Beautiful Tempest

  Hearing her brother’s voice was such a relief she had to wipe back a few tears. “I’m fine—but not alone. The captain’s here. You?”

  “Not bad a’tall.”

  “He was black and blue—”

  “Shut up, Percy,” Jeremy said, then to her: “The bruising is gone. I promise you I’ve had worse after a tavern brawl, and you know how many of those I’ve jumped into.”

  “But something broke?”

  Silence to that question, which had her holding her breath, then finally she asked the man who couldn’t keep a secret to save his soul, “Percy?”

  “I’ve kicked him away from the door,” Jeremy said, then in exasperation: “Hell’s bells, Jack, stop worrying about something so minor. I thought it might be worse, but I didn’t have trouble breathing, and now it doesn’t bother me to move anymore, so it was probably just a bruised rib that’s mended itself.” He added angrily, “And the captain lied. He said we’d get out on deck for exercise, but we haven’t gotten out even once.”

  She winced. “That might be because I’ve been let out.” She glared at Damon. “He doesn’t want us to talk privately.”

  “And time’s up.” Damon took her arm. “You three will see each other soon enough.”

  She’d heard the growls from the upper deck just as he must have, so she understood why her visit was so short. And she clearly heard someone yell, “Get out o’ the bleedin’ way, blighter, or yer going tumbling down—”

  The threat ended when Damon reached the top step and stood shoulder to shoulder with Mortimer, both with pistols drawn. The first mate had come to guard the top of the stairs to keep four of the pirates on Damon’s crew from going down them. The thugs had apparently tried to catch her alone down there with Damon. One shout from them could have brought the rest of the pirates running. . . . She blanched when she realized what could have happened. Yet Damon had risked it just to reassure her that Jeremy was okay? Why the deuce didn’t he just let Jeremy out to see her instead of taking her down there? But then she realized why. Because Jeremy, mended, was far more dangerous than four blustering thugs.

  Damon had tucked her behind his back as soon as they got up there, so she didn’t get a good look at the insistent pirates. But from earlier, she knew they were armed. The one wearing a green coat had four pistols tucked in his belt. Jackie had told her he called himself Bart Satin—no wonder he wouldn’t get rid of that atrocious satin coat. She’d seen him too often on the deck, as flamboyant as his brethren, but more malevolent in the way he looked at her, as if the lust he felt wasn’t the normal sort, but the deadly sort.

  “Missing the rum keg already?” Damon said sarcastically, and waved his arm to the stairs behind him. “By all means, get off my deck.”

  A couple of them backed off with feigned laughs, but one pirate took the offer and walked past them to get to the stairs. Jacqueline squeezed around Damon’s other side, putting herself between him and Mortimer, so the pirate couldn’t try to grab her and drag her down the stairs with him.

  Ironically, two weeks ago she would have cheered on the pirates if they’d tried to get rid of Damon. But that was before she’d been told they saw her as a prize for themselves. Before she knew Damon was protecting her. Before—fine, she could admit it—before she stopped wanting him dead.

  She needed her own weapons, damnit. Living each day with the threat of mutiny hanging over them was starting to wear on her nerves. She’d accepted his story readily because she was so delighted to be out in the sun again. But she was beginning to hope it was all a lie, a staged ploy to make her behave. Damon was a pirate, the thugs were pirates, it was logical to assume they were his crew, but he’d said they weren’t. Then why were they with him? And more to the point, why wouldn’t he explain to her why they were part of his crew?

  She leaned up on tiptoe to see over Damon’s and Mort’s shoulders why they weren’t moving on yet. Ah, Four Pistols was still standing there. Murderous Lust. Bart Satin. Any of those names suited him, but Damon had another when he said, “Once more the instigator, eh?”

  “Ye’ve no right keepin’ her to yerself—Cap’n.”

  Bart said the word “captain” as if it were a slur. And he wasn’t moving out of the way. Didn’t he know he was standing there alone now?

