Page 3
Lafitte pursed his lips and expelled an exaggerated sigh.
“What possible arrangement could you be proposing, my dear? The major ports of Charleston, Savannah, Norfolk, as well as those as far north as Chesapeake Bay and Delaware, are locked up tighter than a virgin’s thighs.
Britain is determined to cut the upstart colonies off from all trade.
Thus, the reason why you find us sitting here pondering the poor state of our enterprises. ”
She scoffed. “I should think you are making even more enormous profits off the conflict. Merchants from both sides of the Atlantic are still able to trade their goods in the islands of the West Indies, where business can be conducted in neutral ports. Some of those ports you control, do you not? Those same ports allow your ships to bring embargoed cargoes here to Barataria and from here, the goods are transferred to New Orleans.” She leaned in and smiled again.
“Whoever controls what comes into the port of New Orleans, controls what goes up and down the middle of the Americas. And you, Sir, control New Orleans.”
Lafitte’s dark eyes narrowed. “You seem to know a great deal about my business. Ah, but then I must remind myself that you are the sister of the Crown-appointed governor of Tobago, Ramsey St. Clare, who has the ability to issue or rescind the letters of marque that allow trade in the islands.” He waved his hand airily.
“Even so, you give me far more credit than I am due. I have recently been branded a pirate and a scoundrel and my presence in New Orleans has been heartily discouraged.”
“False modesty does not do you credit, Captain Lafitte.”
“One could say the same about false bravado.” He took a sip of rum and studied Rose’s features in the soft lamplight.
“In this case, there is nothing false in the sorry condition in which we find ourselves. My own dear brother, Pierre, has been arrested and currently resides in a fetid gaol cell under charges of piracy. I barely escaped in time to avoid being locked in the cell beside him! The governor, Claiborne, has placed a five-hundred-dollar reward on my head! Tempting enough for my own men to look at me with a nefarious eye.”
Sauvinet was clicking through his memory and interrupted. “The Cygnet , you say? Surely not the same vessel rumored to have run through the blockade into Savannah.”
Rose nodded. “We ran it three times.”
“Indeed.” Sauvinet’s piglet eyes widened. “I was not aware. Nor was I apprised that her captain was a woman.”
“My husband is the ship’s captain of record. Unfortunately he passed away three years ago from island fever but I saw no reason to correct the registry.”
“Does it not foster … discontent … amongst the members of your crew?”
“My crew has seen me standing alongside them in battle, burned and bleeding, feeding shot into the smoking mouth of a cannon. They have seen me in the rigging setting sails in gale force winds. And they have seen me carve a wandering eye out of its socket and stuff it down the offending bastard’s throat.
Thus, to answer your question: no, my presence on board my ship does not foster discontent.
I pay them well and treat them with respect. ”
Lafitte drew a deep breath and blew a stream of rum-soaked breath across the table to interrupt the conversation. “I confess I am intrigued, but exactly what kind of arrangement have you come to propose, my dear? I already have a wife. And a mistress.”
“And I have neither the time nor inclination for such fuckery. I wish to propose a business arrangement, Captain. My Cygnet is a strong, bold vessel; her crew is second to none. With the British prowling the open water like vultures, it seems the wiser choice to be part of a wolf pack rather than running alone and howling at the moon.”
“I see. And what of your brother, the governor? Or your father? Do they support your wolfpack aspirations?”
There was the slightest hesitation before she answered.
“My brother Ramsey and I share very different opinions of the war between England and America. He was an officer in the Royal Navy for nearly a decade and sailed under Admiral Nelson before being appointed governor, thus it should come as no surprise that his loyalties lie with the Crown. In truth, he might still be sailing under the Union Jack had he not lost half his leg at Trafalgar.”
“I gather he would not be pleased to know you were here?”
“He is not often pleased with me, so this should hardly warrant another spin of the whirl-a-gig.”
“And your father? In which direction do his loyalties lean?”
“They lean toward freedom of choice, Captain, whether it be a country or a person making that choice. He does have a shipping company to run, however, and because he shares his time equally between London and the islands, he leans toward caution.”
Lafitte chased a drop of moisture down the side of his tankard with his thumb. “I should not like to get on the wrong side of Alexander St. Clare.”
“Nor would I, Captain. But as I said, he supports freedom of choice. Both my brother’s and mine.”
“Even so, would he not be risking a great deal regarding the future of his company if his name is associated with acts of piracy?”
Rose smiled. “Our family name has been associated with piracy since the days my ancestors sailed with Francis Drake. Putting family histories aside, however, I have kept my husband’s name for that very reason.
Thus, I have come in good faith to offer up the Hyperion and the cargo she carries, as well as the skills of one of the finest ships and crews in the West Indies. ”
Lafitte’s dark eyes held hers for a full thirty seconds before his gaze strayed lower, to the shape of her bosoms where they were defined by the exquisitely brocaded corset-waistcoat.
Then he leaned back and laughed.
He laughed so long and so loudly that patrons in the tavern went silent for the second time, as shadowy faces turned to stare.
“I applaud your boldness, my dear. But a female captain in my fleet? In the brotherhood? Have you come to Barataria to make me a laughingstock?”
Rose felt her neck prickling as a flush heated her cheeks. “I have come, Captain Lafitte, because if there is going to be a fight to defend New Orleans against the British, I want to be part of it.”
“What leads you to believe there will be a fight for New Orleans?”
“Are you telling me you do not think there will be? That the British will not attack New Orleans in order to take command of the Mississippi?”
“The city council feels the city is safe.”
