Care and Feeding of Pirates (27 page)

More laughter. A few mimed patting curled
hair, another scrubbing himself all over with a brush.

"Get back to work," Christopher called to
them, but he did not sound angry.

The first party went ashore in three small
rowboats, two from the
Argonaut
and one from the
Starcross
. Christopher did not allow Honoria in the first
landing, preferring, he said, to ensure that everything was safe
before he sent for her.

"Pirates or smugglers might have set up camp
here," he said. "We haven't seen any smoke, but the island has
hidden valleys. And anyone ashore can clearly see our
approach."

James brought Diana over to the
Starcross
to wait with Honoria for their signal that it was
safe for the ladies to come ashore.

Diana fumed as James and the others rowed
away in the gig. Honoria had thought Christopher's plan sensible,
although she admitted a burning curiosity as to what they'd find.
But she'd realized that, if hostile pirates or smugglers had taken
up residence on the island, it was best to let Christopher and
James deal with them first.

She said as much to Diana. Diana hung over
the rail by Honoria's side, her red hair loosened by the wind.

"Oh, yes," Diana said. "Perfectly sensible.
But they get all the fun of it, don't they? By the time we reach
the island, it will be crowded with sailors and we'll be confined
to the safe part of the beach. And what if they meet
friendly
smugglers, who greet them with a huge barrel of
rum? We shouldn't see them for a day or so in that case, and they
certainly will be in no condition to remember to send for us."

Honoria laughed. "That is a bit farfetched,
Diana."

"Not really," Diana said darkly. "A band of
pirates once tried to befriend James by offering him rum and a
share of their take, as well as other . . . female . . .
enticements."

Honoria raised her brows and spoke in her
best Southern lady tones. "I'm certain their bribes only made James
that much more determined to arrest them. And do not worry about
female enticements. James is in love with you, and you alone, that
much I am certain."

As angry as her brother made her, Honoria
plainly saw that James had devoted himself entirely to Diana. It
was touching how much he loved her.

Honoria turned back to the green expanse of
island and did not voice her other thought,
What about
Christopher?
He was a charming rogue, and Honoria was not naïve
enough to think herself the only woman he'd ever had in his
life.

She'd not seen him for nine long years
between their first meeting and their second, and then after their
marriage and his supposed hanging, he'd disappeared for four years
to lands far away. What he'd done during those intervals, she could
not imagine, and she did not really want to know.

Not really. Did she?

She bit her lip, craning to see the dwindling
shapes of the boats as they glided into the cove.

*** *** ***

Christopher found the island pleasingly
deserted. It had no name, lay off the main shipping routes, and
boasted little but the fresh water that fell from cliff tops to
gushing pools. The trees here were not strong enough for masts, and
the tiny harbor offered little protection from storms.

He knew that pirates and other travelers
rested here from time to time and replenished their water stores,
but he and Manda found no sign that any had set up more than very
brief habitation in some time.

Ardmore strode by Christopher's side as
Christopher led him, Manda, and O'Malley up the path that would
take them to where he'd hidden the gold. Every so often Ardmore
would crane his neck to look up at the cliffs, then glance behind
him in case Christopher's men, who'd remained below, tried any
treachery.

The summer day was fine and hot. Humid air
pressed them under the jungle-like trees and sweat trickled freely
down Christopher's back. Ardmore wore a coat and no shirt beneath,
and his skin shone with perspiration.

The path began to climb, the faint trail
badly overgrown. Thick vegetation, swarms of insect life that had
to be batted away, and the sticky heat served to confuse direction
even further.

Manda and O'Malley led the little party,
cutting the path, the two captains climbing behind them. Henderson,
whom Ardmore had brought ashore in his first boatload, had remained
below on the beach. Wise, Christopher thought. Manda had a
knife.

"You see what I mean," Christopher said,
panting as they climbed. "Knowing approximately where the gold is
doesn't mean knowing exactly."

"And you remember after four years?" Ardmore
asked.

"I think so. But even if I don't remember,
you've won."