  “If one of your fingers so much as twitches toward your weapons, I will shoot mine,” Damon warned. “Please put it to the test. One less of you is fine with me, but having you gone will be even better. Do you think anyone will care, Mort?”

  “Bullies only think they’re leading the pack,” Mortimer replied. “No one will miss this one.”

  Bart had turned slightly toward the first mate as Mort was speaking, but it was enough for Damon to slam his pistol against Bart’s head before the pirate saw it coming. He collapsed at their feet.

  Mortimer said drily, “He would have backed down. A bully, yes, but a coward without the pack at his back.”

  “Don’t begrudge me.” Damon kicked the man down the stairs. “That was so long overdue, it should have been done before we even reached London. We both knew he was going to be nothing but trouble—and he wasn’t backing down soon enough.” Then Damon glanced at the other two pirates who were still slowly moving away from him and told them, “He’s not dead, more’s the pity, but next time he will be. Please relay that to him later.”

  They said nothing in return and their faces revealed nothing. They could be furious under those blank looks.

  But then Mortimer groaned. “I suppose this calls for plan B?”

  “For the time being,” Damon replied.

  Jacqueline merely raised a brow, waiting for an explanation, but when Mortimer said, “Bloody hell,” and grabbed her arm, she dug in her heels. She was about to yell at Damon’s back as he walked away, but Mortimer put his hand over her mouth so she couldn’t!

  Chapter Thirty

  WE’RE BEING HAILED,” CONRAD said, interrupting James’s lunch.

  James snorted. “Ignore them and have a seat. Your food is getting cold.”

  “You might want—”

  “And don’t steer any closer to them. I’m still hoarse from that shouted conversation I had with the barbarians yesterday. I’m not having another this soon.”

  “It’s not your brothers-in-law hailing us.”

  James raised a brow. “Then who?”

  “Come have a look.” Conrad headed back out of the cabin.

  James pushed his plate aside, grabbed his spyglass, and went out on the deck. He looked to starboard first, where the rest of his fleet were keeping up with him. The Amphitrite, Georgina’s ship, was the only one within hailing distance. He’d made sure her captain kept abreast of him. It kept Warren and Boyd from trying to converse with him in shouts across the water, but they’d managed it yesterday anyway.

  James joined Conrad at the rail on the port side and spotted the ship that had come into view behind them. “How do you know they’re hailing?”

  “They were flashing mirrors at us until they got our attention.”

  James trained his spyglass on the ship, which was still some distance away, but he could see there was no name, just an English flag flying from the topmast. No cannon, so it was probably a trader.

  “Nothing droll to say?” Conrad asked.

  James lowered the spyglass to the other ship’s deck and after a moment burst out laughing. “I suppose we can drop the sea anchor and turn about to let him reach us. You could have just told me, Connie, instead of letting me think the Americans were pestering me again.”

  “I could have.” Conrad grinned and sauntered off, whistling a jaunty tune.

  JAMES WAITED IMPATIENTLY BESIDE the ladder that was lowered. A good twenty minutes later, the new ship was beside his, a rowboat had been lowered from it, and he was helping his brother aboard. “So you changed your mind after all, Tony?” James was smiling.

  Anthony wasn’t. “No. Jack’s gone, Jeremy’s gone, even that dunderhead Percy is gone.”
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  A thunderous expression replaced James’s smile. “You thought I had them? I don’t. Jack was standing on the wharf with George when I sailed.” Then in a growl: “Come with me.”

  James returned to his cabin and headed straight for the brandy decanter to pour two glasses. He handed Anthony one. “What happened?”

  “You left,” Anthony said accusingly. “Everything goes to hell when you leave.”

  “The devil it does.”

  “It does and only a day after you sailed, too.”

  “Tony, if you don’t spit it out immediately—”

  “They were taken out to sea, James, all three of them kidnapped. We suspect it’s the same men who took Jack before—”

  “What did the ransom note say?”

