Page 27

“You are saying their loyalty is provisional.”

“I’m saying that for some, aye, the weight of their loyalty is equal to the weight of the gold in their pockets. Without it, his company of brethren would be considerably less in number.”

“Lafitte knows this?”

“Of course he knows it. Mind you, he would cut out his own tongue before admitting it, but he is fully aware his hold over them is based on him retaining access to the Mississippi and continuing the flow of profits. One of the reasons why he is so outraged at the good citizens of Louisiana, and Claiborne in particular, for ordering the arrest of his brother Pierre … is because it is an uncomfortable indication that he and all of his business enterprises might be just as vulnerable and—” he tapped the note—“ we might all find ourselves facing the gallows.”

“In that case, regardless which side he supports,” Alexander said, “I suspect neither the British nor the Americans will be comfortable letting him remain in Barataria Bay.”

Fonteyne agreed. “They would be fools to do so.”

Alexander pursed his lips thoughtfully. “I understand Lafitte has written to President Madison inquiring about the possibility of amnesty for himself and his men should he throw his support in with the Americans.”

“Several times. And he has been flatly refused each time.”

“Madison is as obstinate as Lafitte and sounds just as arrogant. However, I have it on good authority that the President is contemplating sending General Jackson and his army south to Pensacola.”

Fonteyne shook his head. “Florida is not the key. The British will happily let the Spanish and the native Indians keep Jackson’s army occupied there while they go after the Mississippi, and, not to repeat the obvious, if they gain a foothold on the delta, it will not matter who has control of Florida. ”

It was Rose’s turn to stare at him with an arched eyebrow. “Why did you not say any of this to Lafitte when we were in Barataria Bay?”

“Because the idea of supporting either side has to come from Lafitte himself. You could have talked until your face turned as red as your hair and it would have had no effect. He will do nothing without the guarantee of some conditions.”

St. Clare and Rose both waited.

Sebastien counted them off on his fingers. “Release of his brother from prison. Amnesty for himself and his men—in writing, from the President. And the guaranteed sanctity of Barataria Bay with the freedom to conduct his future business enterprises without interference.”

Alexander pondered the conditions for a moment and opened his mouth to reply but the ringing of the ship’s bell caused him to glance upward as if he could see through the boards.

“We can continue this discussion later. For the moment, there are two Crown ships with their disgruntled captains and crews to deal with. Unfortunately, I cannot be seen to play any part in what you do with them. Much of our company holdings are on British-held territories and unlike you, Captain Fonteyne, whose letters of marque are issued in Columbia, mine come from the king and can be rescinded on a whim. That, plus the fact one of my sons is governor of Tobago, puts me in an awkward position should I be seen to be cooperating with you in any way.”

He paused and smiled hesitantly at Rose.

“As much as it will gall you, I would also suggest you remain out of sight and let Captain Fonteyne take credit for capturing the Nighthawk as well as the Crown ships .

I took the liberty of sending that wretched little elf a message to take your pennon off the masthead and shield the identity of the Cygnet as best he could, though it may already be too late.

“As for the Pride ,” Alexander said quietly.

“I doubt there is one sailor in twenty who is unfamiliar with her silhouette or provenance. If the British suspect she aided in capturing the two crown ships, or, indeed, was even present here today, it would not win Lafitte any favors. I would suggest, therefore, that the longer the captains and crews of the revenuers are deprived of their freedom, the better.”

Fonteyne grinned. “I could deprive them of more than their freedom.”

“I’m certain you could,” Alexander said, “But I think it would suffice to maroon the officers on the islands and take their ships away with you.”

Fonteyne glanced down at the note Ramsey St. Clare had penned. “If I leave on the morning tide, and with the wind in my favor, I can reach Barataria in enough time to warn them of any impending attack.”

“I am coming with you,” Rose said.

“I thought you wanted to have a look at the British fleet?”

“If I look and if I find them, I can hardly do anything on my own to stop them. I would rather go where I can be of some use.”

Fonteyne waited for Alexander to protest but when no objection was forthcoming, he blew out a long, slow breath.

“I can’t stop you, of course, but I would rather you didn’t.

It will be difficult enough to convince Lafitte to play a hand he may be unwilling to play without trying to persuade him not to flay the skin from your back for stealing his ship. ”

“I am not afraid of a pompous little turd like Jean Lafitte,” she said.

“Perhaps you should be. His word is law in Barataria.”

“And I have your word you will convince him of my worth.”

“I can but try.”

Rose snorted rather inelegantly. “ Try is a feeble word favored by feeble men.”

Fonteyne’s long fingers curled tight where they rested on the tabletop. A moment later he stood and plucked his hat off the table. “I had best play my part and make the necessary arrangements to put the crews ashore. Rose, a moment if you will?”

She glanced at her father, who nodded and waved her away.

Once she had joined him in the corridor and the partly closed door threw them into shadow, his arm snaked out and curled around her waist, forcing her to crush up against him.

With no warning of his intentions, he bent and kissed her so fully and forcefully on the mouth, it drew the breath from her lungs and set her head to spinning.

When he released her, Rose gasped to regain her senses. “What the devil was that for?”

“I thought you needed a little reminder … in case you were under the impression that a night in your bed would turn me into an obliging milquetoast.”

“I was under no such impression,” she said on a breath.

