Page 29

A young, adventurous Alexander St. Clare had been caught running supplies through the blockade lines in the Revolutionary War and served time in a prisoner of war camp in Camden, South Carolina.

There he met the young Jackson, also a prisoner, and Jackson’s brother, Robert.

Both brothers contracted smallpox, and it was only through Alexander’s ability to bribe guards, they were able to get extra rations and medicine.

Through a much bigger bribe, they were released and sent home, but Robert did not survive the pox.

Andrew never forgot Alexander’s help and they became fast friends.

It was through Alexander, and more recently through Rose, that messages and information was able to be passed through yet another coastal blockade.

Anger at her brother gave her a fresh splash of resentment, for if not for his position as governor, she and her father would not have to resort to meeting on distant islands away from prying eyes and ears.

Alexander wholly supported the Americans, but he had to appear to be loyal to the British.

Perhaps her mother would not have to make such uncomfortable choices either, for despite her father’s assurances, the relationship between mother and daughter had never really been close.

Fiona St. Clare had never understood Rose’s penchant for sailing, or for thriving in the harsh conditions of life at sea.

In truth, she’d almost fainted the first time she had seen her daughter wearing trousers and climbing the shrouds to perch on one of the upper yards.

Rose loved her mother dearly, but Fiona tolerated the sea as long as she only had to see it sparkling in the distance, through a palm-shaded window.

In the years since taking command of the Cygnet , Rose had been forced to prove her mettle time and time again against men who thought she belonged anywhere but at the helm of a ship.

Big, brawny, ugly men she’d had to fight to win the barest hint of respect.

Men like Jean Lafitte and Sebastien Fonteyne, who thought the sea was a man’s world and women had no place in it.

And certainly not in possession of the necessary balls to defy them.

Faugh!

Halfway to the Cygnet , Rose dragged the oars in the water and changed direction.

It was playing with fire, she knew, to go back on board the Black Wind but she did not want to leave Fonteyne with the impression that just because he had bedded her, she had suddenly lost her mind and turned into a helpless, dependent female.

Nor could she take the chance that Fonteyne would slip out of the bay in the darkest hour of the night.

The jolly boat bumped into the hull and she quickly shipped the oars and tied it off to a mooring pin.

The gangway on the top deck was open and there were no visible signs that the crew was making stealthy plans to get under way.

There were the usual night sounds of creaking ropes and clinking chains.

Snoring from the men who chose to sleep on deck rose and fell in familiar waves.

Most of the lamps had been doused apart from the big fore and aft deck lanterns.

She noted the sentry on watch was one of her own crewmen not yet transferred back to the Cygnet . He touched a forelock and she nodded, then turned slightly when she heard voices coming from the bow. One of them was a woman’s voice. Billy Burr? What on earth was she doing on board the Black Wind ?

Curiosity got the better of her discretion and Rose moved toward the voices, careful to stay in the shadows.

The smoothly aristocratic accent of the other hushed voice identified Archibald Penman and she recalled there had been more than a few glances and whispers passed between the two over the past several days.

She could certainly not fault Billy for the attraction.

Penman was a handsome man and, as a doctor, was not in the least horrified by the scars that marred the side of Billy’s face.

He had likely seen ten times worse through the years.

Even so, she had never seen Billy Burr give any man more than a passing smirk.

Not wanting to be caught listening in the dark, she retraced her steps as quietly as she could then hastened down the hatchway and along the companionway to Fonteyne’s cabin.

Conscious of ears everywhere, she tapped quietly on the door. When there was no answer, she tapped again, a little louder, but when there was still no response, she turned the latch and peeked inside.

A single lamp was burning on the desk, the wick turned low and the light weak.

The berth was in shadow but she could see it was empty.

He must have been somewhere else on the ship, and while she debated, for a fleeting moment waiting for him to return, she talked herself out of it.

He would assume she was only there for one reason and that one reason could seriously undermine any argument she could put forth to accompany him to Barataria.

