The Dreamer (15 page)

The duke slapped him with an open palm and sent him away. The man left with a dark, hating look at the duke.

I covered up my confusion with vehemence. I shook my head. “You don’t fool me,” I said forcibly. “One doesn’t bash one’s guests over the head and tie them up in lieu of an invitation.”

“Bash over the — Do you mean,
chérie
, that you were bludgeoned?” Gentle fingers examined my wound, and then he dropped his face in his hands and cursed. “I blame myself. It serves me right. I ought to have known my orders would be misconstrued. After all, we are dealing with pirates here,
n’est pas
?”

“Yes. Pirates,” I said, looking at him levelly.

He stepped back in astonishment. “Miss Madera, you don’t think
I
….” He crouched down next to me, a humble move that didn’t fit him. “I am innocent,
chérie
. Surely you are too wise, too clear sighted to really believe I would ever try to hurt you.”

His face was raised, his clear eyes pleading with me. Doubt gripped me. “You are a villain!”

He looked at me with hurtful reproach. “
Chérie
.” He gently touched my hand. “I have done wrong. I have aligned myself with pirates, it is true. You are right to disbelieve. You are right to abhor. It is wise. But can you not sympathize,
enfante
?” he beseeched. “You have no interest at all in the treasure? You do not wish to unearth it? To see it? To touch it? Can you not excuse my alliance with evil in order to bring about the greater good?”

“No, I … well … not like this.”

“But you are free now. You will never be hurt again. Tell me you believe me.”

There was silence. His face was tortured and pleading as I watched him.

“My dear?”

“My head still hurts,” I answered quietly. “And I haven’t had any dinner.”

He threw his head back and laughed inordinately at my words. And although I didn’t consider that they’d been very funny, a faint, reluctant smile touched my lips.

And he said, “Then we shall dine together tonight after all!”

*** *** ***

I glared at him over the dinner table. “So
that’s
why you invited me to dine with you tonight.”

“Mais non,
chérie
. It is true I needed you for the information you possessed, but how delighted I was when I found you. How utterly you charmed me.”

I clenched my jaw shut and stared at my plate mutinously. “And then when I didn’t cooperate, you had me kidnapped?”

“
Mais non.
I have already explained. I asked them to keep an eye on you, and to persuade you, if they could, to come and join us. It is the truth!”

I was silent and thoughtful.

“Is there nothing I can say? Nothing I can do to make you believe me? Try to understand. We are not very different, you and me,” he coaxed.

“What do you mean?”

“We are both logical creatures,
chérie
. Creatures of reason, as well as – what is the word – grit. We know that the truth is worth any cost, and we have the strength to pay the price.”

It
was
worth any cost, I knew. The ambit of my sacrifice was testimony to his statement. How many people would have given up their home, their job, their very life in pursuit of the truth as I had done?

I shook my head. “Are you trying to convince me that you’re motivated by
truth
?”

“Do you think I need the money?”

“Surely you’re going to
keep
the treasure.”

“
Non
! It belongs to the world.”

“The world? It may interest you to know, Duke, that I am not a stupid person,” I replied severely.

His blue eyes glinted. “My dearest child, neither am I.”

“A bunch of pirates are kidnapping and torturing for the sake of altruism?”

“No. They think they are going to get a share,
bien sur
.”

I picked up a chunk of bread and took a bite, contemplating his words. “How did you get involved anyway?” I asked crossly. “I thought you were capturing pirates, not leading them.”

“I do capture pirates. I do my best to rid the seas of these vermin. However, when I was closing in on this Looper, he sent me a message I simply could not refuse. One might call it a bribe, if they didn’t know me well.”

“He told you about the map?”

The duke nodded.

“And you’re determined to carry out your civic duty to the bitter end? So you team up with cutthroats and outlaws?”

He laughed again, but more subtly, his eyes never leaving my face. “I can be far more dangerous,” he murmured.

I quieted, believing him. I looked down and took a drink, watching the swirling liquid. “Almost at the very moment that the map can be unlocked, you get involved,” I contemplated.

“Lucky,” he answered with an unabashed smile.

“The pirates acquire a new backer, a man with ambition and connections, at the exact right moment.”

“It was all meant to be, you see?”

“Why do you say it like that?” I demanded.

“Don’t you believe in fate?” he asked curiously. “I do.”

I chewed on my lip.

He could probably feel me wavering, so he reached out and gripped my hand as he eagerly leaned forward. “The pirates do not know what I plan to do. They think we shall get the treasure and keep it. But I have my connections, and I have my plans. Once the treasure is unearthed, I will have them arrested. Do not worry. You do not do wrong to help me in this. I could not do it on my own, you see? I needed their help, and I’ve gotten it. But I need your help, too. Will you help me,
s’il vous plait
?”

