Virginia Henley (29 page)

Jack Raymond followed Captain Bowers and his first mate as they set out to round up their men. Most of the crew were at the Bucket of Blood, a hangout for merchantmen that Jack had never dared enter before. Jack spotted the two sailors sitting at a plank table with the bosun from the
Heron
, another Montague vessel that was in port.

Jack sat down at the table. “Let me pay for this round. I have a proposition that will put money in your pockets.”

The men were all ears until he mentioned the
Half Moon.
“Where the hell would we get that much gunpowder?” asked a reluctant Bowers.

“Christ, I don’t want to blow up London’s docks. One small explosion in the hold will set the ship ablaze.”

The first mate said skeptically, “Even if you supplied the gunpowder, it would be impossible to get it aboard. O’Toole has a day watch and a night watch.”

Raymond pressed them. “Two quid apiece to demolish the
Half Moon.
”

They shook their heads.

Raymond upped the ante. “Five!”

With a great show of reluctance Captain Bowers turned him down. “Wouldn’t attempt it at any price. O’Toole’s too ruthless.”

Jack stood up. “You gutless cowards! I can get a man murdered for ten quid. Any sailor on London’s docks would take my arm up to the elbow for half that.”

Jack Raymond stormed from the tavern in a temper and the bosun from the
Heron
soon followed.

When they were alone, Bowers grinned at his first mate. “If we tip off O’Toole, he’ll double what Jacko offered.”

    
D
aniels, the bosun from the
Heron
, hurried after Jack Raymond before he could make a deal with someone else. Gunpowder was in plentiful supply since the war with France. The navy yards were stacked high with barrels of the stuff as well as other explosives. Reaching Jack, he tapped him on the shoulder. “I might be interested in yer proposition, mate. Pinchin’ a barrel of gunpowder is child’s play, but it takes balls to light the fuse. Obviously yer men from the
Swallow
‘ave none.”

“How would you get it aboard?” Raymond inquired.

“There’s ways an’ there’s ways,” Daniels said cryptically.

“Such as?” Raymond pressed.

“I can walk aboard with the others if they take on cargo or supplies. Or I can blow a hole in the hull from the outside. I’m a bosun, hulls are my business. Failin’ all else, I’ll grease a palm.”

“I’ll give you five now; you’ll get the rest tomorrow when the deed’s done.”

“I’ll get it now, mate. Gunpowder is very tricky stuff—it can blow a man to smithereens so ‘e can’t even be identified.”

Jack didn’t argue the point. He counted out the money into the bosun’s hand.

Daniels spit on the money and smiled. The bosun knew merchant vessels seldom sailed to Dublin without smuggling some contraband. All he likely needed to do was wait. Under cover of darkness all barrels and kegs looked much the same.

    
S
ean and Emerald strolled hand in hand through the pleasure gardens of Vauxhall. The promenades beneath the trees, illuminated by colored Chinese lanterns, were designed to induce romantic nostalgia in its jaded London patrons. Paths laid out between flower beds, statues, and fountains led to various entertainments such as music, dancing, and sideshows.

They stopped to watch a Punch and Judy show and laughed at the classic battle of the sexes. Emerald added her voice to Judy’s and called out, “Marriage is legalized slavery—an institution of bondage!” The other women in the crowd joined in, booing every time Punch opened his mouth.

Sean pulled her from the crowd, laughing. “You like to stir up trouble. I should have taken you to a prizefight.”

“Ugh, I couldn’t enjoy watching men bloody each other.”

“It’s not always men. At Figgs’ in the Oxford Road they have lady sword fighters. They have to hold half a crown in each fist. If they drop the money, they lose.”

“You’re making it up,” she accused.

“I’m not. Londoners are the strangest people on earth.”

Emerald began to laugh. “You know, I believe you’re right. Just look at these people. They’re not here to see Vauxhall, they’re here so Vauxhall can see them. They are parading around on show, like actors on a stage. They’re not wearing clothes, they’re wearing costumes.
Ridiculous
costumes! All the women look like strumpets and the men like buffoons.”

