Care and Feeding of Pirates (25 page)

"He wants to board," St. Cyr said. "And meet
with you."

Not surprising. Ardmore would want to
confront Christopher face to face.

"Tell him he may come over," he said. "But
only if he brings his wife."

St. Cyr looked at him, deadpan. "Do we have
the flags for that?"

"Have a messenger row over and bring them
back."

St. Cyr nodded, turned, and gave orders to
the tense, waiting crew.

"Begging your pardon, sir," Colby drawled,
flexing his large hands. "But aren't we going to fight him?"

Christopher looked at Honoria. The dying sun
caught highlights in her sable-black hair and whipped her thin
dress around her deliciously shapely limbs.

"No," he answered Colby, still looking at
Honoria. "We are not. We're going to give Ardmore exactly what he's
come for."

*****

Chapter Nineteen

"I'll not go back with him, Christopher."

Honoria spoke quietly, but her eyes were full
of fire. Christopher fixed part of his attention on her and part on
the tiny sparks of light that moved toward them, lanterns on the
gig that brought Ardmore and his wife to the
Starcross
.

Honoria obviously wanted to argue, but
Christopher was not in the mood. "I'm giving you the choice."

"I see." She could make those two words so
very full of meaning.

Her lips were pale pink in the half dark.
Christopher could not help but lean down and press a kiss to
them.

Honoria's mouth moved with the kiss, her
desire never far away. Christopher might claim he left the choice
to her, but his heart didn't want him to. Honoria might decide that
returning to her house in Charleston, to baths scented with
rosewater and servants bringing her things on trays, was best for
her. Christopher needed to make her see that it wasn't.

The small boat bumped the ship. Christopher
continued kissing Honoria, making certain Ardmore saw them.

The
Starcross
had a shallow stair
built right into its hull, and the gig tied up next to it.
Christopher had ordered a harness made ready to lift Mrs. Ardmore
aboard, but she climbed after her husband, hands confident on the
ropes.

Ardmore had brought with him another officer,
the small Irishman called Ian O'Malley. He also brought a barrel of
water, which was hoisted aboard, the wood enticingly wet.

"Heard you'd run short," Ardmore said.

Christopher looked into eyes as cool as
Honoria's. Brother and sister resembled each other, both with
midnight black hair and ice-green eyes. They also shared the
arrogant lift of the head and the faint sardonic observation
beneath a polite Southern drawl.

"We were becalmed longer than I anticipated,"
Christopher replied. He made a brief bow to Diana. "Mrs. Ardmore.
Pleased to see you again."

Diana nodded in return, her fine eyes
revealing nothing.

The deck of the
Starcross
was crowded,
the masts, rigging, and windlasses taking most of the space.
Christopher and Ardmore stood close together on the only open
space, while Diana was separated from them by an open hatch.
Honoria had moved all the way to the stern, behind the wheel.

Ardmore shifted his gaze to his sister then
back to Christopher. "I assume you invited Mrs. Ardmore to
accompany me so I wouldn't order my ship to open fire on you while
I was over here."

"Yes," Christopher said.

"What gives me the assurance you won't fire
on the
Argonaut?
"

"My word." Christopher flicked his gaze to
the distant ship. "I believe your son and stepdaughter are with
you, am I right?" He turned to Diana, who nodded reluctantly. "I
thought so. I'm not barbaric enough to shoot innocents."

"Kind of you," O'Malley broke in. "Though the
lass Isabeau isn't so innocent. She can climb halfway up to the
fighting top soon as your back is turned."

Diana looked slightly exasperated, and
Christopher allowed himself a brief smile.

"You know why I'm here," Ardmore said,
impatient. He looked again at Honoria, who returned the gaze with
identical belligerence.

Christopher made a conceding gesture. "If you
wish to speak to her, I have no objection."

"We've other things to talk about first,"
Ardmore said. "Do you want to go below, or discuss it in front of
your men?"

"I trust my crew," Christopher said. "But you
might be safer if we went below."

Ardmore gave him a nod. "I believe you.
Diana, stay here with Honoria."