His grip tightened, anxious for my answer.

Hadn’t I said it was my mission, my calling? And the captain had completely refused to help me. I couldn’t do it alone.

I nodded.

His face broke into a relieved, beaming smile. He leaned forward and kissed my cheek.

I leaned back and frowned. The captain would never have done that.

Chapter Eleven

Notes: Warning to my successors: Imprudence in the negligence of psychological training when contemplating as emotionally and mentally taxing a venture as time travel.

If there was any lingering doubt, it disappeared as I leaned over that beautiful map. I immediately noted that it was not the original map, but a copy, written on parchment common in the 5th century B.C. The Maharahi family lived during the old kingdom, which was between 2575 and 2150 B.C. The parchment was incredible, of exceptional quality and still very white in color. I fingered the material and sighed. The calf skin felt stiff yet supple in my hand.

“Can you read it,
petite
?” the duke asked, his voice eager. “Or do you need the legend?”

I straightened and withdrew my notes and went through them. “I made a copy from memory just after I saw it. Yes, here it is.”

“This is the symbol for North, here.” I showed him on the notes and then matched it to the one on the map. When I did, he turned the map around, which he now knew he was holding upside down.

I leaned over his arm and pointed. “It is near Southern Africa. You see there? We are headed to these islands. There’s a group of them there, as far as I remember. That one must be Morrell Island. Then west of that is Mount Vernon Island. There’s a lot of plate tectonic activity in this area resulting in changing land masses and such. I studied this area extensively in my preparation. I am amazed at how incredibly accurate the map is. I don’t believe a fraction of this is discovered presently.” His head came around when I said that. “My notes say the treasure is buried in the furthest west island. The latitude and longitude escape me now. At present it is enough to know we go south. When we arrive, more will present itself.”

“We could be there in as little as three weeks,” the duke told me, and I could hear the excitement and awe in his voice.

Three weeks. It was closer than ever now. It was really happening. My calling. My purpose. The map was right in front of me, real and tangible. Strange, I did not share the duke’s enthusiasm, couldn’t get into the spirit of the adventure. I thought I’d feel more excited than this.

He eyed the papers as I stuffed them into my pocket.

“When you said, ‘discovered presently,’ what did you mean?” the duke asked.

I looked at him as I adjusted the folds of my dress. “I mean there are islands there, though they’re not yet generally known.”

“Then how do
you
know them,
petite
?”

“I’ve had … an exceptional education.”

Without asking for permission, I took the map from his hands and examined it, a small, secretive smile on my face.

I could see he was still watching me. “Where are you from?” he asked curiously.

“The Americas. You know that.”

“I’ve been to the Americas. They’re not exactly the forefront of civilization.”

I shrugged.

“And your accent. It is unusual.” He looked at me a few moments longer. “Your writings, are you recording our memoirs?”

I looked thoughtful. “So far it’s merely notes.”

“
A Lady’s Guide to Modest Living
?” He said it very soberly.

I laughed. “The captain mocked me, too. But I will be proved right. Whether or not my skeptics are around to witness it or not is the question.”

“Proved right? About what?”

“Everything,” I said with careless confidence. “Everything I say shall be proved right.”

I looked down at the map, the soft, crumpled animal skin, and thoughtfully fingered the creases. It had obvious grime and smudges from being handled by dirty hands. “I had thought the captain would be my chosen instrument, but it seems that won’t be so.”

There was silence, and the duke asked me abruptly, “Would you like something to drink?” I shook my head, still examining the map.

He turned and poured a drink for himself, then sat in his chair and regarded the liquid in the glass thoughtfully. “Rachel,” he said casually. “May I call you Rachel?”

“Of course. And how might I address you? What is culturally appropriate?”

“You must call me Charles.”

“Charles,” I repeated happily. “Thank you. But that’s not what I meant. I meant, how is a Duke addressed? Is it Milord, or Highness, or something like that?”

He looked at me quizzically. “You really don’t know?”

“No. I told you I hail from far off places.”

He regarded me a moment longer, then said, “Your Grace is the accepted mode of address.”

“I will remember to make note of it … Your Grace. I hope you will help further my education regarding all social negotiations. The captain, as I’m sure you’re aware, has limited ability in this regard. I tried to convince him to accompany me on this venture, but he refused me outright. Walked away without looking back.”

He was silent, watching me. “What exactly is the manner of your relationship with Captain Tucker?”

I looked at him curiously. “Relationship? We are colleagues. Collaborators. Isn’t it obvious?”

“Tucker, he is not given to easy relationships with women.”

I chuckled. “Yes. He told me. We are like fragile stinging bees, too quick to swat away.”

“What
does
he think about you,
petite
?” he asked.

“He told me I don’t frighten him like other women do. He called me masculine once. But I think … I think he’s rectified that opinion.”