He hugged her to his side. “That’s because they are strumpets and buffoons.”

When they came to the refreshment booths, Sean insisted she try everything. They sampled oysters, black peas, meat pasties, roast chestnuts, and plum cake and washed them down with ale and cider.

At dusk they found a secluded path that led to a private arbor, but after only two kisses their privacy was invaded by other amorous couples, so they strolled down to the river to watch the shower of fireworks. When they tired of the noisy crowds, a barge took them back downriver, where they disembarked at Tower Wharf. From there it was only a short walk to where the
Half Moon
was moored.

The docks were very poorly lighted, which was, of course, by design. More business was carried out under cover of dark than was ever done in broad daylight. To add to the sinister atmosphere, fog rolled off the Thames, shrouding the vessels moored at dockside and obliterating altogether the ships riding at anchor.

“Is it far?” Emerald asked anxiously, clinging tightly to his hand.

He slipped a strong, comforting arm about her, drawing her closer. “Don’t be afraid. The
Half Moon
is moored next to the
Indiaman.
” The prickling sensation was there again at the back of his neck. He put it down to Emerald’s nervousness.

They were halfway up the gangplank before the man on deck watch saw them and lifted his lantern to discover who was boarding the ship.

“Good evening, sor, I’ll inform Cap’n FitzGerald yer aboard. It won’t be long before the tide turns.” An eerie shout came from the fog and an answer floated down from the yardarm.

“Tell the captain once I get my lady settled, I’ll join him at the wheel. An extra pair of eyes wouldn’t go amiss on a night like this,” Sean called.

“Aye, aye, sor.”

The companionway was dim belowdecks. Wisps of fog turned the light from the ship’s lanterns a sulphurous yellow.

Inside the main cabin the bosun from the
Heron
sat waiting in the dark. He’d simply walked aboard with the barrel of gunpowder on his shoulder while kegs of illegal French brandy were being loaded in the hold. When he heard footsteps approaching, he held his breath and raised the brass-barreled boarding pistol chest high.

Sean turned the knob on the cabin door. As it swung open the hair on the nape of his neck stood on end like raised hackles. One hand swept Emerald behind him while the other drew a small, deadly pistol from his belt. Sean’s heart was in his mouth, for though his pistol was loaded and primed, there was no powder in the touch hole for safety reasons. Before he could tilt the gun and tap the powder, the intruder struck a flint and set it to a hurricane lamp.

“It’s a bloody good thing ye didn’t shoot or ye’d have blown us straight to hell,” said a mocking Irish voice.

“Is it Danny—Danny FitzGerald?” Sean hadn’t seen him in over five years. “What the devil are you doing?”

Danny tapped the barrel of gunpowder sitting on the map table. “I’m here to blow up the
Half Moon
, an’ a bloody easy task it would have bin. Yer security is nonexistent. Ye have enemies out there—I know, I work for ‘um.”

“My father told me he had FitzGeralds aboard every Montague vessel.”

He nodded. “I’m bosun on the
Heron.
I go by the name of Daniels. I report regularly to the Murphy brothers.”

“My thanks, Danny, for your loyalty to the O’Tooles.”

Danny shrugged. “Shamus pays me well.”

“My captain and crew will feel the rough edge of my tongue over this business.”

“What can ye expect from bloody FitzGeralds?” he asked with a straight face.

Emerald was trying to piece together what had happened. “Did my father pay you to blow up Sean’s ship?”

“Yer husband.”

“Jack? Oh, my God! Sean, he wants to kill you.” She began trembling.

He winked at her. “1 wonder why?”

“It’s because of me,” she whispered, not sharing his amusement. Her eyes flooded with tears.

“Well, it will take a better man than Jack Raymond, my beauty.” He sat her down and poured her a stiff drink. “Sip slowly on this. I’ll be back shortly.”

