“We can’t risk that,” Damon put in. “The tavern keeper might question Jack to make sure it’s really her.”
Jacqueline understood now what Damon had meant when he’d told her, “This isn’t the end.” And they weren’t even asking her opinion.
“This is a simple matter,” she said. “I just need to stand there looking angry and coerced to prove Damon completed his mission. Once he gets the location, we leave. What could go wrong?”
“The tavern could be full of bloody pirates, that’s what,” James said.
Drew chuckled. “A handful, maybe. Lacross won’t leave too many of his men sitting idle for months waiting for Damon to show up, if he even stationed any there. But we can go in before Damon and Jack enter to check the place out, pretend to be customers, and be on hand to protect Jack. But not you, James. You would be recognized.”
“We will need to go in with just Reeves’s ship,” Boyd mentioned as if the plan were already agreed upon. “All of our ships arriving at once would be a red flag—in case there are more pirates there. And we should probably go in the morning. The tavern might be too crowded tonight.”
“Nathan has a small stable here,” Drew added. “Some of us can ride to the tavern and be there before Damon and Jack arrive.”
“And I’ll go with Damon and Jack as escort,” Jeremy said. “I can look the part of a pirate if need be. The tavern keeper won’t know the difference.”
“I will as well,” Anthony said, then smirked. “Father and son pirates.” James rolled his eyes at that because the two still looked so much alike, but Tony added, “You denied me the last fight, which ended up not being one. You’re not keeping me from any more, old boy.”
“Then it’s settled?” Damon asked.
James nodded. “I’ll sail with you and stay out of sight. But I’ll be close by if I’m needed. And you will protect my daughter with your life. I hope we understand each other?”
“Perfectly,” Damon said.
No one in the room doubted that James had just issued a polite death threat.
Chapter Forty-Five
A PRETTY MOON was shining on the water and the breeze was warm on Jacqueline’s cheeks as she stood on the balcony of Gabby’s old room, which she’d been given for their brief stay. The yard had a green lawn and a few palm trees, but the lawn didn’t extend far before the beach started. The house was small, local in design with its open, airy rooms, although most of the furniture was English. Warren and Boyd had rowed back out to their ships to sleep in their cabins. James and Anthony were sharing Nathan’s room for the night. She wondered if Jeremy and Damon were sharing a room, or if Damon had one to himself.
She was considering asking one of the servants when she saw Damon below the balcony, walking across the lawn. He wasn’t looking for her window and appeared to be in a pensive mood. “Psst!” She tried a few times to catch his attention. When he looked up, she signaled him to wait. She yanked on her britches, pulled on her boots without stockings, tied her nightgown around her waist, and climbed over the balcony railing to hang from the bottom of it before she even thought to look if there was anything to give purchase for her feet. But then she felt his arms go around her legs and she let go, twisted about, and slowly slid down his body to the ground.
She started to laugh but his mouth cut her off, and that kiss was incredibly voracious, setting off all sorts of delicious sensations inside her. It felt like years since she’d touched him, tasted him, when it had been only a few days, but it hadn’t been enough then and it certainly wasn’t enough now when she needed so much more. So she didn’t object when he took her hand and they started running away from the house along the grass bordering the sand.
He didn’t slow down until the ships anchored by the house were far from view. No watch was likely to have been posted on any of them this far up the coast. It was still nice to feel a little isolated. The beach was empty, illuminated by a bright moon, and the air was balmy on their cheeks. They strolled, hand in hand, on the sand for a while. Jack felt so happy and kept stealing glimpses of Damon’s handsome face.
“I didn’t think I was going to see you alone before the battle,” he said. “We’ll be sailing directly to it as soon as we get the location tomorrow.”
“I doubt it will take long. There are enough armed ships in my father’s fleet that you can probably sink whatever island Lacross is on.”
He chuckled. “Not quite sink, but your father decided against bombarding the base because he wants to deal with the pirate personally. The cannons will only be used to blast an opening if there are any high walls.”
