The Pirate Ruse (24 page)

“We was quite surprised and well pleased when we opened them barrels and crates from the
Chichester
’s hold to find all this, ma’am,” he chuckled.

“I have no wonder of it!” Claire exclaimed.
She glanced around a moment and then asked, “And Trevon thinks it all belonged to this William Pelletier?”

“Aye, ma’am,” Baskerville said.
“A treasonous traitor who deals in bartering human flesh as well.”

A shiver of horror traveled up Cristabel’s spine.
To think she had been dwelling in the home of such a man—to think her mother still lingered near to him—it sickened her.

“Well, I’ll sift through it a bit
, and then you boys can dole it out as you see fit,” Claire said.

“Yes, ma’am,” Baskerville chuckled.

“The cap’n allows his mother to search through the plunder…choose a few items to keep or give as Christmas gifts to the wives and children of the crew,” James whispered aside to Cristabel. He smiled as she looked to him, adding, “Last year she gave me a gold doubloon…minted in 1751 it was.”

Cristabel smiled
, for it was sorely apparent that the fact Claire had presented James a gift for Christmas was far more valuable to the boy than the coin itself.

“She seems a very kind and worthy woman,” Cristabel whispered.

“Aye, miss. That she is,” James agreed.

“Come along, darling,” Claire called to Cristabel then.
“Come and sift through the treasure with me. Oh, it is such fun!”

As Cristabel joined Claire in looking into a chest filled with pieces of eight, she heard James Kelley say to Baskerville, “The
cap’n asked me to return to him at once, sir. Says he has an errand for me.”

Baskerville chuckled.
“Then it seems you did not linger long under his temper, boy. Count your blessings in that.”

“Aye, Mister Baskerville
, I will!” James said with a nod before exiting the houseboat.

“It is a clever place to cache treasure,” Cristabel said as she glanced around the one-room houseboat.

“Yes!” Claire agreed, handing a fistful of silver pieces of eight to Cristabel. “Trevon is a clever boy. After all, who would think such a thing as this old floating house would secret such riches, eh?”

“Indeed,” Cristabel giggled.

“Now, I like best the old pieces of eight, darling,” Claire said then. “Help me search out a few older coins, will you?”

“Are the oldest coins rare…more valuable in some regard?” Cristabel asked.

“Not as the world sees them, love,” Claire began, “but to me they are. The old ones have character. They have been weathered by adventure and experience. I like to sit and ponder them—wonder where they have been and what they have seen, whose hands once held them.”

Cristabel smiled
, delighted by the woman’s dreamy sentiments.

“You see
, here’s one, dear,” Claire said, offering Cristabel a worn-looking coin. “1739 is its date. See it there?”

Cristabel gazed at it—studied it with intrigued interest.
The arms of Castile and Leon were hardly discernable on the reverse of the coin, as were the Pillars of Hercules on the obverse. Still, the date was there.

“1739,” Cristabel whispered.

“And where do you think this coin has traveled in nearly one hundred years?” Claire asked. “Has it been held in the hands of kings or queens? Paupers and pirates? What was it used to purchase? Rum? Food or clothing?”

“Your pondering of this simple coin…I find it fascinating,” C
ristabel mumbled as she studied the coin with even more intent.

Claire giggled.
“So do I,” she agreed. “But think of the truth in it. That very coin you hold was most likely first held by a man or woman who has long since gone to heaven. What mark did that person leave upon the soul of that coin?”

Cristabel smiled at Claire
, entirely intrigued by what she had submitted to her thoughts.

“So this treasure…all of it,” Cristabel began, “it is not the monetary worth of it that intrigues you
but rather its value as a thing that has traveled through history as an adventurer.”

