The Diamond King (26 page)

“My husband said you have been in Paris. How wonderful. I do miss it. You must tell me all the news. He said you knew the Duc d’Estaige. Such a good man.”

Jenna’s heart sank. Having never met the duc, or been in Paris, she had no answer.

The captain broke in. “Aye, he is, and his wife is the toast of Paris. Her brother is to marry a German princess.”

“And the fashions?” Gabrielle asked.

“They have not changed,” Jenna said, which seemed a safe reply. Surely English fashions would not be that different from French fashions.

“Your dress would be the envy of Parisians,” her erstwhile husband told the hostess, and the woman blushed with pleasure.

“Enough about fashion,” her governor interrupted. He led the way into the dining room and to a large table sparkling with silver and crystal at one end. “I thought we would eat at this end,” the governor said, “and Madame Malfour can tell us more of Paris.”

Trying not to send a panicked look at the captain, she sat down.

“In the meantime,” the captain said smoothly, “I would like my first mate returned to the ship.”

“You do not enjoy our hospitality?”

Jenna held her breath. There was a trace of a threat in the question.

“My mate has particularly enjoyed it. You have good wine, your excellency, but I have an unruly crew and I would dislike them to become anxious.”

The governor’s lips thinned, but then parted and turned upward again. “He can go back tonight.”

“And my wife and I?”

“I pray that you will stay tonight. We have business to conduct. After supper.”

Jenna almost dropped the knife she was using. To stay tonight meant sharing a room with the captain. She did not think she was ready for that.

A gleam came into the captain’s eyes. “Her clothes ...”

“My wife will lend her something tonight, or you can send for something from the ship. I understand two of your crew are outside.”

“That would be Burke and the cabin boy.”

“Aye, one of them is a lad. They have been fed, but they will not leave.”

Jenna froze. What if one of them slipped and mentioned her name?

The thought did not seem to bother the captain, though, nor did the idea of spending the night in the same room. “Then my wife would be delighted to stay here,” he said.

“She has been wanting time ashore. And after supper, I’ll send the boy back to the ship.”

“Done then,” the governor said, and started eating.

His wife kept glancing at them. Probably because of the captain’s scar, and her own wearing of gloves at supper. They must appear to be an odd couple. At least the gloves hid the lack of a ring.

Jenna was barely conscious of the food, although the captain ate well. She felt like a fly snared in a web, and it did not help that the web was of her own making. How could she get through an evening with the governor’s wife without exposing the fact that she had never been to Paris? And how could she get through a night in the same room as the captain?

And ever more important, if the
Ami
was allowed to sail with all aboard, then where would she be going?

She had been carried along like a feather in the wind these past weeks, ever since the letter came about the possible marriage to Mr. Murray. There had been Maisie’s fall, the voyage, the capture of the ship, and Meg’s illness.

Until she had taken this step earlier today, nothing had been of her own doing. In one impulsive, or perhaps not so impulsive, move, she had perhaps changed her life forever. If she allowed herself to think about it, she knew the knot of apprehension lurking inside would become enormous. Where would she go? The captain could not wait to rid himself of a Campbell’s presence. He would use her well enough. But then ...

“You did not tell me that the Duc d’Estaige was one of your backers,” the governor probed.

“I have many backers,” the captain replied cautiously. “Not all want their names used. It might be politically unwise for them. My wife does not understand such things.”

“Women rarely understand business matters,” the governor agreed.

Jenna clenched her teeth at the patronizing words. She knew exactly why the captain said them but they grated, anyway. She looked at the governor’s wife.

A flash of resentment sparked in Gabrielle’s eyes, too.

A life of quiet desperation, Jenna thought. Was that what she had bargained for when she had accepted David Murray’s proposal?

She turned to Gabrielle. “Do you have children?”

The woman’s face brightened. “
Oui, deux gar�ons et deux filles
.”

Jenna seized upon the opportunity to take the conversation away from herself. “Please tell me about them.”

She kept Gabrielle busy talking about her children, listening with one ear to the discussion at the table, wondering how she would get through the evening.

And the night.

Alex saw the flash of discomfort in Lady Jeanette’s face as their host suggested they spend the night at the governor’s residence. He did not want it any more than she. He did not need the infernal attraction that seemed to rage between them every time they were together. But she had created the problem by claiming her need to be with her husband.

The quarters were luxurious and it would be an insult to refuse. He could not risk that, not when he was close to escaping. He only hoped that no British warship would appear in the bay in the meantime.

He also hoped that the governor, true to his word, would release Claude and let him return to the ship; young Robin and the impetuous Burke with him.

Regardless of his distaste at spending the night with the Campbell, he could not help glancing at her throughout the meal. She wore those bloody gloves again, and something inside him rebelled at the thought. She had been so careful to cover the birthmark when he’d first met her, and had continued to do so until it interfered with the care she’d given Meg. It was obviously hurtful to her in more ways than he had imagined.

Except for the gloves, she looked enticingly attractive. Her eyes sparkled as she spoke fluent French to their hostess, and the rose in her cheeks from the Caribbean sun emphasized her amazing eyes. And when she happened to catch his glance, her long dark lashes veiled them in a gesture both shy and seductive. It was a potent combination.

His loins hurt.

He tried to focus on what the governor was saying, even as his gaze continued to return to his ... wife.

“Ah, the passion of the young,” the governor said to him in a low voice. “I can tell yours was a love match. I envy you. She is an appealing woman.”

Not beautiful. Appealing. And the governor was right. She had little of classic beauty. Her mouth was too wide, her eyes too large, her face more heart-shaped than oval. But there was something about her, an earnestness that was intriguing for its rarity, an intelligence that challenged, a vulnerability that provoked all that was protective in a man. He had never thought of a woman as a partner before, but now as they sat at this table in common cause, he knew an odd sense of comfort and even lightness.