“That gives them warning. They could scatter.”
“But not escape. It’s a new base, might even still be under construction—unless Lacross found another ancient fort to fortify.”
“My father is letting you go along for the battle?”
“Why wouldn’t he?”
“I’m more worried about why he would, when he might think you’ll die in the fight. Don’t do that.”
He laughed and pulled her into his arms, hugging her tightly and whirling her around. “You can be very silly, Jack, about some of the orders you issue.”
Jack looked up at the moonlit sky and smiled dreamily, but then she heard him add, “There are many tales about mermaids in the Caribbean, beautiful women who entrance men, put them under a spell, and make them do their bidding. They’re dangerous, but no man can resist them. Are you one of them, Jack?” He put her down and ran his fingers through her long blond hair before kissing her.
She grinned against his lips and said whimsically, “Maybe.”
Damon sat down on the sand and drew her onto his lap. Lights twinkled in the distance by the harbor. She cuddled against his chest. His kisses were soft, his mouth moving from hers to her cheeks, down to her neck. Gently, he was stirring her desires, making her wish she could share such moments with him every day. Without spotting her brother or sailors every time she turned around, she could touch him as she wanted, however she wanted. But on this beautiful night in this beautiful place she was oddly content to be in his arms as he held her close.
A caress on the side of her neck made her shiver, causing him to ask, “Are you nervous about your part tomorrow?”
“Not a’tall. It’s likely to be quite boring, then I’ll get stashed back here while you men get to go have all the fun.”
“That sounds like a complaint. You can’t really want to go along for the fight?”
“Why can’t I—want to, that is? I thought you said you knew me quite well.”
He rolled his eyes at her grin, and she ran her fingers lightly along his neck. If she hadn’t been basking in this closeness they were sharing, they wouldn’t be talking now, but since he hadn’t stopped kissing her the whole while, she hadn’t tried to silence him yet. But she gasped when one of his hands brushed too close to her breasts, and when he did it again more slowly, definitely caressing her there now, she thought she would probably regret making love on a beach when she woke up tomorrow with sand in her bed. . . . She laughed at the thought. No, she wouldn’t.
“What’s amusing?”
She repositioned herself to face him, putting her legs on either side of his hips. “I’ll tell you—when you return safely tomorrow.” She leaned forward and kissed him.
But then they heard, “Really, Jack, climbing out windows at your age?”
She leapt immediately to her feet. “Damnit, Jeremy—”
“No complaints, dear girl, after I’ve been standing over yonder when I ought to be in bed just so you could have some time to talk. Anything else doesn’t get to happen . . . ever . . . again. So come along.” He held out his hand to her, but she ignored it and flounced past him instead, so she didn’t hear, “And you, Captain, won’t be warned again—stay away from my sister.”
She managed not to slam the door to her room when she got back to it. But her frustration didn’t last long. That interlude, having Damon all to herself ag
ain, had been too nice.
In the morning, she had a quick breakfast before they all rowed out to Damon’s ship. She’d come ashore in her rose brocade traveling dress and she wore it now, although she’d left off the matching spencer jacket because the weather was so hot here in late August. Warren, Drew, and Boyd had departed earlier to ride to town and be inside the tavern when they got there. James was still chafing at the necessity of remaining out of sight until Pierre’s new location was obtained.
It didn’t take long to reach the harbor, where they got the last available berth, so they didn’t have to row ashore. Jeremy and Anthony had raided Nathan’s wardrobe and blended in perfectly. Jeremy had a bandanna tied about his head, and Tony was wearing an old tricorn hat with a pink feather. Neither man wore a jacket, and both had pistols stuck in their belts. They walked Jacqueline ashore, one on either side of her, following Damon and Mortimer, who led the way to the rendezvous site.
The tavern was near the docks and was crowded even at that early hour, which wasn’t surprising with so many ships presently docked. The patrons appeared to be an even mix of traditional sailors and men of a rougher caliber, not necessarily pirates, but not friendly sorts, either.
