The Duke's Lady (Historical Romance - The Ladies Series) (16 page)

“He’s been unconscious most of the time, Cap’n, but he did come to when we brought him aboard.” Drake stopped abruptly and drew in a deep breath. Only then did Jean realize that the sailor saw the fury that twisted in his gut and was evidently reflected in his eyes.

He grabbed the bloke by the front of his shirt. “Damn it, Drake! Spit it out—what did he say?”

“T-take it easy, Cap’n. H-he said they’d been tricked by the bloody English. Said the bastards burned everything. That’s all I know, Jean—honest.”

“Jean, let him down!” Pierre shouted as he walked up the pier and laid a hand on his brother’s shoulder.

“Sorry, mate.” Jean sighed. “I just need to know what happened.” Slowly, he let go of the material clutched in his hands and returned the sailor to his feet. He turned to where Ben lay and, seeing the severity of his wounds, shouted, “Take him to the main house and fetch Doc.”

Jean stood by the railing of his veranda and peered through a glass at the calm ocean, which undulated with a high tide. He scanned the horizon, leaning against a whitewashed column, one of sixteen that surrounded his home. With a sigh, he lowered the spyglass. No ship approached. He turned and went back into his beautiful Southe
rn-style home, which was located in the center of the island.

He moved into the large airy bedroom through doors that opened out onto the veranda. Ben lay in the bed surrounded by pillows and looking very much out of place amid the fine furnishings. His usually tanned face was drained of color. He’d protected Jewel since she had turned thirteen. Seeing him now, Jean wondered if this meant the worst.

“How are you feeling?” he asked as he pulled a chair up beside the bed but remained standing.

Ben opened his eyes, looking sheepish in his weakened state. “I’m sorry, Boss. I’ve let you down, and I wouldn’t blame you none if you slit my throat.”

Jean patted his arm. “Start from the beginning, and tell me what happened.” Jean sat, grateful that Ben seemed better. Weak from loss of blood, Ben had been severely dehydrated, his skin pale, his breathing shallow, and for a time Jean had thought they would lose him. Several weeks had passed before Ben had been well enough to speak, but now he’d finally come around.

“It was a trick.” Ben paused long enough to prop the pillows behind him. “The British ship sat heavy in the water with little firepower for protection. It looked to be an easy mark; however, when we got closer, secret panels in the ship swung open and the hidden eighteen-pounders soon left us helpless. When they pulled beside us, we were prepared to fight, but the belly of that ship was filled with soldiers.” Ben paused to sip some water; then with much irony in his tone he continued. “We were no match for them.”

“Why were you there?”

“I tried to talk her out of it, Jean. But she was determined after receiving your note.”

Jean frowned. “What note?”

“I never read it, but she thought something had happened to you—and she mentioned something about a treasure.” Jean said nothing for a moment. This was the second time he’d heard the word “treasure.” “Did they take any prisoners?”

“Aye, one.”

“Who?”

“Jewel.”

Jean’s throat tightened. “Why?” he whispered.

Ben shook his head. “I don’t rightly know, but the captain of the British ship seemed to know her. I heard him say that now he’d get his gold. I thought he meant our ship, but he gave orders to burn the
Morning Star.”
Ben took another sip of water. “Of course, they thought I was dead, but I fooled them, sliding overboard just before she blew.”

“Did anyone else escape?”

“No, Cap’n.”

Jean rubbed his chin as he thought. “You said the Englishman mentioned treasure. Were you carrying any on the ship?”

Ben shook his head. “No, Jean, none.”

Damn. Jean’s face paled. He tensed. Someone knew about the treasure. But how? “If the captain knew about Jewel, someone from within our ranks has betrayed us. Do you re
member the English bloke’s name?”

Again Ben shook his head. “Maybe it will come back to me later.” He slumped back on his pillows, dejected. “I’m sorry, Cap’n.”

“The fault is not yours, my friend.” Jean reached over and squeezed Ben’s shoulder. “When you’re on your feet again, you can help us find her.”

“Aye,” Ben agreed. “I’ll always remember the bastard’s face. Mean he was. He’ll pay when I get my hands on him.”