“Exactly!” Claire exclaimed, smiling.
Her eyebrows arched as she said, “Though do not misunderstand, for I do find the gems and jewels very, very beautiful. I own several pieces of unfathomable beauty, gifts from Trevon. Yet even with rubies and sapphires set in silver and gold, it is their sequence of existence I adore imagining.” She paused, sighing as she studied a particularly shiny gold doubloon. “I own a necklace crafted from silver and set with diamonds and sapphires. There is an inscription on the back of the middle gem’s silver setting. Can you guess what it reads?”

“Never,” Cristabel truthfully giggled.

Claire arched one eyebrow. Lowering her voice, she whispered, “The inscription reads,
To Anne…this, as my heart…Louis XIII, 1615
.”

“No!” Cristabel gasped.
“Truly? The King of France…to Anne of Austria?”

Claire shrugged
, even as she smiled with beaming delight. “It cannot be proven…not without my giving it over to the French. Yet what else could it mean? Furthermore, Trevon acquired it from pirates who had only just plundered a French ship. Therefore, I like to imagine that it is what it appears to be.”

“Astonishing!” Cristabel breathed.
“Purely fascinating!”

Claire inhaled a deep breath
and studied Cristabel a moment. “Mister Baskerville,” she called.

“Yes, ma’am?” Baskerville asked, approaching.

“List two pieces of eight under Trevon’s bounty from this treasure hoard,” she explained. “I am gifting them to Miss Albay, for I can see that she is truly appreciative of their origins and travels…just as I am.”

“Oh no, ma’am!” Cristab
el argued, attempting to return all the pieces of eight she held to Claire. “I cannot possibly—”

“This one,” Claire interrupted
, however, pressing the worn coin marked 1739 into Cristabel’s palm. “And this one,” she said, placing a more recently minted coin with it. Claire smiled, knowingly. “If you could only have one…which one would you choose?”

Cristabel smiled.
“The worn one…without pause.”

Claire nodded.
“Mister Baskerville, mark two pieces of eight to Trevon’s share of these spoils.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Baskerville chuckled.

Claire giggled
and then took Cristabel’s free hand in hers. “Now, darling, help me find some sweet trinkets to give as gifts this Christmas, will you?”

“Of course,” Cristabel said, still studying the coins in her hand.
Navarrone’s mother was enchanting! The moment of their first meeting she had fancied her very soul had begun to adhere to the woman’s spirit—yet now—now she was assured of it. They were, as Thomas Gray had written in 1751,
kindred spirits
, and she was overwhelmed with a sudden feeling of having found an eternal friend. The mother of a privateer she may be, yet Claire Navarrone was a diamond—a rare gem of greater worth than any other that had ever lingered in the crown jewels of France.

Still clasping the two pieces of eight in her hand, Cristabel smiled as she began to sort through the gold, silver, gems
, and jewels cached in the ramshackle houseboat. It was the very stuff of dreams—the treasure, the pirates, and, most of all, Trevon Navarrone. She thought of the handsome privateer captain, and her mouth began to water for want of his kiss, her body aching to be in his arms. It was the stuff of fantasy—all of it.

*

In a lowered voice of conspiratorial tone, Trevon Navarrone said, “I have an errand for you, James Kelley.”

“Aye, Cap’n,” James whispered.

Navarrone smiled as he saw the boy’s eyes illuminate with pride and excitement.

“It is a secret errand, lad,” he began, “and one that may require patience.
You are the only man for this errand, and it is of profound importance.”

“Yes, Cap’n,” James said
, smiling.

“I have been musing, James Kelley,” Navarrone explained.
“This conspiracy looming where Cristabel is concerned, it taxes my mind greatly…as some intricate riddle or puzzle in need of solving.”

“Aye, Cap’n,” James agreed.
“I can well see your frustration.”

“Cristabel Albay is worried for her mother
. Along many venues does her worry meander,” Navarrone said. “I would see one venue eliminated…that being her mother’s misconception that her daughter is lost or dead. Yet I pause in communicating this to Mrs. William Pelletier.”

“For her husband is a traitor,” James Kelley offered.