“Anyone you recognize—not counting ours?” Jeremy asked Damon in a low voice as they entered.
“No.”
The Anderson brothers were seated at a table near the entrance where they could keep an eye on the whole room and anyone who walked through the door. But every eye in the room fixed on Jacqueline. Laughter was cut short and silence descended for several long moments. It was what Jack had expected. Ladies didn’t usually frequent such places. If the room weren’t so crowded, she might have pretended to struggle a little or at least pulled her arms away from her uncle and brother, who were clasping them. But the last thing they wanted was for anyone there to try to help her.
They moved forward to the long bar, where the man behind it was watching them closely.
Damon leaned forward and gave him the password. “As you can see, I have Pierre’s prize.”
The man nodded. “Wait.” He entered a back room to the side of the bar, leaving the door open.
“Be easy,” Damon whispered behind him.
“Smells like a trap,” Jeremy whispered back, but after glancing behind himself and not seeing anyone getting up from the tables, amended, “Or not.”
The tavern keeper returned and handed a note across the bar to Damon, who glanced at it before putting it in his pocket. He started to thank the man—until Catherine Meyer walked out of that same back room and came around the bar to stand in front of him.
She was grinning, nearly laughing. “Success at last!” she crowed, then turned her gloating expression on Jacqueline. “My father will be so pleased to finally meet you, Jack. And who are these fellows?” She was giving Jeremy a long, appreciative look.
“Your father’s men make lousy sailors,” Damon said. “I hired a few more in London.”
Catherine’s eyes came back to him. “Where are his men? I didn’t notice any of them on the deck of your ship as you sailed in.”
“You were watching for us?”
“Of course. And his men?” She didn’t exactly look suspicious—yet.
“Last night they celebrated being so close to landing,” Damon said. “They’re likely still sleeping it off. I saw no reason to wake them just to come ashore since we aren’t staying here. And why are you here?”
“I finished my task successfully, too.” She laughed. “Those New York bankers’ wives are so rich! And since it was nearing the time of your return, I decided to wait for you here. I’ve only been here a few days. Good of you to not keep me waiting too long.”
“Again, why?”
“Because I’d rather deliver her to my father, if you don’t mind.”
Damon stiffened. “I do mind.”
“Too bad.” Catherine smirked and signaled to her men.
Nearly half the room stood up!
Jacqueline was immediately shoved behind her escort, which left her standing next to Catherine, who was quickly opening her purse no doubt to get a weapon to detain Jack. Jacqueline socked Catherine’s nose first, which Jack found so utterly satisfying! Catherine slid to the floor, screaming and trying to stanch the blood from her nose.
Jacqueline reached down and pulled the purse off Catherine’s arm to get whatever weapon was in it. She also saw a lot of jewelry in the bag, mostly rings and bracelets, yet another fortune for her damned father.
“Stay down unless you want a boot to your face, too,” Jack told the pirate’s daughter, pointing the little pistol from the purse at her as well.
A lot of fighting was going on in the rest of the room. But the Anderson brothers had made a big dent in the numbers, having taken a lot of Catherine’s men by surprise from behind. Anthony and Jeremy were making quick work of those who’d charged them. Damon wasn’t abandoning his bulwark station directly in front of Jack, merely beating down anyone who got close to him. Mortimer had charged into the middle of the fray. Unfortunately, some of the normal sailors couldn’t resist a fight, either, and didn’t care whom it was against. Some helped, some didn’t. Still, the fight was over rather quickly, considering most of Catherine’s crew was in that room. And Jacqueline had the evidence in her hands that would assure Catherine Meyer would get her just deserts. Now, if apprehending her father could be this easy. . . .
Chapter Forty-Six
STANDING ON THE DECK of The Maiden George, Damon said, “He’s been building a small army, but whether it’s a useful army remains to be seen. If Lacross just wanted numbers in anticipation of dealing with your allies after he killed you, then he might not have been particular in who he sent his captains to hire, and they may not all be willing to fight for him.”