“Oui,
Ben.” Jean stood, then nodded slowly. “The bastard will pay dearly! That I promise you.”

Chapter Twelve

“His Grace has excellent taste.” The jeweler smiled and leaned forward over the mahogany and glass counter. “Yes, excellent. Would you care to see the fine choker?”

Adam nodded, then glanced down at the necklace of fire opals and diamonds snuggled in a nest of blue velvet. Each opal, set in rich gold, picked up the fire from the other stones. It was magnificent indeed, Adam thought as he imagined the rare stones against Jewel’s throat, pulsing with her heartbeat.

“This choker, Yer Lordship, has perfectly matched opals and diamonds.” The jeweler dangled the piece from well-manicured hands. “The sparkle would make yer lady’s neck appear to be on fire. I’ve more expensive rubies and diamonds, but by far, this piece is the finest.”

“How much?”

“Five thousand pounds.” The jeweler beamed.

Adam raised an eyebrow. He’d only come into the shop to pick up his repaired timepiece. “Harry, I’ve known you a long time. I believe you can do better, my friend.”

Harry laughed. “For you, Yer Grace, I’ll gladly sell this one-of-a-kind gift for a mere”—he rubbed his chin—“four thousand. I do say, you will set yer lady’s heart aflutter with such an expensive gift.”

Adam smiled. “I’m sure the lady will love the necklace. She has twice the fire as these opals.” He placed the velvet box in his coat pocket. “Merry Christmas, Harry.”

“And Merry Christmas to you.”

Back in his town house, Adam buckled his bag, wondering what had possessed him to spend so much. It had to be that the holiday season had seeped into his bones. He laid two silver-wrapped boxes upon his satchel, making sure he wouldn’t forget them when he returned to Briercliff. They contained Jewel’s ball gown for Jonathan’s party and a silver fox cape that had also cost him an ungodly sum. Good thing she wasn’t a permanent part of his life, or he’d go broke.

“Is everything ready, sir?” Giles said as he entered the bedroom.

“I believe so. I’m sending you ahead with the trunks and if at all possible, I’ll leave for Briercliff tomorrow.”

Adam led a procession of servants downstairs, and after the bags were placed in the coach, he glanced up at the sky. “I don’t like the looks of those clouds. The weather has grown colder since yesterday. Perhaps we’ll have snow for Christmas.” He couldn’t remember when last he had looked so forward to a holiday.

“I hope it doesn’t snow before we get home, sir,” Giles grumbled as he climbed inside the satin-lined coach. “Snow has a way of making the roads impassable.”

“Don’t be a cantankerous old goat, Giles.” Adam shut the coach’s door. “I’ll see you at Briercliff.” The team of four leaped forward with a flick of the reins, and the coach bearing the Trent crest careened around a street comer and out of sight.

Pulling up the collar of his greatcoat, Adam walked to the docks. When he reached the river, he stopped and looked around before moving to the wharf. The Thames was busy today, he thought as he watched the sailors working on the docks, unloading the ships. A barrel rolled down a plank, and Adam turned in that direction. A weathered-looking waterman caught the cask and rolled it over to the deep underground caverns where London stored casks of wine, and also Adam’s favorite—brandy.

Watermen of all shapes and sizes labored together, but one man in particular caught Adam’s attention. Dressed in a threadbare dark jacket and trousers, the man leaned against a post, rolling a cigar. A scarf was looped warmly around his neck and a battered old cap perched on his head. Just as he put the cigar in his mouth, Adam offered him a light.

“Thanks, gov’nor,” the man said without looking up. “Can you tell me where I might find Captain Lee’s ship?” Adam asked.

“Aye, I can tell you, mate. But why you’d want to know is beyond me.” He looked up at Adam, taking in the cut of his clothes. His expression changed. “Begging your pardon, Yer Lordship. I can take you there if you’d like.”

Adam laughed. “I’ve the same opinion of the captain. Unfortunately, I do have business to discuss with him. What’s your name, mate?”

“Norman, sir,” he said, his color slightly heightened. “You won’t go telling him that I put a mark on his character now, will you?”

