‘Would you ask that of a man? Would you judge a man for fighting for his home and defending his country? Of course you would not! Don’t judge me more harshly because of my sex!’
Fury rose in her. She didn’t care if he was outraged and hurting. ‘If that is what it takes, then, yes, I will fight and I will kill if necessary. Just as you would to defend your home.’
He grunted a grudging agreement and looked at his hands.
‘Did you manage to kit out two ships with what you made with your body?’
‘Like the horse I sold, I’m not so valuable.’ She looked at him drily. ‘No. I bought jewels and clothes. When I presented a wealthy appearance it allowed me access to the commander of the English navy who were in support of de Montfort. I threw myself on his mercy.’
‘Just his mercy?’ Jack asked in a low voice.
‘Yes! I told them of the sacrifice Yann had made to ensure the safety of the English forces and that I wanted to avenge his death. I spoke convincingly and thanks to the grace of King Edward the English gave me White Wolf and paid for it to be fitted out. The condition was that I provided the stake to equip White Hawk and used them to further our mutual cause. Then I asked the men who had fought with Yann and the fishermen in the villages here to be my crew.’
She walked to the window that faced the way Jack’s didn’t and leaned her hands on the sill. She could tell him that her ties to his country went deeper, that the household Fransez now lived in was in England, but he had forfeited the right to learn anything else about her.
Jack picked up the hat, turning it round in his hands. ‘All this time you let me think someone else was Bleiz Mor. I thought you were helpless. I knew Ronec held something over you but I had no idea what.’
He tightened his fists against his sides and looked back at Blanche. The anger in his voice was terrible to hear but the look of betrayal in his eyes was worse than a sword through her guts.
‘I had to do it,’ Blanche said. Tears made her eyes blur. She wiped them away angrily.
‘No, you didn’t,’ Jack snapped. He spun away and walked swiftly to the window, leaning his hands on the sill and bowing his head. ‘You’ve lied constantly.’
‘That’s unfair!’ Blanche exclaimed. ‘I told you my biggest secret—my worst shame.’
‘You didn’t tell me this one.’ His face was bleak.
‘I didn’t think it mattered. I thought I could hide it until you left. Until you asked me this morning, I never dreamed that was possible you might stay. I delayed giving you the box at first because I thought it was for the best. I didn’t know if we could trust you and Ronec would have demanded your death or arrest if it had held something incriminating. I couldn’t let that happen.’
‘Why not?’ Jack asked. He looked over his shoulder but past Blanche and would not meet her eyes.
‘I wanted to keep you here a little longer. Because I was growing to care about you.’
He met her gaze but there was none of the tenderness she had seen when they made love. Only disbelief and pain filled his eyes.
‘How can I believe that after all your other lies?’ he said bitterly. ‘You’ve dripped out the truth when you had no choice and this is the same. What other secrets have you kept from me?’
‘None!’ Blanche cried. ‘There is nothing else. I thought it didn’t matter, because you would be gone soon. Then you told me you would stay and I realised I couldn’t tell you.’
She held her hands out, wanting to hold him but he shook his head.
‘Don’t touch me now. Not ever.’
His words broke her.
‘Were you ever going to tell me?’ His voice cracked. It tore Blanche’s heart to shreds.
‘I knew you would despise me.’
Her voice was small. She hated the sound of it, knowing how openly she was showing her despair. Where was the woman who bedded men without a care? Who laughed at their pleas and hardened her heart? How had Jack managed to crush the walls she had so carefully built around herself?
He laughed bitterly.
‘Do you know I suspected Ronec might be Bleiz Mor, even though I had seen the two of you together? What hold does he have over you? Don’t even think of lying to me now.’
Blanche felt nausea rising. ‘I had to raise the money to equip the ships and pay the men myself but I couldn’t do it without help. He had been a friend of Mael’s family. I thought I could trust him.’
‘You went to bed with him, didn’t you?’
