Come the Night (The Dangerous Delameres - Book 1) (42 page)

Luc strode to the far wall and found Bram sitting with one arm braced around the old servant, who was pasty faced and had blood dripping from his forehead. “Can you talk? Tell me what happened, Tinker.”

“There was — three of them,” the old man rasped. “They came from behind while I was cleaning that blasted distilling pot. Looking for something, they were, and it wasn’t any bloody flowers, I can tell you that. Knocked me out cold after they tore through everything in here. After that I don’t remember nothing. Master Bram only found me a little while ago.”

“But Silver — where is
Silver
?” Luc’s voice was tight with impatience.

It was Bram who answered. He pointed to Silver’s desk. “A note was lying there when we came in. She picked it up, then gasped. After that she ran out. Nothing I could say would stop her. I didn’t know what else to do and then — then Tinker woke up, and he was mumbling, all covered with blood and…”

“Don’t worry,” Luc said reassuringly. He saw the terrible guilt in the boy’s eyes. “No one can stop Silver when she’s got an idea fixed in her head. But I’d better have a look at that note you spoke of.” Luc found the piece of crumpled vellum and studied its scrawled contents.

My dearest Silver,

I need your help.

I found something — something unbelievable. Something about the secret of your father’s death. Come to me at the old mill before sunset.

Luc

Luc’s fingers tightened.

His
name,
but not his writing. Yet how would Silver know that?

He felt fear bloom like an ugly weed inside him. When he strode from the room a moment later, his face was hard as granite.

Waves slapping on water.

The distant cry of seabirds.

A
plunk
as oars dipped and swished.

Dizzily Silver opened her eyes to darkness. They had caught her as she raced along the hedgerow before the old mill. Of course, Luc hadn’t been there. She had cursed herself for a naive fool the minute she saw them. Luc would
never
have summoned her to a place of danger like the mill. Why hadn’t she thought of it sooner? And why hadn’t she asked for help from his family?

But it was too late now, Silver thought. She was trussed like a chicken, flung into the back of what felt like a rowboat making its way by darkness. She heard muttered voices nearby and the slap of oars. Without warning hard hands yanked her up into the air and bound her inside a coarse sack.

Nausea churned through her stomach. Back and forth she swayed and pitched, hanging from the shoulder of her captor. She heard a door creak open and wood scrape over stone, and then she was thrown down upon a cold, hard floor. A blade pierced the coarse burlap.

The next moment Silver stared up, half blinded, into the corona of a candle.

“Welcome, my dear.”

Blinking, Silver pushed to her feet and glared at the man before her. A single gold ring glinted at his ear and his black eyes were hard in a walnut face.

“Who in the devil are
you?”
Silver snapped, though her feet were so wobbly she could barely stand.

The man threw back his head and laughed. “What, no fear? Excellent. I find that most amusing in a female.”

“Well, you surely won’t like it in
me,”
Silver hissed, kicking out with her foot. She missed him, however, and his response was to wrap a length of silken cord around her hands, binding them in front of her.

“There, that’s much better,” he snarled. “That should take some of the fight out of you.”

“Don’t bloody count on it,” Silver snapped. “Who
are
you?”

The man crossed his arms and stared at her, his eyes hooded. “By all means, let me introduce myself. I am Hamid bin Salim, the head of the Dey of Algiers’ Select Guard. And because I have been so honest with you, I think it is time you answered a few questions for me, Englishwoman.”

“When it snows in July!”

“A tigress to be sure,” her captor said softly, “but I wonder if you will be so very fierce in a few minutes.”

Silver’s heart began to pound. They couldn’t have Bram, could they? She felt her knees go weak at the thought of her brother paying the price for her recklessness, but she wasn’t about to show that she was frightened. “I doubt it,” she said acidly.

“How very unpleasant you English women are,” her captor mused, shaking his head. “Our women are much more compliant.”

“Thanks to whips and brutes like you,” Silver muttered.

Her captor merely smiled at her.

“What do you want from me?” she demanded.

