The Blue Diamond (The Razor's Edge Book 1) (5 page)

“There’s fish and rice if’n
yer hungry,” the bartender said as he poured Cass another glass of rum.

“No thank you, just the rum
for me.” She turned to Willy and asked, “Why don’t you eat? It may be a long
night.”

Willy ordered his meal and
found an empty seat at one of the tables as Cass picked up her drink and walked
to Miranda. Cass covered her smile as the now hopelessly enamored ruffian’s
cheeks glowed with joy while Miranda tickled his stubbled chin.

“I hope I’m not interrupting
anything, cousin,” Cass remarked as she walked around behind Miranda and leaned
her forearm lightly on her cousin’s shoulder.

“Oh, not at all, love. Sandy
and I were just getting to know each other better. Isn’t that right, Sandy?”

“Sandy…is that short for
something?” Cass asked, taking a swig from her cup.

After a long pause and a
nudge from Miranda, he finally answered, “No, miss, it’s me nickname. Me real
name be just plain old John,” he said, never looking away from his daydream.

“Plain, my foot! Why, there
isn’t a thing plain about you,” Miranda exclaimed, taking the aforementioned
appendage and gently poking Sandy in the shin.

“Easy now, Miranda.
 
You wouldn’t want him to follow us home, now
would you?” Cass whispered.

“Sandy’s quite chatty when
you get to know him. I think he’d tell me where they keep the gold for a nipple
slip,” she whispered back.

“They can keep their gold,
and you keep yours as well—that is, unless you’re falling for him and hoping
for a little slip of something, too?” Cass giggled and smiled at the poor pile
of mush, who now leaned against the bar for support.

Miranda turned and slapped
Cass’s arm off her shoulder and threw her a look of disgust. “That’s just
mean.”

“How so?” Cass asked with a
laugh through her teeth, trying to keep their conversation private so as not to
alert, or distract, poor Sandy from his wooing.

“Love is not an option.
Besides,” she continued as she leaned in to reach for a handful of nuts in a
bowl on the bar just past Sandy’s shoulder, deliberately brushing the soft
bulge of her left breast against his sandpaper cheek.

“You were saying?” Cass
asked.

“…his kind is incredibly
grateful.” She winked and popped a peanut in her mouth.

Chapter
Six

Ivory tapped on the locked
door and said, “Roman? Are you there?”

“Yes, Madame,” he answered,
turning the key in the lock and opening the door as Ivory backed away. She
noticed Roman was armed, which he hadn’t been prior to her attempt on
Carbonale’s life at breakfast. He wore a pistol in his sash, and his right hand
rested on it as he spoke.

“Is the Captain free? I’d
like to speak to him before dinner, if I may.”

“He’s expecting guests
within the hour, Madame. Perhaps once they’ve gone. I’ll inform him of your
request. Is there anything else?”

“Yes, would there be
anything stronger than water in this house?”

“The Captain has requested
there be no alcohol.”

“Not even just a little
bit?” Ivory asked, pinching her thumb and forefinger together in the air.

Roman backed out of the room
and closed the door, leaving Ivory pressed against it. She turned and laid her
back on the warm wood and stared around the room, searching for any weakness or
means of escape. Her attempts to engage Roman and Zara were failures. She
contemplated taking the bed apart and attacking the next person to enter the
room with a bed post, or even the chair, but realized the attempt would be
futile against a gun or sword. Besides, she was still weak and prone to
light-headedness with any exertion. She slid down the door in her satin robe
and pulled her knees to her chest. For a few moments, she gave up.

“Madame? I have something
for you to eat,” she heard Zara say through the door. Ivory pushed herself to
her feet and again backed away from the door.

“Thank you. As you know, my
breakfast didn’t go down very well.”

“I brought you fruit and
some chicken and rice. I wasn’t sure what you like to eat, but the Captain
requested we bring you anything you want,” Zara said, setting the silver tray
down on the dresser.

“I’d like a gun and my
blade, please.” Ivory smiled, picking up a slice of pineapple and popping it in
her mouth.

“Sorry, Madame, but those
are not on the menu.” Zara gave Ivory a look of disbelief and sighed. She
gathered herself together, bowed, and turned for the door when Ivory shouted,
“Wait! Please…wait. I heard the Captain is having guests. It’s so lonely in
here. Perhaps you can tell me who he’s expecting?”