"Not if we don't find that gold. Or evidence
that someone else made off with it. I wouldn't put it past you to
lead me false, then wait until I'm gone and suddenly stumble across
it."

Christopher drew his sleeve across his
sweating forehead. "That wouldn't happen. You'd ambush me or follow
me to make sure."

Ardmore gave him a curt nod. "That's
right."

"No man will ever accuse you of not being
thorough, Ardmore."

Ardmore paused, allowing O'Malley and Manda
to surge ahead. Christopher slowed with him.

"It's interesting," Ardmore said in his
careful Southern drawl, "how willing you are to lead me to this
treasure."

Christopher shrugged. "The gold's probably
gone. It's been four years."

The canopy of leaves shadowed the two men
like a dark green cave. Ahead, the sound of O'Malley's and Manda's
voices and the ring of their knives grew fainter.

Ardmore's eyes narrowed. "So you'll give me
the Mexican gold if I leave you and Honoria alone?"

"Maybe you don't believe Honoria is worth a
shipload of gold. But I do."

"Romantic of you."

"Honoria said much the same thing. But think
about this, Ardmore. Would your own wife be worth it?"

Ardmore stopped. He was a man who could go
utterly still, and under the trees, the breeze did not even touch
the strands of his hair.

Christopher had not missed the way Ardmore
looked at the beautiful, red-haired Diana. The occasions when
Christopher had met Ardmore before, first as a colleague, then as
an enemy, Ardmore had cared for nothing and no one. That had
changed, Christopher could see.

From what Christopher knew about the man,
Ardmore had been captured by pirates at a young age, and then
turned pirate himself. Whatever had happened to him on that pirate
vessel had scarred him inside, forever. He'd become a pirate hunter
after his brother's wife had been killed, joining his brother Paul
in his never-ending quest for vengeance.

Now the ice had thawed. James Ardmore, the
feared pirate hunter, cared for something more than his fanatic
pursuit of revenge.

"Yes," Ardmore said, words clipped. "Diana
would be worth it."

Christopher waved away a fly who thought his
sweat was just what it needed. "And Honoria is worth it to me."

"You love her?" Ardmore said, still
dubious.

"Yes," Christopher said. "Don't you?"

Ardmore gave him a long look. For a time the
two men studied each other, green eyes looking into cool gray,
neither yielding.

At last Ardmore turned and resumed
climbing.

By late afternoon, the climbers reached a
break in the trees. They stood on a cliff, which was a jut of rock
that ran back into a deep crevice. Insects droned around them, and
birds and unseen reptiles rustled in the brush.

Looking down to his left, Christopher could
see the cove far below and the glittering water of open sea. A
small boat was just shipping its oars to land on the beach, seaman
scrambling over the side to pull it ashore.

Christopher did not need his spyglass to see
the flash of sun on one red head and one black. "Damn."

Ardmore snapped around. He raised his
spyglass and stared through it at the landing boat. "Who gave that
order?" he asked incredulously.

Christopher watched as, below, Henderson
approached the boat and lifted Honoria over its side to the sand.
"Which of them do you think it was?" he asked mildly. "Yours or
mine?"

Ardmore shot him a dark look. "Likely both."
He clapped his spyglass shut. "Do we go on or back? We can't reach
the top and get down again before dark."

"Go back." Christopher pointed across the
narrow valley to the next jutting cliff. "This is the wrong ridge.
We should be on that one."

Manda, who had just come trotting back down
to them, stopped short, her black hair swinging. "What? You'd
better be joking."

"I was here only once, four years ago, and I
was in a hurry. We took the wrong path at the bottom."

Manda rolled her eyes and sat down on the
grass. Her shirt was stained with sweat and green streaks. O'Malley
also sank to his heels, looking slightly put out.

On the next cliff, a waterfall fell hundreds
of feet to the valley below. Beneath it, Christopher knew, a series
of pools fed into one another then splashed over black rocks to
empty into the sea.

"It's there," he said.

Ardmore studied the waterfall. "It had better
be."