They heard the anchor chain being raised through the hawsehole. “Tide’s turning,” Danny said, heading for the door.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Emerald cried.

“Sorry,” Danny said, hauling the barrel of gunpowder to his shoulder. As he and Sean headed up the companionway he said, “I had to take his money before somebody else did. Most Montague crewmen would take a bribe.”

“They certainly took my money,” Sean said with irony. “If the Montagues tried once, they may try again, closer to home.”

“Forewarned is forearmed, Danny,” Sean said, lifting the gunpowder from his shoulder. “Mr. FitzGerald!” he roared, striding down the deck toward his captain.

David FitzGerald’s hands froze on the ship’s wheel.

A
s often happens, the night fog was a harbinger of heat. The next day, as the
Half Moon
passed the Isle of Wight, the sun shone brilliantly and the English Channel experienced only a light westerly breeze.

Sean rigged a canopy so Emerald could spend the days up on deck watching the crew unfurl the sails and untangle the lines. She stared spellbound as the men, Sean included, climbed the rigging with the agility of monkeys.

The
Half Moon
took on fresh supplies and water when it reached Cornwall, where Sean took Emerald ashore to explore Land’s End. As they stood on the cliffs he slipped his arm about her and pointed across the glistening water.

“This is said to be the entrance to a fertile land, which was swallowed by the sea in the eleventh century. It reached all the way to the Scilly Isles, twenty-eight miles in yonder direction. From where we are standing, some people claim to have had visions of a lost city.”

“Oh, yes, the legendary land of Lyonesse! My mother told me all about it when I was little. The domes and towers and battlements of the drowned land sometimes appear far out to sea.”

“Do you believe in myths and legends, Emerald?” “Yes, yes!” she said passionately. “Don’t you?” He gazed out to sea, his eyes reflecting silver in the clear light. He shook his head. “I used to, once upon a time.

Hang on to your childhood beliefs and memories, Emerald. Don’t let them slip away as mine did.”

His reflective, melancholy mood lasted all through the next day as he pointed out landmarks along the coast of Wales, recounting their haunting legends. Then he showed her how to predict the weather by observing the brooding mountains. “If their heads are shrouded in mist, run for cover; but if you can see clear to the highest peaks, it will be sultry, as it has been the last couple of days.”

Sean pointed out the different seabirds and taught her their names. Soon she could tell razorbills and petrels from gulls and gannets. On the third day she joined him at the wheel while he relieved David FitzGerald by navigating the
Half Moon
from St. George’s Channel into the Irish Sea.

At his urging she took the wheel, feeling most daring, yet knowing his powerful arms were ready to correct any mistakes she might make. “Guess where we are heading,” he murmured into her ear as his hands covered hers.

She looked up at him over her shoulder and saw the teasing light in his eyes. Realizing his introspective mood had vanished, her heart quickened with excitement. “Give me a hint.”

He smiled down at her. “I’d better take the wheel now; the Menai Strait is a bit narrow.”

“Anglesey!” she breathed joyously.

“Your memories of the island are happy ones. I want to make more memories today. Unforgettable ones. Memories to cherish. I want you and me to be able to look back on the next few hours as the happiest of our lives.”

They left the crew swimming in the warm turquoise waters and, hand in hand, sought out their crystal cave. They undressed in silence, each knowing that the most sacred rituals should be performed naked. All their senses and thoughts were attuned to each other.

In wonder they explored the glittering labyrinth whose
walls were encrusted with diamondlike crystals. To them this high-vaulted cavern would always be a place of enchantment; its pool made magic by a myriad of dancing rainbows. In awe they touched its jeweled walls, then dipped their toes into the gin-clear water.

Sean watched Emerald flaunt her beauty before him in the iridescent light and shadow. His silver eyes told her just how lovely he found her.

Emerald, watching Sean’s dark, powerful beauty, allowed herself to become intoxicated by his nearness. He had taught her how to feel, how to appreciate the beauty of colors and sounds and to live to the full in the present moment, separating it from past and future.