A Campbell. Bloody hell.

Their gazes met again. A flame leapt into her eyes as the contact lingered, and he knew it most probably was every bit as unwelcome as the ache tormenting him. She had no use for him. She knew him for what he was: a thief and pirate and even worse. And yet for a child’s sake, she was helping him at the risk of her own future. She must resent that unreasoning attraction as much as he.

“
Oui
,” he finally said.

“I can tell we will have little business tonight,” the governor said. “You are too ... distracted.”

Alex tried to concentrate. “I do have a proposition,” he said.

The governor looked at the two women engaged in a lively conversation now. “Your wife offered me those lovely emeralds she is wearing.”

Alex felt as if a piece of lumber had just crashed into his chest. “She is a generous woman,” he said, “but I hope to make you a better offer.”

A broad smile spread across Louis Richard’s face.

“I’ll sell the contents of the
Charlotte
to Monsieur Sevier. He bought the last ship I brought here, and I think he would like these particular goods. You can keep the ship yourself to do with as you wish. If you think it best to return it to the English, then so be it. If you would rather make a profit yourself, I will not mention it to my backers. I will give them my share from the contents, instead.”

He watched the governor mull over the proposal. The ship was worth far more than its contents. Greed warred with caution on his face. As well as the opportunity of exchanging the ship for England’s goodwill, he would not be taking the chance of offending Alex’s French backers.

On his side, Alex could leave the island, and with at least a good part of his prize.

The governor finally nodded.

“I would like to see Sevier in the morning. I want to sail tomorrow night.”

“I will send someone and tell him of our agreement. He can look over the manifests and ship tonight.”

“
Merci
,” Alex said. “And may I compliment you on the wine. I believe there is some very good stock on the
Charlotte
, and I’ll exclude that from Monsieur Sevier’s purchase.”

The governor nodded solemnly. “You are a gentleman, Captain Malfour. I hope there are no ... misunderstandings between us.”

The man was actually fawning where yesterday he had been arrogant and cold and even contemptuous.

Was the change due to the Campbell lass?

No doubt. He owed her.

Owing a Campbell was his worst nightmare.

Or would it be spending the night in the same chamber?

* * *

Jenna wanted the evening to end. She wanted it to continue forever.

As the governor conversed with the captain, she tried to keep the conversation going with the governor’s wife. She had never been in society. She had kept to her room, engaged herself mostly in books.

Her governess had tried to instruct her in the conversational arts, but seeing that she was hidden from most of society, Jenna never thought it important, and neither had the governess. The conversational tidbits were mostly inane observations about the weather. A lady, the governess had said, never discussed politics or issues of the day. She would be considered a bluestocking. No man wanted a bluestocking.

But then no man had wanted her in any event, bluestocking or not.

She tried to dismiss that thought. She had been aware of it for too many years. She was unlovable. An unsuitable wife. She should be thanking her father profusely for arranging the long-distance match. That’s what everyone said.

But now she found herself conversing perfectly well. Asking questions kept her from answering any awkward ones, and the governor’s wife seemed to enjoy the attention of a newly arrived visitor. She wondered if her growing skills had something to do with newfound confidence. She had reached the governor, had possibly changed his mind. She had helped Meg, and had gained the friendship of both her and the lad.

Still, she had to hide the icy fingers of fear and apprehension raking up her back. Fear that the governor would change his mind about releasing the captain. Apprehension about spending time alone with him, the pretense of their marriage becoming too real for comfort, if only for one night.

What had she done?

The minutes crawled on.

Finally, the governor rose. “I understand,” he said, “that my guest would enjoy spending some time with his wife. I would not be accused of keeping them apart.” He turned to the captain. “My men will escort your mate to the ship as well as the others who came ashore with madame.”

Madame
. The title seemed strange to her. As she stood, she steadied herself. She’d had several glasses of fine wine, a rare occurrence for someone who rarely drank anything other than watered wine. She’d told herself she did it to be polite, but it was also the stuff of courage, false as it might be.

She thought she had been careful not to have too much. Now she wondered as her legs seemed uncooperative.

She thanked her hostess effusively, then the governor, afraid that she was prattling.

The captain wrapped an arm around her, putting her even more off balance. She did not know how he would react when they were alone. Oh, he had been mild enough when told of her deception, but Claude had been in the room and the governor’s soldiers outside.

It did not help that the captain’s arm’s touch torched a path of heat that quickly radiated to every part of her body.

It did not help at all.

He turned suddenly, as if he too was burned. “I will have that cigar and brandy with you,” he said to the governor. “After taking my wife upstairs. I fear she has land sickness.”

She remembered Hamish warning her about that, recalled the odd feeling of being at sea when really on land. “Aye,” she said softly. “I am feeling a bit...”

The governor bowed. “I understand. I hope you have a good night, madame.”

The captain guided her out then. She felt oddly compliant. Whether it was due to the wine, the warmth of his embrace, the heady success of her mission, or just plain exhaustion, she did not know.

She ascended the stairs with him, this time with no guard escorting them. She could not doubt her success. And in achieving what she had set out to do, she had likely destroyed any chance she had for a marriage and home and children with David Murray. She had been impulsive. She had wanted an adventure, and she had let her heart rule her head.

Melancholy gripped her. Another result of wine? Or the prospect of the next few hours or the next few days or the next few years?

Too soon, they reached the room where she had been taken earlier. The captain opened the door, and both of them saw Claude sitting in a chair, a glass of wine in his hand.

“You can go now,” the captain told him. “Find Burke and Robin and take them back. We sail tomorrow night. Just before we sail, you can row the passengers ashore, but I don’t want any of them on deck until we are ready to release them. They cannot know what happened tonight or that Lady ... Jenna had any part of it.”