"Too late to get there tonight," Christopher
said. "We'll camp on shore and start early tomorrow."

Manda shot him a pained look, then heaved
herself to her feet and fell into step behind him.

Christopher didn't miss the hard look Ardmore
sent his direction as they started down. Christopher honestly had
mistaken the direction at the bottom of the path, though he'd not
announced his error until an hour after he'd realized it. Ardmore
needed to be kept off guard.

He heard Ardmore and O'Malley speaking in low
voices behind him and decided it a good idea that he and Manda take
alternate watches that night.

By the time they reached the cove again, the
sun hung low above the horizon, the boat still rested on shore, and
the two captains' wives were nowhere to be found.

*****

Chapter Twenty-One

St. Cyr volunteered the information. "Madame
Ardmore and Madame Raine expressed the wish to bathe. They went to
the pools. Mr. Henderson accompanied them."

"Henderson?" Ardmore growled. His tanned face
darkened further, and a murderous light entered his eyes.

"To keep them from coming to harm," St. Cyr
finished. His countenance remained as expressionless as ever, but
Christopher swore he saw the man's eyes twinkle.

Ardmore was already striding toward the path
that led to the pools, and Christopher jogged to catch up with him.
Without speaking, the two men pushed their way through the
undergrowth, boots sliding on the damp rocks.

The sound of thundering water grew louder a
they neared it. Christopher saw evidence of the ladies'
passing--broken branches and a piece of lavender lace from
Honoria's gown.

Christopher knew by heart each dress Honoria
had brought with her and how she looked in each. The cream-colored
muslin hugged her hips deliciously, the coral frock made her look
like a ripe peach he wanted to bite. The light green gown pushed
her breasts high and had little black buttons all down the front.
He enjoyed the challenge of unbuttoning all those buttons.

What Christopher liked best about his wife's
dresses was removing them from her. She would have stripped the
lavender one from her body by now, and she'd be splashing in the
clear pool.

Water would bead on her lashes and trickle
down her throat to the crevice between her breasts. Honoria would
swim lazily across the little pool, turning in the sunshine, sweet
and wet, her skin slick with water.

With Henderson standing guard over her.
Christopher's stride quickened along with his pulse.

The cool spray from the waterfall misted on
the plants where the path narrowed and ended at a huge boulder. Mr.
Henderson leaned against this rock, his gaze on the approaching
men. Ardmore tried to peer past Henderson, but nothing could be
seen beyond the boulder but more vegetation.

Christopher said, "Noble of you to ensure the
safety of the ladies, Henderson."

Henderson looked wooden. "Before you jump to
conclusions, I am guarding the path. No one can get to the pools
without climbing past me. Or would you prefer to let the sailors
spy on your wives?"

The brush beyond the boulder moved and Diana
Ardmore climbed over the rock toward them. She was fully dressed,
with breeches and boots beneath her gown, as Christopher saw when
she lifted the skirt to jump down. Henderson gallantly offered his
hand, which she took with a grateful glance, before landing on the
ground before her husband.

"James," she said, and smiled her dazzling
smile.

She must be the only person in the world ever
happy to see Captain Ardmore. "Mr. Henderson has been gallantry
itself," she continued, her blue eyes glowing. "So leave him
alone."

"Mr. Henderson is always gallant," Ardmore
drawled.

"Where is my wife?" Christopher asked
her.

"She said she wanted to swim as long as she
could."

Of course she would. Honoria had been eager
to submerge herself in a bath. Naturally, she would try to soak up
as much water as she could to make up for lack of baths to
come.

"You can go away now, Henderson," Christopher
said.

Diana slipped her hand under Ardmore's arm
and began steering him down the path toward the cove. Henderson
pushed himself from the boulder and followed them without a word.
Christopher heard Diana asking about the gold before the noise of
the water drowned out Ardmore's short-tempered reply.

Christopher climbed over the rock and move on
to the pools. The waterfall thundered about five hundred yards
away, gushing water through rock-strewn rapids. At one place, the
rushing stream backed up into a little pool, where the current
slowed and a bather could swim without danger.