Navarrone chuckled. “You are a wise young man, James. Yes. Part of me fears that Cristabel’s mother may not keep silent…that she might reveal, even without intention, that Cristabel is alive. Yet another part of me owns suspicions that Lisette Albay Pelletier may be more our kin than even her daughter realizes.”

“How so, Cap’n?” James inquired.

“Cristabel revealed to me, under the influence of the devil rum,” Navarrone paused, chuckling at the memory of the proper Miss Albay sloshed to the wind. “She rather inadvertently revealed that she and her mother regularly visit Marie Blanchard’s shop.”

James Kelley’s own brows arched
, a smile donning his face as understanding began to wash over him.

“It is patriots and friends that frequent Marie Blanchard’s,” James whispered.

“Exactly,” Navarrone said, smiling. “You are a clever lad.”

“You’re thinking Cristabel’s mother knows her husband is a traitor…and is perhaps gleaning information that she then shares with fellow patriots, who frequently nibble on Marie Blanchard Biscuits.”

“Yes,” Navarrone confirmed. “That is why I want you to dress as a tattered and destitute orphan boy and give this note to Marie Blanchard,” he said, handing a letter sealed with wax to the boy. “Then wait for Lisette Pelletier to appear. I am thinking she may be frequenting Marie’s shop even more regularly in hopes of gleaning news of her lost daughter.”

“Aye, Cap’n,” James Kelley said.
“It would seem reasonable.”

“That it would, lad.
Therefore, when Marie indicates to you that Lisette Pelletier has arrived, go to Cristabel’s mother and feign begging for coins, and place this in her hand.” Navarrone offered another letter sealed with wax to the boy.

“Aye, Cap’n,” James said
, accepting the letter. “And I’m to stay—”

“Until you have completed this errand,” Navarrone interrupted.
“Then you know how to send our men a signal. And one of them will sail you back to us. Very well?”

“Very well, Cap’n,” James agreed.

“Do this, James Kelley. Do not fail me…and I will reward you very well.”

“Aye, Cap’n.
I will not fail you.”

“Then go now,” Navarrone ordered.
“Fergus is waiting for you on the shore. He will direct you from there.”

“Aye, Cap’n,” James Kelley said, fairly leaping to his feet.
The boy began to leave but paused, turning back to Navarrone. “I owe you my life, Captain Navarrone…and I will not fail you.”

“And I know I can trust in you, James,” Navarrone said
, “as I would trust my own brother, lad.”

James smiled
and sighed with pride and joy. “Aye, Cap’n.”

Navarrone watched the boy go—hoped
James would be careful and that his suspicions were correct where Cristabel’s mother was concerned. He was risking near all he was and owned, the safety and lives of all those who depended on him, in order to ease her mind over her daughter. He closed his eyes and silently prayed that he was not wrong in his strategies and trusts—prayed that he would not fail as he had failed once before—as he had failed Vienne.

*

Cristabel stared at the two silver pieces of eight resting in her palm. She found Claire’s interest in the older coin wildly contagious. In truth, Cristabel had spent the remaining hours of the afternoon wondering where the coin might have traveled—what sights it may have seen. The more recently minted coin was lovely as well, shining and fresh, the artistic imprints on it detailed and quite lovely. Yet Cristabel found that her heart was in full agreement with Claire’s; the older coin was far more interesting—far more a treasure.

“I see my mother has infected your mind with her whimsical tales of the souls of commonplace objects.”

Cristabel smiled as she turned to see Navarrone standing behind her. He wore a slight grin of amusement and appeared weary. Yet as ever, he was breathtakingly handsome.

“She makes a fascinating point, don’t you think?” she asked.

Navarrone smiled and shrugged broad shoulders as he held one hand toward her. Rather unwillingly—for she somehow feared he might claim them for himself—Cristabel placed the two pieces of eight in his warm palm and watched as he considered them.