“I’m afraid I do not know. I
was told only to sweep the veranda and prepare it for several guests. That’s
all I know.” Zara turned back to Ivory, lowered her head and looked up. “I
swear.”

“I understand.”

Zara reached for the
doorknob, and Ivory spoke to her one last time. “You know what he plans to do
with me, don’t you? He’s taking me to Nassau to turn me over to the
authorities. I’m to be tried for taking a ship full of British cargo. There’s a
very good chance I’ll be hanged.”

“Yes, Madame. I’m to bring
you clothes and prepare a bath for you this evening before dinner. You sail
tomorrow at first light.” Zara opened the door and hurried out, closing it
hard.

Ivory pushed another piece
of pineapple into her mouth carefully, so as not to let the juice burn her
still tender lips. She looked at herself in the mirror and pulled the robe
tightly around her. She leaned in closely at her reflection and pulled her hair
back away from her face, gaining a closer look at the lines and dryness of her
cheeks, and the thin layer of skin now starting to peel away at her hairline
and her nose. She hoped Zara would bring more of her magic balm when she
returned.

* * * *

“Master Green, there are
three of them, you say?”

“Yes, Captain—two women and
a crewman.”

“Two women? I suppose these
are two of the notorious four,” Carbonale remarked, straightening the cuffs of
his deep blue velvet surcoat. He drew a loud breath through his nostrils and
then removed the coat and placed it back on the rack.

“Yes—Madame Cassandra
Randall and Madame Miranda Shepard; both are cousins to Madame Ivory Shepard.”

Carbonale had foregone his
usual brocade doublet and cravat. Instead, he had chosen a plain white linen
shirt open to mid-chest, and he adorned his neck with several gold rope chains.
The longest chain was pulled taut by the weight of a seated golden cat with
large emerald eyes that nestled itself snuggly in the soft sprays of dark hair,
deep in the valley between his chest muscles. He opened the jewelry box on his
dresser and lifted his rings from the red velvet lining, sliding them one by
one over his thick, smooth fingers and twisting them slightly until they sat
just right.

“What say you, Master
Green?” he turned while holding a large plumed hat, as Green stood with his
shoulders back and his hands folded over his groin.

“I know nothing of hats,
Captain, but I can tell you it is a very hot day. I suggest either choose a hat
to shade you or no hat at all, and allow your head to breathe.” Green smiled.

“Alphonse, you are quite
possibly the wisest man I know.” Carbonale turned back to his mirror and poked
and twisted his long dark curls. He poured a small amount of yet another of
Zara’s amazing creations on his hands and swiped it back and forth over his
head, careful not to catch a ring in his ringlets. The scent was fresh, yet
masculine, and he breathed it in with his eyes closed when he brought his hands
to his face in a steeple.

“Your guests have arrived,
Captain,” Roman said upon arriving in the doorway.

“Please inform them I’ll be
along in a few minutes, and by all means, seat them on the veranda and pour
them a glass of our finest,” Carbonale stated as he sheathed his sword and
tucked his pistol into his leather belt.

“Consider it done, Captain,”
Roman said with a nod and turned to leave. “By the way, I’ve collected their
weapons and left those with their man on the beach as instructed.”

Carbonale placed his hands
on his hips and glanced down at his arsenal, smiling. “My home, my rules, no?”

Roman bowed and carried on
as Green laughed in a low baritone purr.

“Master Green, lead the way.
Our guests await.”

As the Captain approached
the doorway, Green cocked his bald black head, raised his big right paw and
asked, “So, what are you going to tell them, Maddox?”

Carbonale looked down and
again tugged at his cuffs before cocking his own head and saying, “Alphonse, my
friend who knows me better than any other man alive; what do you think I’m
going to tell them?”

Alphonse nodded and walked
to the mirror, straightening his shirt and belt, and adding a dash of Zara’s
scented oil to shine his head. He twirled the golden earrings in his lobes and
smiled at Carbonale’s reflection in the mirror. “Now, Captain, I am fit to lead
the way.”

Master Green’s head barely
cleared the doorway. He turned down the hall towards the parlor, catching a
glimpse of Zara watching them before she ducked back into the kitchen. He
crossed the threshold onto the veranda and stepped to the left, bowing to the
guests, and walked to Carbonale’s chair, where he stood until his Captain
appeared between the open French doors.