“Mum’s the word.”

“I heard tell he flogged a woman for some minor offense. No telling what he’d do to a man.” Norman looked at him, one eyebrow slightly higher than the other as he added, “He’s a mean one.”

Adam’s stance immediately grew rigid as he remembered the ugly welts along Jewel’s back. He fought to maintain an expressionless face. “That’s interesting. What did she do?”

“Don’t rightly know. You know how rumors get started. Heard it was his doxy—some said it was a pirate, and another said it was a child.” Norman shrugged. “No matter. Don’t trust him none.”

“I appreciate the information and the warning, Norman. It’s been a pleasure to meet you.” Adam extended his hand and waited for the shocked sailor to take it. “I would be most humbly grateful if you would lead the way to Lee’s ship.”

Adam followed the limping man down the wharf. He could feel his blood pounding in his ears at the tidbit of information he’d just heard. It could just be a coincidence, so he’d put it away for now.

They passed several ships before they came upon Captain Lee’s. “Obliged,” Adam said, handing Norman a gold coin. “Buy yourself a new hat for winter.”

“Thank you, Yer Lordship, and good day to you, sir.” Norman smiled as he walked away. “Hell, I can buy a whole wardrobe with what the fancy bloke has given me,” he said to himself. “Yep, looks like it’s going to be a good Christmas after all.”

Captain Lee leaned back in his chair and slowly rolled a hot cup of tea between his palms as he thought of the impending meeting. Maybe, by a stroke of luck, Lord Trent had found Lafitte’s niece. Absentmindedly, he rubbed his index finger across the scar on his face and sneered. How he’d love to get his hands on the little bitch who’d given him this ugly reminder, but how was he going to accomplish that task? Evidently, Adam Trent didn’t know who she was, or maybe she just wasn’t talking. Lee wasn’t quite sure how he was going to answer His Grace’s questions. He was well aware of Trent’s dangerous reputation, and didn’t want to cross him. He’d just have to see what happened.

Adam boarded the ship, and a deckhand led him to the captain’s cabin. Rapping on the door, Adam heard a deep voice call for him to enter.

The man behind the desk stood as Adam entered the room. “Your Grace.” Lee nodded his head.

“Captain, I’m glad you took the time to see me,” Adam said coldly before sitting down in front of the desk.

He stared at the gentleman who sat across from him. Lee was of medium height and just a bit on the heavy side. His dirty blond hair fell over dull, bloodshot eyes—probably from a previous night of boozing, Adam thought. He also noted that Lee’s looks had changed. A scar now ran the full length of his face, marring his features. Adam watched as the captain absently rubbed his finger over the still-red scar. Obviously, he hadn’t had the mark long.

“It appears you’ve been in a bit of a scrape since the last time I saw you,” Adam commented.

“I had the misfortune to tangle with a pirate’s knife. But I assure you the one that did this”—he fingered his wound— “was in worse shape than I by the time I’d finished with him.” Abruptly, he changed the subject. “Why did you wish to see me, Your Grace?”

“I pulled a young woman from the sea who had apparently been washed overboard. I understand you’ve been asking questions about her. I thought perchance you might know her identity.” Adam saw a momentary glint of something in Lee’s eyes before his previous guarded expression reappeared. “Why haven’t you asked her yourself?”

“You see, that’s quite impossible, Captain. She has temporarily lost her memory.”

“I see.” What a stroke of luck, Lee thought. The girl has no memory. If in fact she was the pirate’s niece, he couldn’t wait to get his hands on the little baggage, and this time he wouldn’t lose her.

“Well, Captain?” Adam snapped. “I’ve not waited all this time just to sit here. Can you help?”

“I don’t know if I can be of any assistance.” Lee’s mind began to chu
rn. He had to think fast. And he’d better make it good. “I had my niece on board ship when a terrible storm hit, washing her overboard. However, I don’t see how she could have survived the choppy sea.”

Adam rubbed his chin. “And when was this?”

“I don’t exactly remember, but it was sometime toward the end of September. My dear sister has been beside herself with grief.”