for the tapestry bag he’d dropped when he saw her fall. He crossed the tiny cabin in two long strides and set it on the bed. “You left a few things behind in Virginia. I thought you might want one of them.”

Devon had left exactly two things behind in Virginia, and they both knew it. One item was the bag full of stolen contraband that he’d just set on the bed; the other was Cole himself. Devon focused on the bag. “Thank you,” she murmured. “That was very considerate.”

Not knowing what else to do, he leaned against the washstand and watched her unpack. If he moved a mere inch in her direction, they would be touching, but Devon seemed blithely unaware of that fact. She went about the task with cool efficiency, ignoring him completely. “I’ll have the cook send up a tray,” he said after a few minutes. “We can eat here in the cabin—”

“If you don’t mind, I thought I might dine with Uncle Monty today. I had so little time to visit with him yesterday.”

“Of course,” Cole said. “Perhaps supper then.”

“Supper? Well, you see, I generally like to eat rather late, and I wouldn’t want to hold you up…”

“A late supper is fine. That’s usually how I like to dine.”

Devon paused in the midst of cluttering his washstand with her various creams and ointments. She glanced at him, then quickly averted her gaze. “Did I say late? I meant early. I like to dine early. Sometimes I’ll eat my supper immediately after lunch. It’s a rather bizarre habit, I know. I wouldn’t want you to change your schedule just to accommodate me.”

Cole stared at her for a long moment, his face carefully blank. “I see.” So that was the plan. She was going to avoid him at all costs until she could finally slip away. Damned if he was going to let her. “Devon,” he said firmly.

She let out a weary sigh. “Is there something else you want?”

“As a matter of fact, there is. I should have taken care of this yesterday.” Cole straightened and moved toward her. He reached into his pocket and withdrew the glittering wedding band he’d purchased last night. With tender solemnity, he asked, “Would you do me the great honor of accepting this?”

Her startled gaze flew from the ring to him. Surprise and pain flashed through her expressive eyes. She shook her head, her voice slightly unsteady as she said, “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yes, I did.”

Devon hesitated, then grim understanding crossed her features. “Ah. I see. I suppose it would look odd if I didn’t have a ring.”

“Will you wear it?”

He watched her run her hands over her skirts, the gesture that always evidenced her nervousness. She drew her brows together in a worried frown, then reluctantly accepted. “Fine.”

She reached for the ring, but Cole caught her hand instead. He traced the rough pads of his fingers over the flesh of her palm in a gentle caress. He turned her hand over and lifted it to his lips, his eyes locked on hers as he brushed her skin with a gentle, lingering kiss. Then, moving with infinite slowness, he slipped the ring onto her finger.

The second he released her, she pulled her hand away, holding it as though it had just been burned. “Don’t worry,” she said with a shaky laugh. “I won’t forget to give the ring back to you when this is over.”

“I didn’t ask you to do that, Devon.”

“Cole…” Her voice was little more than a whisper.

“Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

She spun away from him and resumed unpacking, removing the items from the tapestry bag with slow, careful precision. “You know,” she finally remarked, “once when we were in London, Uncle Monty took me to see a traveling show. There was a man there who had an ax stuck in the middle of his forehead. The doctors wouldn’t remove it for fear that he might bleed to death.” She glanced at him and lifted her shoulders in a light shrug. “If that man could learn to live with an ax in the middle of his forehead, I suppose I can learn to live with you. After all, it’s only for a short time, isn’t it?”

Wonderful. Of all the things she could learn to tolerate in her life, being married to him ranked just above being struck in the forehead with an ax.

“Devon, if there was any way I could take back every blasted word I said last night, anything I could do—” Cole shook his head, searching for the words he needed to get through to her. What he found instead were barely coherent thoughts that seemed to tumble straight from his soul. “I keep making mistakes, don’t I? Stupid, unforgivable mistakes. I used to feel that I was in complete control of my life, but now I see that was nothing but arrogance. I would give anything for just one day, one hour, to go back and do it all over.” He stopped and drew a ragged breath. “But I can’t go back, Devon. I’m asking for another chance. Please, let me make it up to you. Give me another chance.”