  “I left before one was delivered. We felt the first priority was to let you know.”

  “Is your captain going back to London?”

  “Yes, and—”

  Anthony didn’t finish because James was already stepping out of his cabin, bellowing, “Connie!”

  It took only a few moments for the first mate to run up to the quarterdeck and guess, “You want me to toss him back over the side?”

  “As if you could. Tell his captain to return to London immediately and let George know that I’ll bring Jack, Jeremy, and Percy home. They’re out here somewhere—”

  “How the bloody hell did—?”

  “I’ll explain later. But I want all eyes watching for other ships, and find out if any have passed us this week. I may need to blast one out of the water.”

  James slammed the door shut before Conrad could delay him with more questions and, pinning his brother with a dark look, said, “Now that I’ve heard the end, start at the beginning. I need to know how this could happen again.”

  “I was going back to London with my ship,” Anthony said testily, having heard James’s orders.

  “Now you’re not, and this is not a good time to argue with me, Tony. If you haven’t noticed, I need to kill something.”

  “Can’t very well mistake that look—all right! It was evening, the second day after you sailed. George didn’t know Jack wasn’t in the house until she didn’t show up for dinner. Jack’s maid said she’d gone out with Jeremy and that she’d be home for dinner, but she wasn’t.”

  “Leaving without letting George know where and why doesn’t sound like my daughter. She’d at least leave a note so George wouldn’t worry.”

  “Even if she thought she’d be home before George noticed her absence?”

  “Did anyone look for a note from Jack?”

  “The house was searched from top to bottom, first thing. I even looked for the notes from her mysterious suitor who’d been sending her single roses that week in case she’d gone off to meet him. Found the roses in her room, but no sign of his notes.”

  “There was a fellow at that masked ball they dragged me to who annoyed me because he refused to introduce himself to any of us before he took Jack out to dance. If— I’m going to kill that bastard! Did you search her jewelry box for his notes?”

  “Of course.”

  “And the secret drawer at the bottom of it?”

  “What secret drawer?”

  James sighed. “Never mind. Jack wouldn’t leave a note for George in that, anyway, since George doesn’t even know about it.”

  “But you do?”

  “I gave her the box. She started collecting tiny rocks when she was six, ugly little things, but since they sparkled, she thought they were special and hid them all over the house. But the servants started finding them and throwing them away, which led to Jack having quite a few tantrums—bloody hell, never mind all that.”

  Anthony still rolled his eyes. “You gave your daughter a hiding place for rocks?”

  “It was a matter of diplomacy. The servants didn’t like it when she screamed at them. It’s too bad I never got around to mentioning it to George, since that drawer has a hidden latch in the back to release it. There could be something in that drawer that indicates what Jack was up to.”

  “Not just Jack. She had cohorts in Jeremy and Percy for whatever—”

  James cut in, “What did Henry or Artie say about it? They usually won’t let her out the door without finding out where she’s going.”

  “Except when she leaves with family, apparently. Your retired-pirate-turned-butler Artie had the door that day and figured she was fine since she did leave with Jeremy, but George was still worried and sent for me and our brothers and also sent a man off to Jeremy’s house. Danny showed up right after I got there to say Jeremy had left home with Percy, so we sent a man to Percy’s house. It was late by then and George was crying the whole bloody time, so Jason left to pull some strings and get me a fast ship to come after you. It was a good thing he was still in London to be able to do that. We figured you’d want to know about this as soon as possible.”

  “When exactly did you sail, Tony?”

  “Jason is an excellent string-puller. I was actually going to sail off that very night, well, at least that was the plan. But then Lady Alden arrived to say Percy had told her he was going to the docks for some exciting fun that night. The footman we sent to their house worried her when he told her Jack might be with Percy. She actually came to complain that Malorys were leading her boy astray again. George nearly kicked her back to the curb.”

