Raised By Wolves 3 - Treasure (63 page)

Cudro sighed expansively when I finished. “There would have been a time when I would have said damn any buccaneer to Hell for taking your father’s blood money, because they sure as the Devil aren’t true buccaneers.” He shook his head. “But now…” He sighed again.

“Too many arrived as Nickel and I did,” Ash said. “The Way of the Coast means little to them, if they know it at all.”

There were sad nods all around.

“They’re all the Crown’s lackeys and one bad turn from being pirates now,” the Bard said. “Well, we can protect the four of you while you’re on the Queen; but with this warship Striker says Morgan has, the good Admiral will be wanting a big target and as many men as he can muster.

Who knows how far the tale of this bounty has spread. All it will take is one stray ball in a heavy battle.”

“That can ’appen anyway,” Liam said, and all nodded sad agreement.

“But it will happen a bit more frequently if our own men are aiming at them,” the Bard said.

“Is this a thing that can be addressed the way you took on the French?” Cudro asked with a thoughtful frown.

I had not even begun to think of a strategy; and I had forgotten about the Oxford; and I had cared not where we might rove. I considered Cudro’s question.

“Well,” I sighed. “A prize on a man’s head is a difficult thing to counter, as few will step forward to claim a reward for not doing a thing they would not want to admit to having considered.”

Ash chuckled. “Ah, aye, excuse me there, Will. I could have shot your matelot in the back during that last bit of gunfire, but I did not.

Please pay up.”

We laughed.

I sobered a bit as my long-confused and exhausted mind took to the matter. “A rumor could be spread that the bounty is a lie: that it will never be paid, but… I think many would question it. And the truth, that this is a matter between lords… well, that would carry little weight or sympathy with most. The men on the Queen know that you all know of the plot, correct?”

They nodded.

“We told them that any man considering harming the rightful captain or an owner of the vessel could be hung for mutiny,” Cudro said. “And that we would probably skip the hanging part and just let their matelots do what they would with any damn fool stupid enough to try it.”

“It put the fear o’ God in some o’ ’em,” Liam said. “An’ others were just as surprised as we be ta learn o’ it. There were a lot o’ grumblin’

that any among us would even think o’ such a thing.”

“That’s why I don’t fear for you on the Queen,” the Bard said with a grin.“Hell,” Cudro said with a shrug. “Most would not be fool enough to attempt it ashore. They know we’ll question the direction any ball or blade will come from, and that we’re looking for anything suspicious. If we could spread that among the fleet…”

I shook my head. “Aye, it would probably suffice. No man would dare collect if he thought it would destroy his reputation with his fellows– unless they are some damn fool like Burroughs was. We cannot protect against idiots too blinded by greed or impaired in their judgment to know that what they do is wrong. But… I fear larger forces working against us.”

“Modyford,” the Bard sighed. “His being involved in the business does not bode well for ours; much less your lives. If the governor asks, or even if he doesn’t, Morgan – who does not like you – or Bradley – who likes you even less – or any of the other captains, are willing to be involved and turn a blind eye, you are likely done for.”

“They cannot be bought,” I said, more to myself than to them. I was denouncing the only coin they might consider: my inheriting, and thus my interests eclipsing my father’s someday.

“We’ll need to keep the four of you tucked away,” Cudro said.

I sighed and nodded my agreement, but I could not see how we would accomplish it. “Gaston wishes to serve as surgeon. That could keep him tucked away, but not Striker. As captain, he must be with our men.”

“Not if he’s not captain,” Cudro said.

“Not if he is ill,” Julio said at almost the same moment.

Cudro and Julio nodded their agreement at one another’s suggestions; and the rest looked about to see who might be giving such provocative ideas merit.

“Ill how?” Liam asked.

“He would pretend,” Julio said.

“Beneficence,” Alonso said, from where he stood just beyond the tables.

I recalled who he spoke of, and sighed and frowned at him. Alonso shrugged.

“What?” Liam asked.

“Rodolfo…” I sighed again. “We called him Beneficence because… It is not important. His father bought him a commission, and Bene wanted nothing to do with the military. Truly, none of us could see him wielding a weapon other than his tongue. He was an effete little bastard and afraid of horses. So… While we were all drunk one night, we concocted a plan whereby he would become wounded such that he could not serve.