Blanche writhed at the contempt in Jack’s voice but she reminded herself that she had sworn to regret nothing. She lifted her chin and looked him in the eye. ‘Yes, I did.’
‘How many times?’
She couldn’t bear the disgust that filled Jack’s voice. She didn’t want him to see her own loathing for herself and the man she had given herself to.
‘Does that matter?’ she whispered.
‘I don’t know.’ His jaw tightened and he glared at her. ‘How many times did you make love to him?’
‘I’ve never made love to him!’
She faced Jack, cheeks growing hot, and folded her arms around herself as if that could offer protection from the searing gaze that burned her.
‘I had to beg Ronec for more money than he had originally pledged. The cost was a week in his bed. But I’ve been paying the price for his silence ever since.’
‘Why does he want to marry you?’ Jack asked. ‘If he can claim you when he likes, what more does he need?’
‘A husband controls his wife’s possessions. He wants control of the ships. He thinks that limiting ourselves to attacking the French is a waste when the sea is full of cargo vessels. That’s why he encourages the wrecking.
‘You know I refused to take part in the wrecking. I’ve banned all my men from doing it again. I saved you because it was the right thing to do and I’m glad you lived.’
‘But if I had been on a ship you attacked, you would not have hesitated before ending my life,’ Jack pointed out.
‘No. Not through choice, but because it is what I have to do.’
Jack covered his face with his hands.
‘I believed you to be virtuous and innocent. I came to your aid! I offered to protect you.’
‘I didn’t ask you to!’ Blanche said. ‘I told you time and again that I needed no one to defend me and that I am no frail woman who must cling to a man. If you chose to ignore what I said, that is your doing. The mistake is yours.’
But she had tried to give that impression, hadn’t she? She’d wanted him to think her virtuous and chaste—a poor widow living in solitude. She dropped her head so he didn’t see the pain she felt.
‘A mistake I shall put behind me as soon as possible,’ Jack said. He looked suddenly tired. As weak as the day he had woken from his fevered sleep.
‘It is your countrymen who aided me, Jack. You and I are on the same side. Why can’t you see that?’
He looked at her wearily. ‘We’re not on the same side, Blanche. The only side you are on is your own.’
She spun around, glaring at him. ‘And I have to be! Ultimately, who else is on my side? No one! Ronec isn’t. I was on my husbands’ sides as a loyal wife to both of them for many years. Now I stand alone.’
She dropped her head. ‘I was foolish to ever think it might be different.’
Her legs began to tremble. She locked her knees, refusing to show her weakness.
‘You said you cared for me,’ she whispered.
He stepped close and reached out a hand, holding it close to her cheek. She felt the warmth emanating from his palm and for a brief moment thought he was going to caress her but he withdrew it.
‘I do care for you, but how can I stay knowing what you did?’
‘I will not insult you by asking.’
Jack nodded, his jaw t
ightening. He pulled on his shirt and shrugged himself into his jerkin. He bent down and picked up the hat then held it out to Blanche. When she did not take it he tossed it on to the bed.
‘Thank you for your hospitality and care, Blanche. I shall try remember those rather than this.’
He walked away and she made no attempt to follow.
Blanche waited until she knew Jack had left the castle. She had plenty of thoughts to keep her occupied. Recriminations and self-loathing. She waited longer still, until she could be sure he would be at Benestin and probably on board Nevez’s ship. She wondered which port in England he would land in. Now there were two reasons her heart clenched when she thought of that island. She dressed in the costume of the Sea Wolf, which now seemed hateful to her. She pinned her hair and curled it tightly and jammed it under the hat. A lump in her throat threatened to choke her and she craved a cup of wine to force the lump away. She marched downstairs and found Andrey. He raised his eyebrows at the sight of her.
‘Jack left,’ he said.
‘I know.’ She forced her eyes to stay clear and dry.
‘Word came from men at St Petroc. The French are sailing from Brest tonight.’
