“Be careful, my lady,” Celia whispered.
Jenna had told her the reason for the transformation while Celia was helping her. “There is no danger.”
“If anyone knows wha’ ye are doing, ye will be ruined.”
“No one will know,” Jenna said, though that familiar apprehension fluttered in her stomach again. “I must do it.”
“I wish I could go with ye.”
Guilt rushed through Jenna. She should have known that Celia would think first of her.
In the past month, her entire life had been turned inside out. All her life, she’d felt inconsequential. It was only when she boarded the Charlotte that she began to feel the heady sense of freedom, and then on the Ami she’d learned what it was to feel being of worth.
But Celia looked at her with fear in her eyes, and apprehension, and something like real affection.
Jenna hugged Celia. “Thank you,” she said. “Thank you for being my friend.”
Celia’s cheeks reddened.
“I will be back soon,” she said.
“Godspeed, my lady.”
Jenna glanced once more at Meg, then went out the door and down the corridor to the companionway. She had to go up sideways to accommodate her hoop and even then it swayed upward, revealing much of her stockinged leg. She feared it would show much more when she descended into the quarter boat.
On deck, Burke dropped a coil of rope as she emerged. Mickey looked stunned. Robin’s jaw dropped open.
A small smile played across Hamish’s face. “My lady,” he said with a courtly bow.
Jenna wasn’t sure whether she should be gratified or insulted. Did she really look so terrible the rest of the time?
A frisson of pleasure shot through her despite her nervousness about the impending descent. She would truly hate to dispel those looks of admiration by falling into the sea, something entirely possible in these skirts.
Hamish eyed them cautiously as if he had the same thought. “Do ye think ye can hide a pistol under all those skirts?” he asked.
“Aye,” she said in a steady voice. At least, she hoped it was steady.
“I have a double-barreled flintlock pistol,” he said. “’Tis only six inches.”
She thought about it. “We can tie it to my leg, but it would have to be high and—” She suddenly realized she was discussing things no lady should discuss. She had intended to say under her stockings.
Hamish, strangely enough, looked discomfitted. Robin looked interested. Burke leered, or perhaps it was his natural expression.
“Just bring it to me with some bandage.”
“Aye, my lady,” Hamish said, moving faster than she’d ever seen him. No one seemed to think it strange that she was giving orders. Except, possibly, her.
He was back within minutes. She took the pistol from him and balanced it in her hands. Heavy. Then she took the bandage and disappeared around the forecastle out of sight of the men. With no little difficulty, she pulled up her skirt and petticoat with its hoop, but she needed two hands to tie the pistol to her thigh and one to hold the voluminous skirt out of the way.
Unfortunately, she had only two.
She plopped down on the deck, grateful that it was kept fairly clean and tried again. She could not ask one of the sailors to do it. Nor Robin.
She finally took off the hooped petticoat, pulled up the underpetticoat, tied the pistol to her thigh with a bandage, smoothed the underpetticoat, and fought with the hooped petticoat, finally emerging triumphant.
How she’d loved her simple dresses that required no corset, no hoop.
She stood, very aware of the extra weight attached to her leg. She checked to see that her dress covered the hooped petticoat, then stepped out to find rows and rows of seamen watching her. Word must have traveled.
They looked at her curiously. Then they all doffed their caps in something that looked like a salute.
She was embarrassed. She had never been the center of attention before, at least not in a good way. And she had not done anything. Not yet. Except, mayhap, make a total fool of herself.
Hamish stepped up to her. “We appreciate this, my lady.” Then before she could reply, he turned to Burke. “You go first and help her at the bottom.”
The taciturn seaman did so without comment, climbing down the net with the agility of a monkey. She looked over the rope railing and saw him join the eight seamen already in the boat below, all of whom were going to see a lot more than was proper.
Robin was next. Then she found herself in Hamish’s arms, her skirt and hoop sailing upward for all to see as he swung her over the railing and held her until she found her footing on the ladder.
There was nothing to be done for it. She stepped down carefully, then stood about four feet above the lightly swaying boat, her dress ballooning outward. She also knew her face must be a flaming red.
“Let’s go,” Burke called. “I’ll catch you.”
She was not sure whether she trusted him that much, but then she did not trust herself, either.
She let go.
Burke caught her and in a rustle of skirts helped her to a seat in the quarter boat.
She wasn’t sure how she would step up on the wharf.
But she would meet that obstacle as she had met the one climbing down.
She suspected the greatest obstacle would be Captain Malfour. He would not be pleased to know he had married a Campbell.
Chapter Fifteen
“Your excellency,” Jenna said in French as she was led into Governor Louis Richárds’ presence. She curtsied. “It was very good of you to see me.”
“I did not realize Captain Malfour had a wife,” the governor said, his dark eyes devouring her like a shark might a fish.
“He is a jealous man, your excellency. He may feel that you might be a threat to him. A powerful and handsome man like you.”