"Not likely," Diana said. "I don't trust
either of you to keep things amicable, and I want to know what
transpires. Therefore, I am going below with you."

Ardmore frowned at her but didn't argue.
Christopher saw that he and Ardmore had one thing in common, at
least--wives who had trouble with the vow of obedience.

In the end, Manda, Diana, Henderson, St. Cyr,
and Honoria joined the two captains in the crowded chart room
around the bare table. Ardmore had brought a small cask of brandy
with him, and Henderson broached it and handed around cups.

The discussion that followed surprised no
one. Ardmore knew that Christopher was after the gold of the
Rosa Bonita
and had come to stop him. Christopher asked him
how he planned to do so.

"Sink you," Ardmore said. "I have room on the
Argonaut
for you and your crew. I'll take you to port and
let you go. It took you a long time to find and outfit this ship. I
imagine it will take you longer to acquire another."

Christopher studied the golden hue of the
brandy, which blended into the copper color of the cup. It was a
sin to drink brandy out of such a vessel, but Christopher hadn't
laid in the crystal. Honoria would try to remedy that, of course,
next port they reached.

"You'd have a fight," Christopher said. "My
men are itching for one. We'll not sit tamely and let you blow us
out of the water."

James leaned forward, his eyes dark in the
shadows. "I outgun you, I outman you, and you can't outrun me. The
Starcross
won't win a fight against the
Argonaut
."

Christopher shrugged, pretending that tension
wasn't crawling up and down his spine. "I've heard that American
privateer ships with fewer guns are prevailing against fully fitted
English frigates. The American vessels are smaller and faster, like
the
Starcross
."

"Yes," Ardmore said. "I am one of those
prevailing. You won't stand against me. You fight, I sink you. You
fight hard, and you'll have deaths on your hands."

Christopher took another sip of brandy and
set down the cup, noting that Ardmore hadn't yet touched his. "You
would be firing at a ship containing your own sister."

"I know. Are you prepared to let her die for
your Mexican gold?"

Christopher managed a smile. "You don't need
to use Honoria as a hostage for my good behavior. We'll send the
women and children out to sea before we fight."

"Or Honoria can return to the
Argonaut,
" James said. "It is her choice. She can return
with me, or stand by you while I sink you."

Honoria's voice lashed from the corner. "I'll
thank you not to talk about me as though I'm not here, James. Why
do you want that gold, anyway? What would you do with it?"

"Give it to the American navy. They need all
the help they can get."

"Very patriotic of you," Honoria said. "How
do you any of you know the gold is still there? It's been four
years. Some other pirate has no doubt stumbled upon it and snatched
it up."

"That is a risk," Christopher said, making a
conceding gesture.

"One you're willing to take," Ardmore
said.

"I have a much better idea, James," Honoria
said. "Why don't you go away? You're not wanted here. There have
been no acts of piracy committed since I've been on this ship, so
you have no need to be here. Go hunt pirates somewhere else."

Ardmore's voice went even quieter. "This
isn't a game, Honoria."

"Of course it is. You are men. You make
everything into a game. You are like cocks strutting around a
barnyard, competing to see who can crow the loudest."

Diana smiled. "The comparison is apt."

"Ladies," Ardmore began.

"No, James, you will not shut us out,"
Honoria said. "We have as much at stake as do you. I am staying
with Christopher. He is my husband. Sink us and be damned to
you."

St. Cyr looked pained. Henderson had not said
a word. Manda looked angry enough to shoot Ardmore then and there.
Good thing Manda rarely carried a pistol. She preferred knives.

"I'll do it, Honoria," Ardmore said. "Be
certain you're willing to die for him."

Honoria flicked her gaze to Christopher. "I
will stay with my husband. I took a vow. It means something to
me."

Ardmore slanted her an ironic look. "I
suppose by that remark you mean it means nothing to me. You've
always been wrong about that." He returned to Christopher. "If that
was the gauntlet thrown down, then so be it. You go after the gold,
and I'll sink you."

Christopher traced the rim of his cup. "And
if I tell you I have no intention of going after the gold, you'll
follow me anyway? To make certain?"