“It’s very simple, really. First I want your father’s records. Miss St. Clair, including his notebook and all his reports. Then I want the shipment of gold that I hid in his last crates of lavender, sent from the Mediterranean on the day before his death.”

Silver’s hands clenched. Suddenly another piece of the puzzle fell into place. This was one of the men who had been hounding her father, demanding his participation in some illicit scheme.

But she hid her emotions. “I know nothing about any gold shipment, you snake. I went through my father’s papers very carefully after his death and I found no gold, I can assure you. But you must know that already, since you’ve searched the workrooms.”

“Oh, yes, we searched and found nothing, my dear Miss St. Clair. But only a fool would leave such wealth lying about where any stranger might find it. And you, my dear, are very far from being a fool, I think.” Hamid’s eyes did not leave Silver’s face as he pulled a jeweled dagger from his pocket. Its blade was polished and curved, a lethal sweep of silver. He smiled as he lodged the point against her throat. “And now I believe it is time for some answers,
ferenghi. Where did your father hide the gold?”

“There wasn’t any gold, as I’ve already told you! If there had been, don’t you think I would have used it?”

The Barbary corsair shrugged. “If you are as wise as I think you are, using it would be the last thing you’d do. We have had men watching Lavender Close for a long time now, of course. You would have known that.”

Silver glared at Hamid. “Let me go. I have
nothing
of yours!”

The Corsair smiled coldly. “Oh, but you do, Miss St. Clair. You have nearly one thousand pounds in gold.”

“You lie!”

“Not at all. They were hidden amid the cuttings and potted plants of your father’s last two shipments.”

“There is
no
gold, I tell you!”

“How unfortunate that you choose to be stubborn like your father.” He studied her over steepled fingers. “And how unfortunate for me that the men who were sent to deal with your father were such fools.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your lies grow thin,
ferenghi.
I shall refresh your memory. When your father continued to be unhelpful, men were sent to kidnap him. His business travels and his shipments made an irresistible disguise for our true purposes, you see. He could not be allowed to refuse our offers,” Hamid said coldly.

“But he
did
refuse! He would never have anything to do with sea slime like you!” Silver countered, her eyes flashing.

“Oh, he would have, my dear. After a few weeks of our consummate brand of torture he would have agreed to anything I asked.” Hamid laughed softly. “Unfortunately, the men who were sent to capture your beloved father took the wrong man. They are men of the desert, after all, and in your wretched English fog they grew confused, taking a younger man wearing a red carnation instead of your father in his red rose.”

“Luc,” Silver said, wonderingly, as the mystery finally came clear. Her father had often worn a red rose. Luc’s mistake was simply to be nearby in his red carnation.

“Yes, they took the so dashing Marquess of Dunwood instead of your father. By the time the mistake was discovered, it was too late. The captive had been held out of all contact for almost a year, under express order of our friends in London. They did not care to have him telling the world what he had learned, you understand. When we realized the mistake, we sent more men after your father. Alas, he still would not agree to our requests. Retribution was swift and absolute.”

“Scum.” Silver hissed. “You killed him!”

“Of course I did. Death is the penalty for all who betray the Dey.”

The questions that had tormented Silver for five long years came exploding from her lips. “Why did you choose my father? He knew nothing of your affairs. He had nothing to do with
any
of this!”

“Because he was the perfect means for us to ship our gold into England. Well hidden in the dirt of seedlings he had collected from his far-flung journeys, it would escape all detection.”

Silver had to marvel at the brilliance of the scheme.

“No one would think of sifting through rows of potted plants, or bags of herbs. Every year our shipments of gold increased. Our friends in London, grew more and more worried that their connection with us would be discovered, so they required foolproof disguise of our payments. The use of your father’s shipments was their idea.”

“Who?” Silver hissed. “Who planned it?”