He visibly preened. He was not an unattractive man, and would even be handsome if he did not have such an obvious love for food and wine. His face had a red splotchy look of a man who liked the latter too much.
“I have worried about him,” she said. “We have not been married long, and you, a man of the world, must know how … sad it is to be parted.”
“Oui, madame,” he acknowledged with a gleam in his eyes. “You speak French very well.”
“Merci. My husband has taught me.”
“You are Scottish?”
“Oui.”
“One of the refugees?”
“Non, your excellency. Not refugees. Not in your fine country. We were befriended by the Duc d’Estaige, who helped finance our voyage,” she said, remembering a name she’d heard mentioned—and cursed—by her father and his British friends. It was, she knew, an influential French name, and a man who had financially supported Prince Charles. “He will be most appreciative of all the help you have given us. But then we share much, do we not? We have a common enemy. But I feel my husband has lingered too long. ’Tis the grape, I am sure. He does have a tendency to indulge too much. So I came to ask for your help.” She had said her little speech without a pause, thus denying him the opportunity to interrupt.
“We too enjoy his company,” the governor said, his gaze darting away from hers. “We did not realize we would be detaining him from such a lovely wife.”
“You are too kind,” she said. “I shall report back to the duc that you have been ever so kind and helpful. I am sure he will find a way to express his gratitude. And in the meantime, may I see my husband? I do wish to scold him for not bringing me ashore to meet you.”
He looked uncertain.
“Are you married, your excellency?” She was babbling. But she had no idea what to say to him.
Still, he was listening. “Oui.”
“Then you know a wife would miss her husband. And feel safe with him, and … and …” She hesitated. “Will you convince him to return to the ship, that his duty lies there … with me?” She fingered the emerald necklace. “I would b
e ever so grateful.”
She was trying to give him a way to retreat from keeping the captain prisoner while indicating she had far more influence than, of course, she had. In truth, she had absolutely none.
He dithered, but his gaze did not leave her necklace. “That is a fine emerald,” he said.
“An admirer in France gave it to me.” Again, she left the impression that it was someone with sufficient money and power to give her such a gift. In reality, it was a family heirloom. At least her family was proud enough not to want to send her to Barbados with nothing.
She saw the intended worry flit across his face. Had he made a mistake in holding the captain? She could almost see him weigh the possibilities: trouble with the English or the ruination of his career.
“May I just see my husband?” she pleaded. “I know he might feel that I will scold him for his neglect, but you are a sophisticated man and …” She allowed tears to form in her eyes. It was not difficult. She was terrified. Was she overplaying? Would she make it worse?
Jenna dismissed the persistent fear of losing everything—her future, her reputation, what little regard her family had for her. She had gone this far.
For the children. And oddly, for a man who had shown her more acceptance and compassion as an enemy than her family ever had.
That was the most frightening thought of all.
The governor hesitated, then brightened. “You and your husband can join us for supper. I will inform my wife.”
“May I see him first?” she said, not sure at all how the captain would react to being informed he suddenly had a wife. “I have … news to tell him.”
His eyes widened. There was no mistaking her meaning.
“I have been waiting,” she said, “but now I think it is time.” Jenna wondered again if she was going too far. And yet she felt as though she was succeeding.
Was it just wishful thinking? A desperation to be useful?
“Ah, but you can do that later. First I would like you to meet my wife. You and she have something in common. Especially now.”
Common? Her heart sank. Obviously he meant children. Also obviously he had not yet decided a course of action. Giving him time to think was not in her plan.
“You will have pity on a poor wife,” she said desperately, afraid of what might happen if she did not first warn the captain. “I am so anxious …”
The governor regarded her for a moment, then went to the door and opened it. He said something almost inaudible to one of the soldiers standing outside, then returned. “Will you join me for a small refreshment, Madame Malfour?”
The lingering fear turned to sheer panic. What if the captain had been summoned? What would be his reaction?
But she tried her best to hide it. “You are very kind, your excellency.”
“I have some magnificent sherry,” he said.
She had never had anything but watered wine. She certainly did not want to befuddle her mind now. “Thank you,” she said, “but I have been ill.…”
“Of course,” the governor said as he poured himself a large glass of what looked like brandy from the top of a buffet.
“You must tell me of Paris,” he said. “It has been a long time.”
She tried not to blanch. She had never been to Paris. She had never been anyplace outside her home in Scotland until she had journeyed to London. She tried to remember the books she’d read, even as she kept an eye on the door.
The Holy Ghost, what had she done?
“It is very grand.” She started with something she thought innocuous. Every city was grand to her.
“And the salons? Which did you visit?”
She hoped her face did not go white as her heart stopped pumping. “La, so many,” she said. “With the prince in residence, the city was lively.” She hesitated, then added, “Perhaps I will have a small taste of that sherry.”
That, at least, would occupy him for a few moments.
“I miss it,” he said, as he went back to the buffet. “The colonials, well—”
A knock at the door, then it opened.