“Good. Because whether you come with me to Barataria or not will be my decision and my decision alone.”

She blinked but then stared directly into his eyes for a long, heart-stilling moment. Instead of protesting, as he fully expected, or producing a threat to his manhood with another razor-sharp blade, she did neither.

She smiled.

It was no ordinary smile. It was one honed over the years she had spent dealing with narrow-minded, ale-swilling men who thought she should tremble and quake before their superior strength and brawn.

It was a smile that began to curdle the blood in his veins.

“Why of course, Captain Fonteyne,” she said softly, sweetly. “It shall be as you command.”

He eased his arms away and stepped warily back. “Rose… ?”

“Now if you will excuse me, Captain … I must return to my dear father and inquire if he would like rose or hibiscus flavored tea served with his supper tonight.”

She turned and walked back into the cabin, closing the door behind her with such a forceful slam it nearly broke the hinges.

Sebastien stared at the vibrating planks for a moment then cursed under his breath and crammed his hat on his head before heading for the upper deck.

Fonteyne went through the motions of accepting the surrender of the two revenue ships after which he somewhat trepidatiously accepted an invitation from Alexander St. Clare to return to the Nighthawk to share the evening meal.

He was relieved somewhat to hear that Nathan Reed and Archie Penman had also been invited, as had Duardo and Mercado from the Cygnet and Pride respectively.

Digby Fitch, Billy Burr, and Stubb made up the rest of the group seated around the long dining table.

The ship’s cook brought out platters heaped with ham and mutton, fresh biscuits, cheese, and fruit, each course washed down with some very fine claret.

Keeping a wary eye on Rose’s placid expression, Fonteyne relayed the information that he had advised the British captains that they, along with their crews , would be set ashore on the smaller of the two islands: Little Nobbin.

There, they would be able to forage for enough fruit and fish to sustain them until they could hail a passing ship to pick them up.

All three of the ‘captured ships’, which would now include the Nighthawk , would be taken in prize by the crew of the Black Wind .

The Daffodil with both masts broken and her sails shredded by chain shot, was by far the more damaged and her fate drew the most debate around the dining table.

“Bloody ‘ell, just sink ‘er,” Stubb said around a greasy mouthful of mutton. “It be ‘ard enough ‘avin’ the brothel lumberin’ our wake, never give a mind to draggin’ two o’ the king’s finest behind us.

Mores to the fact, we don’t ‘ave enough crew to manage ‘em all. We be spread thin as hairs on a monkey’s arse now.”

Nathan Reed agreed. “Not enough crew by half if we run into trouble. Too many guns, not enough gunners.”

“Even if I took two off each of your gun crews and ours,” Billy agreed grudgingly, “There wouldn’t be enough to work the batteries effectively on all six ships. Though it rots my tongue to say so, I agree with Stubb. While it makes for a pretty little fleet, we can’t crew all six effectively.”

“What’s more, our men may’n’t be too ‘appy at the thought o’ givin’ away the two cutters,” Stubb grumbled. “If we sail up the Tongue, we pass near enough to Kell’s Bay to take ‘em in, sell ‘em an’ put a little silver in their pockets.”

Surprisingly, Alexander was in agreement.

“Some of my crew can be ‘forced’ to remain on board to sail your prizes out of the bay, and when far enough away, can find a concealed bay to tuck the Nighthawk into along Pirate’s Alley.

I would also suggest that for appearance’s sake, you set myself and the remainder of my men on shore with the others.

Shared misery might loosen tongues of our British friends.

” St. Clare nodded toward his helmsman. “Mr. Fitch can remain on board the Nighthawk to bring her back when enough time has passed to rescue us.”

Digby Fitch touched a forelock in acknowledgement, though he did not look well pleased.

“You have an objection, Fitch?” Alexander asked.

“Oh, nay, nay, Captain. I were just hoping … I mean, it’s been a long and boring voyage from London and I would’ve liked the chance to see some real action.”

Alexander looked to Rose; she, in turn, glanced at Duardo, who was in charge of the crews. His black face split with a dazzling white grin. “Digby Fitch is welcome on board the Cygnet , if he wishes to learn how to sail a real fighting ship.”

Digby mirrored the grin, for he and Duardo often engaged in a friendly rivalry. “Or give ye some points on how to improve your lot.”

“Then it is settled. Mr. Russell, the quartermaster’s mate, can take charge of the Nighthawk .

” Alexander said. “I will adapt a suitably enraged attitude at the theft of my ship whilst we commiserate with the captains of the cutters and watch our vessels being sailed away. Might I request we transfer a barrel or two of this fine red wine my younger son gifted us? It might help pass the time until we are ‘rescued’.”

Mention of her other brother earned Rose’s attention for the first time. “Did you hear from Simon when you were in London?”

“By way of a twenty page letter,” Alexander said, smiling.

“He is still in France, though I suspect the monastic life is not all that he anticipated it would be. The wine you have before you now is, as you might agree, beyond anything I have tasted elsewhere. If I can persuade him to shed his cassock and throw in with us, it would be a fine addition to the Pirata Lobo name.”

Prompted by his words, everyone at the table took up their wine glasses and enjoyed a hearty swallow.

Only Archibald Penman refrained, though he did take up the glass and hold it to the candlelight to gauge the depth of dark claret red.

And only Rose noticed that he set the glass down again without trying a sip.