“Welcome to my home,”
Carbonale announced, placing his hands on his narrow hips. “I am…as of course
you know, Captain Maddox Carbonale of
Le
Chat Noir
.” He walked to his chair and motioned to Master Green. “This fine
gentleman is Quartermaster Green,” he said, placing his left hand atop Green’s
right shoulder. Cassandra sat straight up, eyeing Carbonale’s weapons with a
look of surprise.

“Master Green, if you
please?” he asked, removing his sword and pistol and handing them to Green, who
carried them into the house.

Miranda squirmed a bit in
her seat, crossed her legs, and leaned on her arm rest, pressing her shoulder
to Cassandra with a nudge. Cass turned her head slightly and glanced at
Miranda, and then surrendered her complete attention to the flamboyant, yet
beautiful, man to her right. “Our pleasure, Captain, and thank you for your
hospitality.” However, something was off, and there were three people at the
table who knew completely what it was.

“And you are?” he asked,
extending his hand to her.

“Cassandra Randall, and this
is my cousin, Miranda Shepard,” she answered. Her hand involuntarily slid into
his and was kissed before she knew it had left the table.

“The pleasure is all mine,
ladies,” he said, standing to lean across the table for Miranda’s voluntarily
extended and wiggling fingers.

“Now to our business,” he
continued.
 
“My man Sandy informed Master
Green earlier that you are looking for your Captain—Ivory is it?” Carbonale
said, leaning far back in his chair with his feet flat on the floor.

“Yes, have you seen her?”
Miranda blurted out.

“What my eager cousin means
is yes, she’s been missing for almost a week, and we were hoping perhaps one of
your vessels had picked her out of the water, or heard of her being found.”

“Cass, don’t pussy-foot
around,” Miranda growled under her breath.

“I’m trying to find Ivory,
Miranda, and we need to do this my way,” Cass turned and muttered back at her.

“I’m sorry, ladies, did you
have something to share?” Carbonale asked, lifting his glass for a drink.

“Captain Carbonale, we
received some intelligence that one of your ships was observed rescuing a woman
from a longboat, who fits the description of our cousin. We’d simply like to
know if the woman was Ivory, and what you would require in order to return her
to us so that we may be on our way.”

Cass had boldly laid out the
truth of their visit and now sat straight backed in her seat. Her hand trembled
when she took a sip of her drink. Carbonale sat back in calm repose, turning
his rings and playing with the cat charm resting on his chest. He caressed it between
his thumb and forefinger and stared over at Cassandra. Miranda swooned in her
seat and then sat up and pulled out her fan, waving it over her bosom.
Seemingly out of nowhere, Lasher leapt into Carbonale’s lap, and stroked his
face against his master’s hand.

“Ladies, meet Lasher.”

“Lovely kitty you have
there, but I believe it’s safe now to assume that you do, in fact, know where
Ivory is, and that it was your men who rescued her.” Cass leaned forward
towards him, staring him down as the breeze caused a golden curl to break loose
from her hair and fall against her tanned cheek.

Carbonale took a deep
breath, brushing his hands down over Lasher as the feline settled into his lap
and purred. “Madame, you are a guest in my home, and as such, I’m going to excuse
your bluntness. Perhaps in your camp, such accusations are commonplace. Here,
however, it’s quite rude to accuse your host of lying.”

“Lying? I’ve simply…”

“You simply assumed my
silence was an admission of guilt, and nothing could be further from the
truth,” he said, turning his attention down to Lasher.

“Then can you explain your
lack of an answer when I asked you a very simple question?”

“But you see, Madame
Randall, the question is not as simple as you perceive. Had it crossed your
mind that perhaps yes, one of my ships rescued—as you say—your cousin, but
maybe did not report it to me?
 
That she
is, in fact, somewhere in the company of said…gentlemen, and has not yet chosen
to return?”

Cass fell silent, picked up
her drink, and took a healthy swig. “No, sir…I had not thought of that
explanation. I suppose to you it seems plausible but we know her better.”

“Captain.”

“Excuse me?”
 
Cass raised her eyebrows.

“I am a Captain, Madame, and
I’d appreciate it if you would address me as such.”

“Look, Captain, it really
has been nice, especially the part where you’re better looking than most of the
women I know, but I believe we’ve wasted enough of your time,” Miranda said,
washing down the rest of her drink and pulling away from the table.

“Miranda, wait,” Cass stood,
grabbing her arm. “So, that is your answer…Captain?”

“Well, since your cousin is
obviously not here, I’d say yes, you have your answer…ladies.” Carbonale
smiled, at last raising his eyes from the shiny black coat of fur in his lap.