He looked at her keenly. How could she tell him she wanted to hide away and curl into a ball rather than attack? He would never understand. Tonight she would sail. Tomorrow she would explain.
‘Make ready the crew. We sail to meet them.’
She mounted her horse and made her way to Ronec’s house. She found him alone and strode up to him with a purposeful manner. She told him of Andrey’s message. ‘We sail on the evening tide,’ she said. ‘White Hawk needs her Captain.’
Ronec lifted his chin. ‘It’s been a while since I saw you wearing that. I had wondered if you had surrendered it for ever.’
Blanche ground her teeth. ‘No. My guest has left. Now we can continue as I promised.’
Ronec gave her a lecherous grin. ‘Then does White Wolf’s Captain need me, too?’
Blanche turned her back. She’d lost Jack and the possibility of happiness. What did it matter if she gave herself to Ronec? The thought was abhorrent but she barely cared. No. She could not do that. No man would have her now. Jack would be her final lover.
‘I’ll see you by the dock,’ she told Ronec, and walked away.
* * *
Blanche stood on the deck of White Wolf. There was no need for her to give orders. Andrey was a more than capable First Mate and gave commands efficiently. She watched as the oarsmen rowed beyond the inlet into the open sea. The dusk sun had sunk low and the waves were a palette of gold and purples. Foam crested them and salt spray misted her face, damping the mask over her face. The cog surged forward. Blanche breathed deeply, drawing the clean air into her body. She loved the tilt of the deck beneath her and the wind gusting around her but tonight the elation was shadowed with sadness.
Tonight would be her final voyage. The notion had been creeping up on her like a sea fret since her abhorrence at the wreck and with Jack’s condemnation it had solidified. Bleiz Mor would retire. She would miss this feeling of freedom more than anything once she gave it up.
Not quite everything. She would miss Jack more than anything else.
You find a way to live, she had told him. The words seemed hollow now. Blanche would try to live the life that she had led Jack into believing she led. He would never know but it would satisfy her to do it.
She gazed out at the ocean to hide her emotions from the crew and watched the gulls flying overhead.
A shout from Andrey brought her attention back to the present. She looked where he was pointing. A sail came into view in the distance and another one far beyond that. Both cogs. These must be the French ships that she was searching for. She bellowed to the men.
‘For Brittany. For our freedom and honour.’
As they cheered and set to work turning the ship and relaying the message to White Hawk through a series of whistles, Blanche climbed up to the front tower to get a better view, drawing her sword. Her ships were sleek and light and cut through the water with ease. White Hawk came alongside, ready to trap the ship if the Captain tried to break free. They gained on the closest cog that was tacking lazily around the coast. As they drew near enough to see the figures on deck, Blanche drew her sword and threw her arm into the air. Her crew screamed and hollered their intent.
The crew of the cog began hurrying around, passing boxes below deck. Blanche narrowed her eyes, puzzled. She would not expect the crew of a warship to behave in such an odd way. They should be arming themselves and ready to repel the attack.
This was not the French warship, but a private vessel carrying cargo. The cog was similar to Blanche’s ships but without the fore tower that marked it out as a military vessel.
No one on this ship deserved to die. Blanche sheathed her sword and began giving the order to call off the attack.
‘Enough,’ she screamed. ‘Stand down. We are not taking this ship.’
A susurrus of anger and surprise enveloped her.
‘I was mistaken. This is not the ship we’re looking for,’ she said forcefully. ‘This is not our enemy.’
She repeated her orders and slowly White Wolf began to wheel about. Blanche turned back to look at the cog and a figure moving towards the front of the boat caught her eye. The man walked to the prow and climbed on to the rail. He raised himself up, standing straight backed and staring directly at White Wolf.
Jack.
Blanche couldn’t hold the cry in, though the wind tore his name from her and she knew he wouldn’t hear it. He saw her though, and for one moment that chilled her blood, she stared into the eyes of the man she loved. This was Nevez’s ship but it should have sailed on the morning tide. Something must have caused a delay and now they were in Blanche’s path.