“Lord Renwick, of course. The man whom you and your clever brother nearly captured in King’s Lynn. Yes, you have been very resourceful, Miss St. Clair. Even when we sent men to frighten you from your land, you did not budge.” He stared at her for a moment, his eyes narrowing. “You almost tempt me to take you back for my own pleasure. It would be an interesting challenge to tame a woman like you.” For a moment his blade played along her neck. “Most exciting,” he murmured, as the point fell to rest just atop her heart.

“I’ll never yield to you, no more than my father would. You’d have to kill me first.”

“That, alas, is a distinct possibility. And I believe you are quite correct. You would not be an amiable addition to my harem. You would only add discord. So we will arrange this matter simply. You will turn over your father’s journals and my gold and I will kill you quickly without any excess pain.”

Silver glared at him. “This has been a delightful discussion, but there is one slight problem. I have no idea
where
this supposed gold is hidden, or even if there ever
was
any gold.”

The corsair’s blade pressed insistently against her heart and Silver winced.

“You doubt that I am serious,
ferenghi
? But perhaps this will convince you.” Hamid whirled about and clapped his hands sharply. From the shadows at the far wall two figures loomed into view. Silver recognized one of them as the man who had bent to the oars in the boat she and Bram had followed to King’s Lynn. But the second?

Her blood went cold. Between them the two men carried another. A man who was slumped over, unconscious.

“No,” Silver breathed, horrified. “Not Luc…”

“But of course, my dear. When your Englishman escaped me, I was made to pay most dearly. I mean to taste my revenge now.”

Silver spun about, her eyes flashing. “Slime!
You
are the one who whipped him so cruelly!” She tugged wildly on the rope at her wrists.

The pirate’s cold eyes studied her. “Very true. And I mean to whip him again, right now. I trust you will enjoy it.” He nodded his head. One of the men tossed a bucket of water into Luc’s face. Half delirious, Luc sputtered and lurched upright, struggling against their grip.

“Tie him,” Hamid said tautly. When the command was obeyed, he shoved Silver into the corner and moved toward Luc. From a table near the wall he lifted a whip braided with leather and strung with discs of steel. He held it out to his grinning compatriot. “You may begin.”

Luc twisted at his bonds. “What do you want, Hamid?”

“I want,
ferenghi,
to watch you suffer; to watch you gasp and cry out, begging for my compassion — which, of course, I will not give you.” Hamid seated himself in a chair and began to eat a pressed cake layered with date paste. “As you suffer, I expect that your woman’s tongue will miraculously be loosened, and my search will be over. And now we shall begin.” He nodded to the man beside Luc.

The whip flew down, digging across Luc’s back and raking up lines of blood.

Silver gasped and flung herself at the corsair. His fist cracked against her jaw and sent her to the floor. Hamid did not even look up as he struck her, his eyes intent on Luc.

For a second time the whip cracked down. Desperately Silver looked about her and saw Luc’s satchel dropped in one corner. Saying a silent prayer, she edged forward and worked open the clasps, trying not to think about the cruel slap of the leather whip on Luc’s back.

The satchel came free. With the knife she found inside, she cut her hands free.

Two slender forms appeared at the opening, their eyes keen. “Go,” Silver ordered softly. The ferrets looked at her for a moment, tails bristling. Slowly they crept out, sniffing at the air.

Again the whip found its mark. Silver shuddered, searching deeper, but found no pistols, only a coiled length of rope. This she gripped tightly and then turned. Lit by the glare of a single dancing candle, Hamid sat before Luc, smiling as he finished off his cake and watched blood pour from the back of his hated English enemy.

The two ferrets were on their way, Silver saw. That gave her only moments to create the diversion they would need.

She moved in silence, her fingers clenched on the rope. The moment Luc’s pets neared his guards, she inched behind Hamid and jerked the rope down over his neck.

He was on his feet in an instant, and his strength was more than she could imagine. Cursing, he seized the rope and twisted about, nearly wrenching Silver’s shoulder from its socket. Tears burned at her eyes. She fought to keep her grip, but the pirate’s strength was too great. With a twist of his massive hands he tore away the makeshift noose and circled her neck.