Surrender of a Siren (The Wanton Dairymaid Trilogy #2)(101)

“Two days.”

“The guards give you that?” Gray gestured toward his own eye. Joss shrugged.

Gray released a string of oaths. “Which one was it? He’ll pay for it with his life, I swear to you.”

“Settle down, Gray. And for God’s sake, don’t go punching yourself in the eye just to even the score.”

Gray shot him a look. “Not amusing, Joss.”

“Oh yes, it is. Give me credit for a joke when I make one. It’s nothing, Gray. I’ve had worse. You’ve given me worse. And it’s no more than a man can expect, I suppose, when he’s an alleged pirate.”

“Piracy charges.” Gray cracked his neck. “What a joke.” This was the voyage he’d finally gone respectable, and what had it gotten him? Jilted and jailed. No good deed went unpunished.

A few hours later, the guard sauntered back down the corridor. “You’ve a visitor, gentlemen. A lovely miss.”

An irrational surge of hope rose up in Gray’s breast. She came back, some fool voice whispered. She wouldn’t leave you.

Light footfalls sounded on the stone floor, and a figure emerged from the darkness. Of course. It was Bel.

“Joss. Dolly.”

She clung to the bars, and the two of them joined her from the other side.

“How’s Jacob?” Joss’s voice was tight. “How’s my son?”

“He’s fine, Joss. A bit taller than he was when you saw him last, and twice as mischievous. A Grayson man, through and through. He’s been asking for his papa.” She sniffed back tears.

“I’ve spoken with my friend, Mr. Wilson,” Bel continued. “You’ll remember him, Joss. He’s the one who used to be a solicitor in London, before he devoted his life to charity.” Her gaze flitted toward the guard and she lowered her voice. “He’s made some inquiries. He says … He says your situation doesn’t look good.”

“What does that mean?” Joss asked. “Surely once the judge has the story from Gray, he’ll not press any charges.”

“That’s just the problem,” Bel said. “It’s Mallory’s word against Gray’s.”

“And mine,” Joss said. “And every crewman’s aboard the Aphrodite and the Kestrel.”

“Not every crewman. There’s someone … an officer who just arrived today, who’s taking Mallory’s side.”

“Brackett.” Gray released a groan. “The bastard.”

“And the other crewmen, Mr. Wilson says their testimony could be too easily disregarded, since they might face charges themselves.”

“What sort of charges could they face?” Joss asked.

“Piracy, for the crew of the Aphrodite. Mutiny, for the Kestrel’s men.”

Gray swore under his breath. No, their situation did not look good. “So we bribe the judge. Every man has his price.”

“We can’t.” Bel shook her head.

“Bel, this is no time for scruples. This is hanging we’re discussing.”

“I mean it won’t work,” she continued. “Mr. Wilson knows something of this Mr. Fitzhugh. He’s ambitious, Mr. Wilson says, eager to make a name for himself and obtain a better post. That’s why he’ll press charges on such slender evidence. He means to make an example of Gray.”

Joss turned to Gray. “Why would he make an example of you?”

Gray clenched his jaw. He knew precisely why. “Not all privateers stopped seizing ships with the end of the war. Some of them kept right on plundering, even without letters of marque. They’re pirates now, with no allegiance to the Crown. It’s a problem for honest merchants. Like me,” he added ironically.

Understanding lit his brother’s eyes. “And the best way to discourage privateers from turning pirate …”

“Is to capture the most successful privateer of them all. And hang him.”

Gray turned and paced away from the door. “This Fitzhugh plans to make his career on my neck. Goddamn it.”

“Dolly, please don’t curse.” Bel’s voice cracked as she spoke. “We need God on our side now.”

“Seems no one else is,” Joss added.

“There’s to be a sort of hearing tomorrow,” Bel said. “The judge will hear testimony and decide whether he has sufficient evidence to convene a court of piracy.”

“A court of piracy?” Joss repeated.

“Yes,” Gray said, “in order to charge us, he has to summon representatives of the governor, all the way from Antigua. It’s no small undertaking. He won’t go to the trouble if he’s not certain we’ll hang.”

“I see,” Joss said. “It would seem much hinges on tomorrow.”

“Everything hinges on tomorrow.” If he didn’t walk free tomorrow, she’d be too far away. He might truly lose her. Damn.

Bel reached for his hand through the bars. Gray accepted the comfort of her small, chilled fingers wrapped around his own.

“Mr. Wilson will try to intercede for you,” she said. “The rest of us will pray.”

Gray squeezed her fingers. “You do that.” If Bel prayed, God might actually listen. “What of Miss Turner?” The question was out before Gray could stop it.