Sea of Desire (9 page)

Padriac took another swig from the pewter
mug. “I thought perhaps that pretty baggage you brought aboard had
something to do with it. Or is she just here to warm your bed till
we reach France?”

“Hardly.” Jared straightened. “She’s Lady
Merideth Banistar. Lord Alfred’s daughter. And apparently his
fellow traitor.”

“I caught but a glimpse of her, and
admittedly the light was poor, but she seems a comely wench.”

Delany’s blue eyes shone with a sparkle Jared
knew well. He shook his head and grinned. “She’s a beauty all
right, but not for the likes of you, Paddy.”

“ ‘Tis no need to pull rank on me. You did
see her first.”

“ ‘Tisn’t rank but friendship I’m offering.
She’s not to be trusted.” Jared’s green eyes narrowed. “She’s but
someone else willing to sell out their country for gold.”

“They make our job easier.”

“They’re despicable.” Jared jumped to his
feet and paced the small wardroom. The cabin, often crowded with
officers, was empty now except for Padriac and himself. They’d
outstayed the others, who had either sought their hammocks or taken
up their watch.

Delany leaned back in his chair and let Jared
stride the length of the room several times before he spoke. “This
has nothing to do with John, you know.”

Jared turned abruptly. His hands fisted and
he speared his friend with an icy stare. But a moment later his
broad shoulders slumped and he swiped relaxed fingers down over his
face. “I just can’t help thinking if John hadn’t gotten mixed up
with this whole intrigue business...”

“He’d be alive today,” Padriac finished. “But
it was an accident. He was thrown from his horse. Besides, your
brother knew what he was about. ‘Twas his choice to become a
spy.”

“Well, it isn’t mine.” Jared leaned toward
Padriac, his palms planted firmly on the scarred table separating
them. “I’ve no taste for secrets and subterfuge. I’ve a wish to
wash my hands of it once and for all.”

“Aren’t you forgetting one small thing?”
Paddy’s dark brow arched questioningly.

“I’m not forgetting her, if Lady Merideth is
whom you’re alluding to. Nor am I forgetting that someone knocked
me out and killed Lord Alfred. And,”—Jared raised his hand for
emphasis—“stole the gold I planned to use as payment.”

“Lady Merideth?”

“ ‘Tis possible. She was certainly there.”
Jared gave an exaggerated sigh. “Unfortunately there seems to be
naught I can do about it now.” He paused. “Not unless I can
convince the lovely Lady Merideth to talk.”

“If she’s an informer, that shouldn’t be
difficult.”

“She insists she knows nothing.”

“But then perhaps she’s telling the truth.”
Paddy lifted his palms in question.

“Before he was killed, her father told me a
different tale. I think perhaps the lady is trying to control who
she tells her information to
and
for how much.”

“And you...?”

“Want her to tell me what she knows... and
for payment most likely already received.”

Padriac held up his mug in salute, then
downed the contents in one gulp. “Good luck to you, then.”

Jared shrugged. “If she doesn’t answer to me,
I’ll turn her over to Daniel when we get to France.” But he didn’t
want to.
He
was the one who had been sent to get the name of
the traitor.
He
was the one who had been lied to and robbed
and very nearly hanged. And, by God,
he
should be the one to
discover the truth. Jared splashed rum into his mug.

Delany held up his hand when Jared reached to
fill his. “I’ve had enough, and think it past time I seek me bed.
Good night, good friend.” Paddy pushed himself to his feet, only a
bit unsteadily. “I’m glad you’re back among us, safe and
sound.”

“And I’m glad you decided to stay around
Land’s End. Even though it was against my orders.”

“Now as I recall, your orders only said
something about not getting the
Carolina
captured by some
damn English cruiser. To that I followed them precisely.”

Jared’s deep laughter filled the cabin.
“Remind me to write my orders down in the future, for that’s not at
all as I remember them. Still”—Jared clasped his friend’s
shoulder—“I’m grateful that you stayed.”

“ ‘Twas nothing you wouldn’t do for me.” With
those words Padriac left the wardroom, and Jared sat down to finish
his rum.

A half-dozen mugs later, he was still in the
wardroom, more sprawled than sitting on the wooden chair. Memories
wouldn’t let him seek the oblivion of sleep.

John.

His twin brother, older than Jared by mere
minutes.

On the surface they’d been as different as
two people could be, but underneath, where it counted, they were
close.

They seemed as different as two sides of the
same coin. John was fair and slight, where Jared was tall and dark.
John was the thinker, the reader of books, where Jared was the
doer, the impetuous one who rushed into things without thinking
them through.

“Except for that one time,” Jared whispered,
closing his eyes. “Why did you have to pick then to rashly follow
the cause?”

Because John was also passionate and good.
Jared was the cynic, John the believer. A man committed to the
ideals of Adams and Jefferson. A man who knew his effectiveness
wouldn’t be at the helm of a ship or in the heat of battle.

“I can do this, Jared,” he’d said that last
time they were together. “We Americans need information, and I can
see that we receive it.”

“Don’t be foolish,” argued Jared, the selfish
brother. The brother who wanted to keep his twin safe. “You’re
needed here at Royal Oak now more than ever.”

“So you can go off on one of your ships? I’m
sorry, Jared. I didn’t mean that. I know what you do is important.
You cause havoc with the British navy as few can. But I must do
this.” His face had split into a grin. “I can’t have you being the
only Blackstone to gain all the glory, now can I? Besides, Daniel
is going to France with the delegation from Congress, and he wants
me to go also. It’s something I can do to help us win our
freedom.”