She turned and was about to leave when a slight movement in the shadows beside the gallery windows drew her gaze. He had been standing there staring out the window, at a view that would most assuredly have let him observe her approaching the hull of his ship.

“You wanted to see me about something?”

“No. No, not really.” she frowned and bit the tip of her tongue. “No. I guess I just didn’t like the way we left things between us. I’m sorry if I disturbed you.”

“You don’t disturb me. Not all of the time, at any rate.

” He moved closer to the desk where the dim light revealed that he was shirtless.

He wore breeches but his feet were bare.

“I am enjoying some of your brother’s fine wine.

I can see why your father would choose barrels of this over barrels of water to accompany him on shore.

It puts Spain’s claret to shame. Would you care to join me in a glass? ”

“I should really get back to my ship. I should collect Billy as well. She’s up top talking to Dr. Penman.”

He looked briefly startled. “She is?”

“You don’t approve?”

“Quite the contrary. Archie, despite his manners and grace, is not one to casually seek out female company.” He poured half a glass of wine and stopped. “Not for lack of effort from the softer sex, I assure you. The women in Barataria fall over themselves just to win a smile from him.”

Rose nodded slightly. “And for all her bluster, Billy is painfully shy and equally reticent when it comes to men.”

“Then I would think they are well suited to spend some time together outside the realm of smoking broadsides and bloody surgeries.”

He finished the pour and held the glass out to Rose. She had to walk forward to take it and when her fingers brushed his, she felt an instant shimmer of heat ripple up her arm and down her spine.

She suffered the sensation for a long moment before pulling her hand away.

“I haven’t come to argue with you.”

“That is refreshing.”

“Only to say that I will be taking the Cygnet and the Pride back to Barataria. Whether you care to join our company or not is up to you.”

“Lafitte will hardly give you a warm welcome on your own.”

“Whereas I doubt he will even raise his voice in anger.”

The wine glass paused halfway to his lips. “And how do you arrive at that rather naive conclusion?”

“Because as long as I have his manifests, ledgers, and logbooks in my possession, I don’t imagine he will do anything to anger me .

For a man claiming righteous indignation over accusations of piracy, he keeps surprisingly detailed records of all his business transactions.

Entry upon entry of who sank what ship and captured what cargo.

Also included are lists of judges and upright citizens of New Orleans who scream thief and pirate in public, but in private take full advantage of his black-market activities.

If those lists happen to fall into the wrong hands, well … ” she shrugged and took a sip of wine.

Fonteyne watched her lick a bead of red wine off her lip. “I wondered when you would pull that card out of your sleeve.”

“Your pages alone are quite impressive, Captain. The San Raimundo ? A Spanish treasure ship supposedly lost in a storm? Dare I ask how much bullion was in her holds? No, wait … the amount is there in the ledger, although I would wager what he told you was not the amount he sold it for.”

He took a long moment to digest her words. “I would like to see those ledgers.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t find them when you searched my cabin on those days you were pretending to be knocked unconscious.”

“I guess I didn’t search in the right places.”

She pursed her lips. “Even with the wind at our backs, it will take close to a fortnight to reach Barataria. That would leave a lot of time for reading.”

He drew a deep breath. A vein popped into prominence on his forehead, just above the healed line of the cut over his eye. “If I agree?—”

“If you agree to keep your word and present me to Lafitte as an ally, then you can do whatever you like with the ledgers. Give them back, burn them, throw them overboard, I could care less.”

He gave his head a little shake. “You don’t like taking no for an answer, do you?”

“It’s a funny little word and triggers a funny little reaction down the back of my spine.”

“Yes, I have noticed.”

She shrugged. “You’ll have to forgive me if I do have a mind of my own.”

He drained the last mouthful of wine and leaned into the stronger light to refill it.

The glow from the lamp burnished his upper torso in gold.

Every muscle, every curve, every prominent vein snaking down his arms spoke of power and authority that was firm and uncompromising, of violence held in tight rein.

Despite the streak of rebellion that still coursed through her veins, Rose felt slightly unnerved.

He was a dangerous man to toy with, and she felt suddenly very exposed and vulnerable.