"Yes," Ardmore said.

"Seems like a lot of trouble for you and your
men."

Ardmore at last lifted his cup and sipped the
brandy. "You are forgetting something. I know where the gold is. If
you sail off to Charleston, pretending you don't want it, I'll
simply take the gold for myself."

Christopher let out a short laugh. "You know
approximately
where the gold is. That's a different thing
from knowing exactly."

"Then you can lead me to it." Ardmore took
another sip of brandy. "Or, I can sink your ship, take you
prisoner, and force you to tell me."

"You'll have a hell of a fight if you try,"
Manda said.

"That's fine," Ardmore said. "Your crew
aren't the only ones spoiling for a fight."

"Well, you'll have one, James," Honoria said
angrily.

Both Manda and Honoria looked as though they
wanted to crawl over the table and throttle Ardmore on the spot.
Henderson regarded his captain just as belligerently. Only St. Cyr
retained a neutral expression, sipping his brandy.

Christopher started to laugh. Low and
sounding of rumbling gravel, he let the laugh fill the cabin. Manda
and Honoria stared at him in amazement, and Ardmore sent him a hard
look.

"End game, Ardmore," Christopher said. "There
will be no fight, no sinking, no prisoners. If you want the damned
gold, you can have it. I'll lead you there, and you can take what
you like." Christopher stopped laughing, drained his cup, and
lifted it in salute to Ardmore. "In return, you leave Honoria with
me, go away, and stay the hell out of my life."

"Christopher," Honoria began.

Christopher ignored her. "I want my wife, my
freedom, my ship. Anything else, I don't care about. You get the
gold, I get my life."

Ardmore held out his hand to Christopher.
"Done," he said.

*** *** ***

"Christopher," Honoria said from where she
reclined on the bunk.

Her husband stopped in the act of unfastening
his shirt, tensing, his look growing watchful. "What?"

He'd not spoken to Honoria since the meeting
in the chart room hours ago. James, on the other hand, had demanded
time to speak with Honoria. He'd requested this of
Christopher
, if you please, not
her
. Honoria had flat
refused, and Christopher had shrugged, giving James a
What-can-you-do-with-a-stubborn-woman?
look.

Diana had been distressed about Honoria's
decision to remain aboard the
Starcross
, but Honoria had
taken Diana aside and explained her choice. Diana had not liked it,
but she'd understood and departed with James without further
argument.

Mr. Henderson had gone back to the
Argonaut
with James as well. James had paused as he'd
prepared to climb down into the gig after Diana, and informed
Henderson that he still had a job on the
Argonaut
if he
wanted it.

Honoria had thought for a moment that
Henderson would tell James to go to the devil, but in the end,
Henderson had nodded and climbed after him into the waiting boat.
Henderson had avoided looking at Manda, who'd remained stubbornly
at the tiller, refusing to watch them go.

Christopher interrupted Honoria's thoughts.
"What do you want to ask me, my wife?"

He slid his shirt from his body, and Honoria
lost herself in admiration a moment. "Do you love me?" she
asked.

Christopher laid his shirt carefully on the
chair. "You know the answer to that."

Honoria watched the sway of his wheat-blond
braid as he leaned to tug off his boots. The single lantern
shadowed the curve of his spine, the hollows at the small of his
back, and danced over the dragon on his collarbone.

Clad only in his breeches, Christopher sat
down on the bed. The quilts separated her from him, but his warmth
touched her through them. She ran her gaze from the dragon to the
scarred, silver-white flesh where unknown villains had scraped his
skin from his ribs.

"Perhaps I am asking the wrong question," she
said.

Christopher's gray eyes were watchful. "What
do you mean by that?"

"Why on earth did you agree to give James the
gold?"

His brows went up. "That's an abrupt change
of subject."

"Not really. Why did you?"

"Maybe because I don't give a damn about
it."

"But it's
gold
."

Christopher grinned. "Avaricious little
thing, aren't you? Did you hope I'd use it to buy you pretty
trinkets?"

"That is not what I meant. You struggled to
find it, you were forced to hide it, and you were arrested for
it."