The pirate captain stood in the doorway, his expression glowering, the perpetual smile on his face turned into a frown. She watched as his gaze went from the governor to her, and back again.
She ran over to him and threw her arms around his neck. “Darling,” she said. “I have missed you so much, you naughty man.”
She felt his hesitation as she looked up at him. His eyes were cloaked as he glanced from her to the governor and back. Then his arms went around her waist and he squashed her to him. She felt the tension in his body, then the quick reaction as part of his anatomy pressed into her.
He bent his head and his lips touched hers. Touched, then scorched. They devoured hers, just as his arms drew her even closer. For a moment, she was senseless, even drugged with sensations that were dizzying. His lips ground fiercely against hers, and against all reason she melted against him. She knew he was playing her game, pretending when he despised her, yet a warm, honeyed feeling flowed through her as she responded in a way that was terribly wanton. Her hands went to the back of his neck as she returned kiss for kiss.
He broke the kiss and raised his head, his eyes unguarded and smoldering for a small second in time. She saw something else in his expression.
Curiosity.
Admiration?
He slowly released his grip on her as if he were reluctant to allow even air between them.
“I told the governor I must see you,” she said in soft ragged tones she didn’t have to pretend. Her body was singing from his touch, every part of her echoing with sensation from the encounter. “I did not tell you before, husband, but we are to have a child, and you …” She stopped, and allowed tears to come to her eyes. It was not difficult.
Not so much as a flicker of surprise crossed his expression. Instead, he bent and kissed her forehead. “What wondrous news,” he said.
“Now will you come back to the ship? A pox with business. I have missed you so.”
“Ah, sweetling. If only I had known,” he said, his arm still around her.
Dear God, but he was quick. Far quicker than she would have been. But then he was a thief and a murderer, and duplicitous.
“Will you come with me, tonight?”
Malfour looked away. This time at the governor.
“I have asked Madame Malfour—and you—to sup with me tonight. You did not tell me you had such a beautiful wife.”
Jenna saw the captain’s gaze turn back to her, saw the surprise in his eyes at the governor’s description. A part of her cringed inside. He had seen her imperfections. He had obviously been acting the part every bit as much as she.
“She is beautiful,” he answered carefully.
“She tells me you have important friends in Paris. You did not share that information with me.”
“I do not brag, your excellency, nor trade on friendships.”
“Perhaps you should, or we would not have unfortunate misunderstandings.”
She felt him tense.
“I too would like to avoid such unpleasant circumstances,” the captain said. “I wish to keep your friendship.”
“I—we—have enjoyed your company today and are pleased that you agreed to accept our hospitality.”
“It has been … quite informative,” the captain said.
Jenna looked at the governor. He was suddenly nervous. But still he continued. “I hope you will tell your friends at court that I provided every courtesy.”
Jenna was aware of the captain’s gaze moving back to her, heated and probing. She did not know whether it was of anger or approbation or something else.
“Of course,” he said easily. “Especially if I can finish my business on the morrow and leave on the evening tide.”
“Such a rush,” the governor said. “There are a few financial matters, but we shall leave that until later. In the meantime, I would like you and your wife to join us for supper.”
“I would be honored,” the captain said, “but I would also like to see my wife alone.”
“Of course,” the governor said, all accommodation now that he’d decided that his fate rested more with the Malfours than with the English.
“My first mate would like to return to the ship.”
“I will, of course, make the arrangements.”
The captain bowed, then put his arm around her shoulder and guided her toward the door. She felt the weight of it and the control behind it.
“In an hour,” the governor said.
Captain Malfour nodded. “It will be our pleasure,” he said graciously.
He kept his arm around her as they ascended a grand stairway, then walked down a hall to a room where one man stood guard. He looked at them curiously, then stepped aside.
The captain kept one hand on her as he opened the door.
Claude sat at a table with a deck of cards in front of him. He looked up, then stood so abruptly that the chair crashed behind him.
The captain shut the door behind him, then turned to face her. “What in the hell …?”
Claude too had moved to stand before her. His brows were drawn with puzzlement. “My lady—?”
“It was the only way,” she started to explain. “The French would not allow anyone to see you and we thought perhaps a wife …” She looked up at the captain. “You did not look surprised. I feared—”
“I have stopped being surprised by anything lately,” he said. “But why did you do this?”
“Meg,” she said simply. “She wants you back. Robin and Burke came with me, but they kept Burke at the wharf.”
“And Robin?”
“I do not know. He disappeared.”
“Does the governor know who you are?” he asked.
“That I’m a Campbell?”
“Aye.”
“Nay. He just believes I am your wife.”
“I did not know you were such a good actress.”
“Neither did I.”
“You are a little fool. Do you know what this will mean if anyone learns who you really are? You will be in as much danger from England as I am, not to speak of destroying forever your chance of marriage.”
His words, coldly spoken, were like daggers to her heart. She had not expected gratitude. She had, in truth, expected anger. He would not want her help. And she had been right.
The Diamond King Page 19