In the end nothing Jared had said persuaded
John to stay at home. John sailed for France. The next thing Jared
heard, his brother was dead. His cousin, Daniel, gave him the full
account. How John had gone to England to meet with an informant.
How he had fallen from a horse and died.

It should have been me.

Jared leaned his forehead on his balled fists
as that thought echoed in his mind. He was the daredevil, the wild
one who took chances. The less-than-perfect brother. If one of them
had had to die, it should have been he.

Jared slammed the mug down, spilling rum that
pooled, then quickly became a rivulet, dripping off the scarred
tabletop with the next pitch of the ship. This was doing no good.
Thoughts of John only filled him with impotent anger. That’s why he
tried to fill his mind with other things.

That’s why he shouldn’t have listened to
Daniel’s plea that he act as courier for a traitor.

She couldn’t sleep.

Merideth clutched her locket and paced to the
other end of the cabin. It was a mess, and prudence dictated she
try and restore it to some order before her captor returned. Mr.
Blackstone—no, apparently it was Captain Blackstone—wouldn’t like
it that she had ransacked his quarters. But she couldn’t make
herself straighten up his things.

If only she knew what was happening. Why her
father had been killed. What she was supposed to know about a
traitor. And where they were taking her.

The cabin’s contents gave no clue. After
lighting the lantern hanging over the desk, she searched carefully.
Though she could decipher some of the writing, the charts were no
help. The captain’s papers dealt more with cargo, captured and
otherwise, than with anything resembling espionage.

And the only weapon to be found was an
ancient sword. Though it shone from careful preservation, and
seemed sharp enough, Merideth didn’t think she could use it
effectively. But she intended to try.

Kicking aside a pair of breeches—pulled from
one of the trunks—Merideth walked to the windows. Her hand closed
over her mother’s locket in an unconscious gesture. The worn gold
felt warm and familiar... soothing. But in the next instant
Merideth lifted the ribbon from around her neck and buried the
locket deep in her pocket. It was the only thing of value she had.
She hated the thought of parting with it, but if the need arose,
she would. But she didn’t want it stolen by some murdering
colonial.

Merideth was so deep in thought she failed to
hear the key turning in the lock. She whirled around, her hand
spread beneath her throat, as the door flew open.

“Good Lord, what have you done?” Charts and
papers were scattered everywhere, as was every article of clothing
from his sea chests.

Merideth raised her chin, refusing to show
how intimidated she was by his tall broad-shouldered form. He
nearly took up the entire doorway, and she was certain his booming
voice could be heard all over the ship.

Captain Blackstone stepped into the cabin,
kicking aside a tangled shirt, and slammed the door. “Answer my
question, woman. What were you about?”

“I should think that obvious. I was searching
your cabin.”

Jared looked around in amazement. “And what,
pray tell, did you hope to find? I’m not in possession of any state
secrets.”

“So I noted.” Merideth stood her ground,
though his green gaze seemed to slice through her.

“If this is your usual method of spying, I
should think you aren’t too successful.”

“I was looking for a weapon.” As one, their
eyes slid to the sword lying on the window seat beside her.

“I would think a pistol more your style,”
Jared said.

“I have no
style
where weapons are
concerned.”

“My mistake.” He bowed, his gaze never
leaving her. “Now, may I suggest you repair the damage you’ve
done?” His voice was low, like smooth silk encasing solid steel.
But it did nothing to disguise his intensity.

Merideth swallowed. Helplessness was not a
feeling she enjoyed. She’d felt it too much during the last year
not to recognize it With all her being she wished to toss back her
hair and send him a look filled with disdain. To tell him he was
free to do with this mess what he chose, but she would do
naught.

In the end she bent and in an angry motion
swept up a rumpled shirt. A slightly musky scent she recognized as
Captain Blackstone’s drifted from the linen. To salvage her pride,
she balled the shirt and tossed it toward the open chest. It caught
on the lid.

Jared could barely keep from laughing. At
that moment she reminded him of his younger sister, Betsy. She was
a stubborn child, woman now, and used to getting her way. Then Lady
Merideth spoke and her words erased that image from his mind,
reminding him that their business together was serious—deadly
serious.

“I want to know where you’re taking me... and
why.”

Her chin was set at a defiant angle, and
though she swept up a chart rolling near her feet, Jared didn’t
think she planned to do much more toward cleaning his cabin,
regardless of his implied threats.

“I thought I made myself clear as to the
why.” Jared crossed his arms and studied her face. She still had
the look of an angel about her. But a fallen angel to be sure.

“And I think I’ve made myself clear that I
don’t know the information you seek.”

“Your father indicated differently.”

“Before you killed him.” Merideth watched a
dull-red stain his bronzed face. “Is that why you did it, because
you thought me easier to coerce?”

“If I thought that, I most certainly was
wrong. Your father was willing to traitor himself for mere
coin—”

“That’s a lie!”

“You, on the other hand,” Jared continued as
if she hadn’t spoken, “have yet to name your price.”

“There is no price because there is no
information.” She didn’t know why she took the effort to dispute
him. His smirk made it obvious he didn’t believe her. But she
didn’t care what he thought. She knew. Knew her father wouldn’t be
a party to treason, no matter what the rewards. He wouldn’t.

Perhaps he had let their finances get out of
hand. And he did have a weakness for gaming tables and drink, but
he was a loyal Englishman. He was!

“I’ve had enough of this.” Before she could
back away, the captain’s grip, iron hard, shackled her arm.
Merideth yanked but it did no good. He held her still. His eyes
burned into her, and his hot breath wafted across her cheek as he
spoke.

“If you think to demand more money in France,
think again.”

“That’s where you’re taking me, France?”
Merideth tried to mask the panic from her voice. But he seemed to
notice neither her tone nor her words.