The intention to retreat had been relayed to White Hawk, but Ronec gave no indication of preparing to follow the order. Blanche leapt on to the rail, standing in the same spot Jack was standing. She drew her sword and pointed it at Ronec.
‘You give the order to turn now,’ she bellowed, ‘or the ship I sink will be yours!’
‘Have you lost your mind?’ Andrey cried, coming to her side.
‘Jack is on that ship.’
She would rather sink her own ship than see Jack’s life snatched away. The sea had surrendered him once but he could not be so lucky a second time. Andrey repeated Blanche’s order.
Ronec finally believed she was in earnest and she heard him giving the order to his crew. Both ships came about, heading back to the cove. Blanche ran to the back of the ship and climbed on to the rear tower. Jack was still standing watching. As Nevez’s ship began to move away he walked down the length of it, keeping Blanche in view. She couldn’t see his face clearly any longer but raised her hand in farewell. Slowly, Jack raised his and they stood watching until the other became too small to see.
Too small for him to see the tears that streamed down her cheeks and too far away for him to hear her whispered words.
‘I’m sorry.’
As soon as White Wolf had moored, Blanche walked towards White Hawk, intending to explain to the crew her reasons for withdrawing. Ronec stepped in front of her.
‘What were you playing at?’ His face was florid with fury. ‘We had a perfect opportunity. We could have crushed that ship like swatting a fly.’
‘It wasn’t a French ship,’ Blanche explained, aware of both crews gathering round to listen. ‘It was a cargo vessel.’
‘Cargo be damned!’ Ronec spat. ‘What do I care for that?’
Blanche lowered her voice. ‘Jack was on board.’
Ronec spat at her feet. ‘Now I know why you retreated. He’s gone now, and I’ve tolerated your waywardness long enough.’
He took her by the wrist, fingers tightening.
‘What are you doing!’ Bla
nche exclaimed, trying to pull away.
‘What I should have done a long time ago. I’m relieving you of your command.’
‘Mutiny?’ Blanche sneered.
Ronec laughed. ‘Call it that if you wish. I call it sense. I knew a woman was too weak to lead and now I’ve seen the proof. Twice in a row you stayed your hand when you shouldn’t have.’
‘You have no right to do this!’
‘And how do you intend to stop me?’
Ronec looked around at the men watching. Blanche realised that although Andrey was reaching for his sword and a handful of others were shifting and looking disapproving, most of the crew were standing passively and watching. Ronec had said once that the men looked to him as a leader and he was right. She would get no support from them.
‘I’m taking control of the ships, and you are coming with me now.’
He pulled on her arm to lead her away. Fury blinded Blanche. It didn’t matter now that she had intended to give up anyway. She would die before relinquishing control to Ronec and fight to the end before letting him take her. She reached awkwardly behind her back with her free hand and pulled out the slender dagger from her belt. She swung it wildly upwards, hoping to strike deep in his throat, but she was not using her usual hand and the blow caught him across the centre of the chest, slicing the flesh rather than stabbing as the tip raked upwards. Ronec cried out as blood seeped from the cut. It was not deep enough to do any damage. Blanche twisted round and drove the blade into his shoulder, feeling the hardness of bone.
Ronec let go of her wrist with a roar of pain and pushed her away. He pulled the knife free then delivered a backhanded blow to the face that felled Blanche. Everything went quiet then started to buzz. She barely had time to recover before he aimed a kick at her face and she had to roll, shielding her face with her arms before he struck. His second blow caught her in the stomach, knocking the breath from her and making her feel sick with pain.
‘Bitch! Whore!’
Andrey drew his sword and rushed forward.
‘No. Don’t,’ she wheezed. Someone had to look after the castle and her people. If Andrey was taken too, or worse, Blanche would be completely friendless. ‘I’ll go with him.’
Uncovering the Merchant's Secret Page 20