“The city council is wrong.”
When he said nothing, Rose reached to an inside pocket of her coat and produced a thin sheaf of folded papers.
“These documents were on board the Hyperion .
They give details of a British expedition force comprised of ten ships carrying twenty thousand troops under the command of an Irish Admiral named Nicolls.
They are reported to be en route from the Azores to Florida with orders to land at Pensacola and from there to make preparations for the invasion of New Orleans. "
Lafitte shook his head and sighed. "Mam'selle, there have been rumors of such an invasion fleet for the past three months."
"Have these rumors carried with them the news that Washington City has been sacked?"
Lafitte's smile faded and his expression hardened. "Sacked? When? How?"
She slid the documents across the table.
"The full details are written here, but I can tell you as much as I know. The British landed in Maryland and overwhelmed the American militia. They marched to Washington City and set fire to the government buildings, including the President’s House, which was burned to the ground.
Fearing what else might fall into enemy hands, the American forces destroyed the naval yard and ammunition stores and then retreated, leaving the rest of the city undefended. "
Lafitte snatched the papers and tipped them toward the light to read.
" Fools! I have been warning President Madison for months that the embargo is not just there to disrupt trade, the blockade is there to keep American naval ships hobbled in port. The Crown’s goal is to avenge the loss they suffered in 1776 and take America back into the Empire. ”
“Louisiana is the soft underbelly of this country,” Rose said. “If the British attack in force, and if they capture New Orleans, they will win the Mississippi. They will be able to move their armies straight up into the interior and crush the rebellion from both sides, from land and sea.”
Lafitte slapped the papers down angrily. “I have sent letters to the president, to every general with the wits to see the danger of leaving the delta undefended. In return, I get platitudes. Worse, I get accused of piracy and profiteering and am harassed by warrants for my arrest!"
“Having said that, however,” Lafitte flexed his hands to calm himself, “and as much as I appreciate your offer, Rose St. Clare, this is not the time to bring any disruptions into my fleet … and not just because you are a female, though that would give more than a few of my men pause to contemplate my sanity. While your family, past and present, may have been broad-minded when it came to females standing before the mast, I’m afraid my brethren are a superstitious lot and regard a woman on board as bad luck.
If that were not enough to have them pinning my ears to the mast, my captains are a distrustful lot of bastards.
With your brother being who he is, they might well suspect you were hiding a British flag somewhere on your ship. ”
“I can assure you?—”
“As I said,” he held up a hand to cut her off.
“If there is truth in this news you bring, then this is not the time to bring discord amongst my captains. I will happily accept your gift of the Hyperion , but it is with profound apologies mam’selle, I must refuse your generous offer of joining my league of privateers. ”
“I was not giving you the Hyperion as a gift. I captured her; she is mine. I was bringing her with me, should you accept my ship into your fleet.”
“Which I have already explained is not possible at this time. It would be equally not possible for you to sail out of Barataria unscathed should I decide to take both of your ships. Thus, you would be wise to leave while I am still in a generous enough mood to respect your family name and permit you to sail back to Tobago with your Cygnet .”
The chair fell back and crashed to the floor as Rose surged to her feet.
Her eyes were blazing, her jaw rigid, and her hand instinctively curled around the grip of one of the pistols tucked into her belt.
Before she had even thought the action through or considered the lunacy of drawing a gun on Jean Lafitte, she felt the barrel of a pistol press into the side of her neck.
“I would not advise it if I were you.”
The voice was as cold and hard as the steel against her throat. For the span of two … five … ten heartbeats she did nothing, but then slowly, her fingers uncurled, and her hand fell away. An arm, clad in black, reached around and withdrew both pistols from her belt.
Lafitte, if anything, was merely amused.
“If you have taken offense at my refusal, perhaps we should ask Captain Fonteyne, here, how he would respond to a request for you to join his fleet of ships.” The cold black eyes looked up at Fonteyne.
“Sebastien? What say you? Am I being unfair to deny this sweet little girl her request? Would you be willing to have her on board your ship?”
“That depends on how truly sweet she is,” came the husky rejoinder in her ear.
“Alas, she claims to need no more warmth in her bed.”
“A pity,” Fonteyne murmured, stroking the barrel of the gun along the curve of her neck. “But to answer your question, the only way a woman joins my fleet is if she becomes captain of my ship… and that would only happen over my dead, worm-ridden body.”
Lafitte smiled at Rose and spread his hands through a shrug. “There you have it, my dear. And now, Sebastien, perhaps you will oblige me by escorting the young lady to the door and see that she safely gets back to her ship?”
"I’m quite capable of managing on my own, Captain Lafitte," she said through her teeth. “But I thank you for your cavalier concern.”
"Tut tut. It must be nearing midnight, well past the hour for a decent woman to be walking alone. Especially here on the riverfront. Barataria is full of unsavory types."
He turned and started talking Cajun French to Sauvinet, taking up the conversation they’d been having before Rose interrupted.
She felt strong fingers grip her elbow as Fonteyne drew her away from the table.
She shrugged her arm free after a few steps, her feathers bouncing and her boot heels clacking sharply on the clapboard floor as he led her through the warren of tables to the door.
Outside in the damp night air, she jerked on a pair of soft leather gloves. “Is that little blacksmith-turned-pirate always such an arrogant bastard?”
Fonteyne tucked his pistol into his belt and glanced sidelong at her. “I thought he was being rather polite. He isn’t usually so forgiving when someone intrudes on his business conversations.”
“Nor am I,” she said and started walking.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3 (Reading here)
- Page 4
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