Damon had been asked for any more information about the pirates that he could warn them about, before they debarked. Spotting the anchored ships with no harbor was the only indication they had that they’d found the actual camp. But this island was a jungle thick with foliage, and at a glance, nothing of a camp was sighted.
Two ships from Malory’s fleet had turned about to go ashore farther back, Warren Anderson leading those crews, so the base, if it was in there, would be mostly surrounded to prevent escape. James was giving his in-law time to get into position.
“How many ships are usually anchored at his base?” James asked next.
“I’ve only ever seen one or two, though Lacross’s captains might have taken others out so they could hire more men.”
James lowered his spyglass. “Three are here presently. They will be burned. And no old fort this time, but too much jungle. Whatever he’s built in there is mostly hidden. All I just spotted through the trees is a portion of a wooden wall.” James directed one of his men over the side, then explained to Damon, “He’s going to find out if they have any high walls that need to be knocked down. It was annoying having to get past them the last time I dealt with Pierre.”
“What if he’s not—at home?”
“I will be extremely disappointed. Is Red with him this time around?”
“Who?”
“Never mind. If you’d seen her, you’d know I’m referring to Pierre’s old flame. A pirate herself, she may have retired after he went to prison. Gabby told me Pierre’s obsession with her infuriated Red, so Red probably wasn’t lured in again.” At Damon’s raised brow, James added, “Not pertinent to this fight, Captain. At least Catherine Meyer has already been apprehended, and no other ships left St. Kitts while we were there that might have warned Lacross that we are coming.”
There had been time in the harbor on St. Kitts to unload the pirates on Damon’s ship before it returned to James’s fleet. “I warned the governor to prepare his jail for a lot more prisoners,” James continued. “He wasn’t pleased to hear that after we’d already turned over the fifteen you had in your hold and the lot from the tavern. But he ordered a pen built to contain them all until trial. My in-law
s will see to delivering the rest to him, while you and I escort Pierre to his home on Anguilla.”
“Will he be able to walk?”
James raised a brow. “Do you care?”
“No,” Damon said, remembering what had been done to Andrew—and what would have been done to Jack. The man deserved punishment.
“Then I expect he will need to be carried.”
A blast was heard and a bright flash came from the trees as a single cannon was fired. James laughed as the cannonball fell far short of any ship and rolled harmlessly down the beach and into the water.
“Pathetic,” James said. “But that’s our cue that they know we’re here. Shall we?”
The longboats had already been lowered and were mostly filled. Malory’s brother was in one. Jeremy wasn’t. He’d been left behind at Nathan Brooks’s house to guard his sister and had complained loudly about it as he and Jack were rowed ashore there. The Andersons were rowed to their own ships, and Damon had been invited—it wasn’t really a request—back to The Maiden George to sail with James. Damon might have smirked over Jeremy’s complaints, considering how aggravating Jeremy had been in his diligence to keep his sister chaste—after the fact. But Damon understood why James wouldn’t risk his firstborn son to a stray bullet, especially when their numbers were great enough that one more man wouldn’t turn the tide either way. Watching Jack being rowed away from him, Damon had sworn to himself it wouldn’t be the last time he saw her.
The longboats had barely reached the beach when a wave of men burst out of the trees. They were yelling, brandishing pistols, sabers; one even held an ancient pike—dozens of men were charging in their direction.
“One shot each to stem the tide!” James commanded.
Damon was wading ashore when he fired, but other shots came from twelve longboats, not all at once, but close enough that the front line fell as well as the second line, and the men still running forward started tripping over bodies. It had been a pointless charge, and Damon was afraid that Lacross had ordered it to buy himself time to escape. It wasn’t that small an island. It could take days to find him, maybe even weeks, if he managed to slip into the jungle. So Damon grabbed a saber from one of the downed men and fought his way through the remaining pirates to get to the buildings behind the trees.
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