The Pirate's Duty (Regent's Revenge #3)(6)
“You forget, I have met Pickering.”
“Ah yes! So you have. Your sister’s wedding was on board this very ship!” James laughed. “Keane told us.”
“My sister’s wedding was no laughing matter, sir,” Walsingham snapped.
“You misunderstand, Captain. As it happens, we enlisted Pickering to marry our sister to the very same naval officer she lost the Black Belle to. Had to get her sauced first.” He snickered again. “You should have seen Captain Guffald’s face when she vomited all over his shiny boots after the vows were exchanged.”
Pye burst out laughing, but Walsingham just stared at them, aghast.
“What?” James shrugged. “We all have our crosses to bear.”
Walsingham nodded and reached for James’s hand. “All right, then. You can expect us to arrive as soon as your brother gives the word that our refurbishments are done.”
James grasped his hand and shook it, producing a lopsided grin. “I’ll spread the word.” He paused for a moment. “I do want it to be known that I spent quite a few years wondering if my brother Garrick and sister Adele were the only ones who were going to have any fun.” He offered a bow, moved to the door, and turned back to Walsingham. “We’ll be ready for your arrival, Captain. You can count on it.”
“I do,” Walsingham said with a nod. When the door closed, he turned to his first mate. “Pye?”
Pye rose. “Aye, sir.”
“Bring Keane to me. I want to know when we’ll be ready to sail.”
Pye rose from his chair quickly in spite of his infirmity. The sound of his staccato gait filled the room until the door closed once more, leaving Walsingham alone in his quarters.
He picked up Chloe’s letter. He didn’t have to read her script; he knew the letter by heart. The words were emblazoned on his soul, but he read them again anyway:
Dearest brother,
I write to you in earnest. You cannot understand how distressing it is to know that dreadful man, Captain Carnage, is still at large. While I am enormously grateful to you for taking my husband’s place and tirelessly searching for the smuggler to put an end to his ruthlessness, I feel I must remind you of your duty to another I put in your care. No one understands more than I do how torn you must be; however, Underwood and I are in agreement. We fear for the plight of Miss Thorpe. I daresay, if he could, Carnage would cut her down out of spite that defies all logic.
I beseech you, Brother. Go to Miss Thorpe. Tell her who you are. Tell her that I sent you. I am all hope that my letter convinces you to honor the promise you made me. For in this, I am equally bound. You have never failed me before and I am confident you never will.
Your dutiful and loving sister,
Chloe
Death and danger were far from new. He’d faced formidable enemies within naval ranks, as well as in the Board of Excise. He had striven to rise above the standard and mete out a fair hand; the men that had followed him knew this. As such, they’d eagerly agreed to protect England’s shores from illegal activity, in particular from men like Carnage, who reveled in blood and gore. But Carnage had outwitted them time and time again, destroying the Windraker and committing the greatest sin of all—taking Walsingham’s sister hostage and threatening to rape her in an attempt to get revenge on the Black Regent.
He was only alive today thanks to Underwood, who’d chosen to rescue the Windraker’s surviving crew, including Walsingham himself. He also owed Miss Thorpe a debt of gratitude for taking a stand against her brother to save Chloe.
He crumpled up the letter, thinking of his sister as Carnage’s captive—her nerves shaken, her clothes torn, her body bloodied and bruised. Of her maid’s injuries, as well as the trauma Miss Thorpe had undergone when Carnage had tried to put an end to her interference.
“Mark my words,” Walsingham declared, “I will not underestimate Carnage again.”
Two
Where is the BLACK REGENT? The WINDRAKER and the VIPER were DESTROYED between LOOE and TALLAND BAY. CAPTAIN CARNAGE has NOT been seen since and SUSPECTED to be at large. CIVILIAN ships have been ATTACKED by unknown PIRATES in the ENGLISH CHANNEL. These OFFICES have learned that Lord B and Lord U also believe CAPTAIN CARNAGE is to BLAME.
~ Trewman’s Exeter Flying Post, 22 September 1809
Oriana thumped a cork into a jug filled with small ale—a pale, malty beer many people drank as a substitute for water—and glanced up from the bar.
“A droll! A droll! Give us a droll!” her customers shouted.
Laughter and applause for Old Bailey, a well-known Cornish storyteller, filled the inn. Oh, she’d earn a healthy profit this night. Storytelling took talent, an excellent memory, and quick wit, especially when it came to the Cornish people, who lived their lives enamored by the old ways. Having walked the length and width of Cornwall several times in his travels, Old Bailey had seen and heard a thousand lifetimes’ worth of stories, and people clamored to hear them retold.
Her skin prickled with triumph and expectancy, making her keenly aware of everything that was happening inside the inn.
Several months had passed since Charles had captured Lady Chloe and Jane in an attempt to trap the Black Regent. She owed a great deal of thanks to Girard and O’Malley, not only for their protection and teachings but because they were carpenters and had rebuilt the tables, chairs, and barstools, in addition to restoring the inn. The interior now danced to life in candlelight and shadow as the crowd quieted and every ear turned toward Old Bailey, who was holding court like a king of old Cornwall with his apprentice, Samuel Toak.