Surrender of a Siren (The Wanton Dairymaid Trilogy #2)(107)

“No.” Fitzhugh’s mouth thinned to a line. “Not that it’s of any relevance, but I am certain we have never been introduced, Mr. Grayson.”

“Not a member of White’s then? Pity. Well, I must be mistaking you for someone else.” He watched a flush seep out from beneath Fitzhugh’s wig.

“At any rate, I’ve been friendly with every judge to pass through this post in recent years, and I see no reason you should be different. I trust we may speak as gentlemen, seeing as how this is an informal proceeding.”

“Actually, this—”

“I do understand your predicament, Mr. Fitzhugh. A great deal of wealth changed hands in this courtroom once. Plenty of excitement, during the war. A judge could build a reputation on it, not to mention a fortune. But now… what sort of matters come before you? Insurance claims? Difficult to distinguish yourself with those cases. Your superiors are likely to forget about you completely. You may find yourself in this post for the remainder of your days.” He chuckled at Fitzhugh’s chagrined expression. “Oh, don’t despair. With luck, a fever will take you before you die of boredom.”

Laughter rippled through the courtroom. The judge rapped his gavel until the assembly hushed. “Mr. Grayson. You stand before this court accused of piracy, a hanging offense. You will refrain from making speeches and allow me to pose the questions.”

“If I’m to be hanged, where’s the benefit in decorum?” When the next wave of laughter faded, Gray lowered his voice and approached the bench. Contempt glimmered in the judge’s eyes. Good. He’d be only too eager to see Gray dead. “I know what you want, Fitzhugh. I’ll give it to you. I’m prepared to plead guilty to all your charges. You can build your career on my grave, claim your promotion, and return to England. I still doubt they’d allow you in White’s. But the questions, and the charges, begin and end with me. Do we understand each other?”

“You’ll plead guilty. To piracy.”

Gray nodded. “I’ll put on a show if you like, to make things interesting. In the end, you’ll have your hanging. But only one. Once I’ve admitted fault, you’ll call an end to this ‘informal proceeding,’ and everyone else in the room walks free.”

Fitzhugh smiled. “Very well.”

“I want your word. And if you cross me, by God I swear I’ll hunt you down in hell.”

“You have my word. Do I have yours?”

Gray gave him an easy grin. “My word as a gentleman.” He stepped back from the bench and addressed the courtroom. “Everything Captain Mallory testified is the truth.”

An outcry rose up among the men. Fitzhugh banged his gavel to no avail, until Gray motioned for silence.

It took great effort to ignore the look of betrayal in Joss’s eyes. But ignore it he did.

“I hailed the Kestrel as a friendly vessel. I boarded the ship without permission. I took command of her crew. I shot her mast down with a cannon. And I destroyed a large part of her cargo.” Gray ticked off the facts on his fingers. “All truths. If those actions make me a pirate, then I’m a pirate.” Gray spoke over a chorus of objections. “And neither I, nor the honorable Mr. Fitzhugh”—he swept the room with a meaningful glare—“care to hear any argument to the contrary. Do you follow me?”

He looked his men in the eye—O’Shea, Quinn, Levi, Stubb, and all the others, right down to Davy—until they absorbed his meaning and the obedience he demanded. He kept his jaw firm, shoulders squared, gaze unwavering. Not even a blink. The bravado came to him easily enough, when the actual dying was weeks away. There would be time enough later for trembling. Then he would be alone.

He turned back to face the bench. “Now then, Mr. Fitzhugh, you have your pirate. Do you suppose we can conclude these proceedings?”

“Yes, well …” Fitzhugh coughed. “In light of your testimony, Mr. Grayson, which is supported not only by Captain Mallory’s account but by that of your own first mate, Mr. Brackett, I find sufficient cause to hold you on a charge of piracy, a crime against the Crown. Arrangements will be made for your trial.”

The room was silent, save for the cackling laughter of Mallory. “Grayson, I

’m going to dance on the day that you swing.”

“If he swings, I swing with him.” Joss rose to his feet.

Gray drilled his brother with a glare. “Joss, no.” Sit down, damn you.Think of our sister. Think of your son.

“I’m the captain of the Aphrodite.” Joss’s voice rang through the courtroom. “I’m responsible for the actions of her passengers and crew. If my brother is a pirate, then I’m a pirate, too.”

Gray’s heart sank. They would both die now, he and his idiot of a brother. Joss walked to the center of the courtroom, the brass buttons of his captain’s coat gleaming as he strode through a shaft of sunlight. “But I demand a full trial. I will be heard, and evidence will be examined. Logbooks, the condition of the ships, the statements of my crew. If you mean to hang my brother, you’ll have to find cause to hang me.”

Fitzhugh’s eyebrows rose to his wig. “Gladly.”

“And me.”

Gray groaned at the sound of that voice. He didn’t even have to look to know that Davy Linnet was on his feet. Brave, stupid fool of a boy.