So I shot him in the leg in a duel the next day. He took to using a fine ivory cane, and – as he had predicted – it did little to dampen his career as a libertine.”

“If Striker can’t act ill, that might work even better,” Cudro said seriously. “And it would give him an excuse to step down as captain.”

I glared at Alonso, and he responded with an oblique smile.

“Striker won’t like either course,” the Bard was saying with a chuckle. “But it could keep him alive.”

“We’ll tell Pete o’ it and ’e can knock some sense inta ’im,” Liam said.

“’E can either na’ be captain or ’e can get shot.”

I laughed. “Unless Pete has a better plan that he has not told us.”

“I don’t want anyone thinking I have any motive in this other than keeping Striker alive,” Cudro said earnestly.

All shook their heads and made disparaging noises and he calmed somewhat.

“So, we’ll tuck the four of you away with the wounded somehow,” the Bard said, “and the rest of us will seek out the traitors.”

“Na’ all o’ us,” Liam said.

“Nay, Will has asked that those of us who wish to… stay behind and guard those here,” Julio said.

I nodded. “Once my father learns I have not put her out, my wife will likely become a target, as will my child. And though he would not have Sarah harmed, he might have already requested she be taken away for her own safety once Striker and Pete are no longer about. And I am sure he has no love for this child being born. They are all treasures we need safeguarded, and I thank those of you who will stay, even if you intended to do so for other reasons.”

The five men who had agreed nodded.

“All of you?” Cudro asked, and gazed on each of them in turn.

“Damn, we’ll miss you, but I see what Will is saying.”

“I wasna’ gonna sail anyhow,” Liam said sadly. “My heart’s na’ in it anymore.”

There were nods all around.

“So there is this household and Mister Theodore’s that must be protected?” Julio asked.

“Aye,” I said. “It would likely be more convenient if they were all in one dwelling, I know, but… Women do not always live well together, and it is best there is only one mistress of each house.”

“Where will I be living?” Christine asked abruptly. There was venom in her gaze.

I had forgotten she was present. I sighed. “That must be discussed.”

She stood, kicking her chair over behind her, and marched up the stairs to her room and slammed the door.

All had been silent during her ascent, and now Liam asked quietly,

“Is she na’ the one Gaston agreed ta marry, or am I gettin’ all confused?”

“She was,” I said, trying not to speak so that my voice carried to the second floor. “But, I have asked him not to. We hope to send that one to France with his father.”

Rucker smiled and met my gaze. I shrugged for his benefit.

“Might I ask why?” Dickey asked.

“I do not like her,” I said, and elicited a number of chuckles.

“But he likes your wife?” Alonso asked in English.

I sighed. “My wife is a drunkard – as I believe I mentioned – but now that she is dry, she has become somewhat endearing; and, of course, Gaston adores the baby, Jamaica.”

“Ya na’ be lyin’ with ’er since the babe, right?” Liam asked.

“Nay,” I said quickly.

“An’ yur matelot na be…”

“Nay, nay, nay…”

“All right.”

“She is still my wife, though,” I said seriously. “And it is not her fault my father despises me.”

“So we got ta look after two ladies and two babes?” Davey asked, as if he were being asked to muck a stable.

“Well, they are… ladies, aye, but they are not...” I sighed. “They are Mistress Striker, and Mistress Williams. And they will look after the babes. There will also be Miss Agnes.” All nodded as they knew her.

“Mister Rucker here.”

“I am not the target of assassination… I hope,” Rucker said quickly.

“And I hope not to be a bother.”

“Can ya shoot?” Liam asked.

“A little,” Rucker admitted.

“We’ll work on that, then,” Liam said and clapped his shoulder.

“There is also the housekeeper, Henrietta, the servant, Samuel, and… Oh, damn, possibly my uncle. Though he might be dead, for all we know. And he also might need to be shot… We will discuss that later,” I added in response to their frowns. “At Theodore’s, there is Theodore, Mistress Theodore – some of you might remember her as our former housekeeper, Rachel.”

“The Jewess?” Liam asked.

“Aye, her,” I said.

“She’s gotta sharp tongue,” he sighed.

“Aye, but she bakes a wonderful cheesecake,” I said. “They have a daughter, Elizabeth, who is little more than an infant. There is also a housekeeper, Hannah.”