  “So going to the docks was their idea? Bloody hell, they were looking for a ship to follow me, after I told them they couldn’t and why—”

  “No. I wish that’s all it was, but it’s not that a’tall. We know mostly what happened because Percy’s driver came knocking at the door a bit later after being told his lady was at your house. Jeremy, Percy, and Jack didn’t even go to the docks, just near them. They drove to the mostly deserted Wapping Street, which runs along the river. They went there to set a trap for someone, but that’s all Percy told his driver. However, that ‘someone’ had set a better trap for them. The driver ran away as soon as the fighting started, and by the time he found a tree to hide behind and he could safely look back, the fight was over due to their opponents’ far, far greater numbers, and Percy, Jack, and Jeremy were already being carried to two longboats that took them out to one of the ships anchored in the river. Dozens of the ruffians that had appeared out of nowhere to spring that trap stayed behind to load Percy and Jack’s men in the coaches left there and drove off with them. And the ship sailed off. The driver stayed long enough to see that before he found his way home to tell his lady what happened.”

  “So you don’t have the ransom note?”

  “No, I waited two days for it to be delivered to your residence, but nothing arrived. Jason decided you needed to be warned about this before you got to the Caribbean so I sailed. He promised to get another ship and send it to St. Kitts with the note as soon as they receive it. So we can wait for it there—or find your children first. I thought I’d spot your fleet long before now, but we had to do a lot of zigzagging to make sure we didn’t sail past you without seeing you a’tall.”

  “Which begs the question, did you pass any other ships heading this way?”

  “No, and believe me, we were looking. I hoped I would find them first, play the hero, get them home before you even knew Jack was gone, though I’m not sure how I could have captured them with an unarmed merchantman.”

  “It’s called ramming and it works fairly well.”

  “I suppose my captain would have suggested that if we’d found them first. I confess I do want to get my hands on Bastard, if it is Bastard this time. I know we’ve all assumed it is, but what d’you think?”

  “It sounds like it, but that doesn’t make it a certainty. Bloody hell, I wish you’d waited for the note so I wouldn’t need to assume.” James suddenly sighed. “But Jason was right to send you ahead. It’s far better to know what’s happened, so don’t doubt that I’m glad you’re here.”

  “There’s no place I’d rather be at a time like this than standing by your
side, Brother.” Anthony’s tone was darkly serious. “I want to catch those blackguards as much as you do. We will, never doubt it.”

  “I know, but it’s going to be hell in the meantime.”

  Anthony nodded in agreement. “Then I’ll do my best to distract you. I actually thought I’d already be here, you know. When you got me foxed the night before you sailed, I was sure you were going to shanghai me. Ros even thought so and had a bag packed for me.”

  “She did suggest it to me. She was worried that you would be miserable with me gone as well as Judy off on her wedding trip.”

  “So why didn’t you?”

  “Because this trip was—will take more’n a couple months, while Judith will be back from her trip long before then. You would have been climbing the bloody walls if you weren’t there to be assured she’s still happy when she gets back.”

  “Oh, but now it’s okay for me to climb walls? Actually—” Anthony bolted out of the cabin, but stopped in his tracks when he saw the ship he’d arrived on was no longer next to The Maiden George. It had tacked to the east to circle around for the return to London and was already far away.

  “Suck it up, dear boy,” James, beside him, said. “You just claimed to want a piece of Bastard. You won’t get it unless you stay with me. And your daughter was in love. You know very well she’s going to come home just as happy as she was when she left on her trip.”

  Anthony elbowed James. “I was joking, old man. Told you I’d be a distraction for you. Did it work?”

  James snorted. “Yes.”

  “But once we have the younguns back, you can remind me that my baby returned home as happy as she was on her wedding day.”

  James didn’t agree to that; he mentioned instead, “I still have that boxing ring in the hold that Nathan built me.”

  “An excellent—” After a glance at James, Anthony amended, “Actually, if you don’t mind, I’ll wait until you stop looking like you need to murder someone.”

  James sighed. “All right, but only because Ros expects me to bring you home.”