“Can Theodore shoot?” Liam asked.

I thought of our friend swooning during the altercation at the Chocolata Hole, and suppressed a sigh. “I believe he can be roused to defend his family, but I know not of any martial skills he might possess.”

“We’ll be workin’ on that too, then,” Liam said.

“My sister and Agnes can shoot, and they have the dogs,” I added.

“Vivian… Mistress Williams… should be taught. Actually, all of them, including Mistress Theodore, Hannah and Henrietta should be taught, and Sam.”

Liam nodded sagely. “Well, we’ll be right busy even if no one ever does come after ’em.”

Davey groaned, but Julio, Nickel and Bones were laughing.

I realized how much trouble I was causing, and smiled. It would be interesting to see what we would return to.

The front door opened and the Marquis entered, leaning in equal parts on his cane and Dupree. I was almost alarmed at his state until I saw his face light with surprise and then delight at seeing the atrium full of men.

“Ah! Your ship has returned too!” he called in French. He was drunk.

I stood in greeting; and Cudro, Alonso, Dickey, Ash, and the Bard did as well; with the rest following us to our feet with expressions of confusion.

“My Lord,” I said, and bowed appropriately.

He made a loud disparaging noise. “God, I have had enough of that today. It has been refreshing to be without it these last weeks. Sit! Sit!”

Those of us who understood French sat, with the rest following.

They no longer appeared as confused. My bow and greeting had apparently done as I had hoped, and shown them who we addressed.

Now they were all nervous, and many sat straighter and looked as if they might hide their bottles. Though they had been about me for years when I held a title, I had never let them view me as a true Lord; and so for many, this was likely the first time they felt they had been in the presence of nobility.

The Marquis made his way to my side and dropped down to share my chair, and I made way for him as much as I could without being pushed onto the floor. Once seated, he snatched the bottle Dupree had been carrying and handed it to me. “Fine fine…” he muttered.

It was a truly delightful cognac, and I savored the burn as I passed the bottle to Cudro, who smiled widely once he had a whiff of it.

“Ah, a man with a good nose,” the Marquis said. “Now who are all these gentlemen?”

“Gentlemen,” I said for all, “allow me to introduce Gaston’s father, the Marquis de Tervent.” Then I began to go around the table, giving each man’s name, duty, and some other tidbit about him. The Marquis said some small thing to each, which I translated, and they all began to smile and relax again.

Then he asked of the success of their voyage, and the Bard and Cudro began to relate what they would, with me translating, much to Dupree’s relief.

Some time later, a door opened on the balcony above, and Striker strode down the stairs carrying a small bundle. All hushed in anticipation. Striker’s happy and awestruck smile spoke volumes.

“I have a son,” he said.

The atrium erupted in cheers, and the little bundle started so that everyone smacked one another and bid for quiet. Then Striker laid his son on the table and carefully unwrapped him to reveal a baby every bit as pink and wrinkled as Jamaica had been – but larger. And he did have the little indent beneath his nose; and his head seemed huge in comparison to hers.

“He’s ugly as sin, but he seems to be fine,” Striker said proudly.

“’E’s not ugly! ’E’s a baby!” Liam protested.

The Marquis smacked Striker lightly and pronounced, “He is beautiful,” once Striker’s words were translated.

I looked at all the happy faces and felt a warmth of the soul I had not remembered. Then I glanced over my shoulder and was relieved to find Gaston leaning on the railing, gazing down at us like a beneficent angel. I grinned at him, and he smiled with all the love I would ever need. I thanked the Gods – for many things, but most of all for him.

Seventy-Two

“How is Sarah? Is she accepting visitors?” I asked Striker as he wrapped his son in his blanket and prepared to return him to his mother.

“Aye, aye, come up. Gaston says she is well,” he said quickly.

I had assumed as much; else Striker and my matelot would not have appeared so calm.

I followed him up the stairs and down the balcony and found my sister – though obviously exhausted – anxiously awaiting the return of her son in the middle of a cloud of clean white linen and netting. As Henrietta was scrubbing a spot on the floor at the foot of the bed, and Agnes was bundling up soiled bed clothes, I surmised the birthing had not occurred in the bed.