The Diamond King

by Patricia Potter

  He finally came out, shaking his hair. He took off his shirt and she saw the scars again. He was thinner than he had been, but color had returned to his face. He looked wild and restless and dangerous.

  They decided to rest overnight. They would have to move away from the river, according to the priest, since there was river traffic. That also meant there would be no fire tonight. Their clothes would have to dry on their bodies. No fish tonight, either, unless they ate it raw, and Jenna was not that hungry.

  She sat next to Alex, praying that it would not be cold tonight.

  “How many more days?” he asked the priest.

  “We should reach a village tomorrow night. A fishing boat can sail you to the island. A day. No more.”

  “My thanks for all your help,” Alex said, knowing the words were inadequate. They could have taken the diamonds and the money at any time. Instead, they had placed themselves in danger for him and his friends.

  “You can repay us by returning. My people need your help.”

  Alex hesitated. He was not going to lie to this man, and now he had personal business to settle before he could do anything else. “Someone will. You have my word on it.”

  The priest frowned. “I thought …”

  “I have people I must get to safety first,” Alex said. “With the treaty, I—and they—could be hunted. But I have a partner in France who is eager for a steady source of diamonds, and Claude, my first mate, and Marco …” He looked toward Marco in question, and the man nodded. “And Marco speaks your language. He will be back.” He suddenly smiled, his teeth white through the darkness of the new whiskers. “And you never know when I might appear.”

  The priest nodded.

  “We will finish our business tomorrow?” Alex asked.

  “If you still have the funds.”

  “Burke has the gold,” Alex said. “Thank God he was in the second canoe.”

  The priest raised one thick eyebrow, but said nothing else. Instead, he offered Alex some of his prepared mixture. “I will give you some of the powder to take when you leave.”

  “Obrigado,” Alex said.

  “De nada,” the priest said in reply to his words of thanks. “You are learning Portuguese,” the priest said.

  Alex nodded. “Where will we find you again?”

  “Through Tomas in Vitória or the fisherman to whom I am taking you. Either of them can find me. Tomas has gone ahead to the village. He will bring some mules for you and your lady.”

  His lady. If only … If only the sun did not disappear at night.

  The priest disappeared then through the forest. He seemed at one with it, and had no fear of its dangers.

  Jenna shivered and wished for a comb, but that too had been lost when the canoe had tipped over. Instead, she combed her hair with her fingers.

  “I think I want to do what Meg did,” she said.

  “And what’s that, lass?”

  “Cut if off.”

  He looked stunned. “Nay, lass. It is lovely.”

  “Not now.”

  “We will be back to the ship soon. Then you can wash it all you want.”

  “And then what?”

  “It’s not safe to go directly back to France,” he said. “The British will be expecting that and probably patrolling its coast now that there is peace.”

  She watched his face, waiting for him to continue.

  “I’ve been thinking about going to Louisiana. It’s in southern America. Once there, we can make enough changes in the Ami to get her—and the diamonds—back to France.”

  “And you? Will you go back then?”

  “Nay, I think not. The other children are settled in good homes. I will send some money back for them, but I think Robin and Meg will be safer, and happier, in New Orleans. It’s French, but a long reach from London.”

  “And me?”

  His eyes darkened. Or perhaps it was the nightfall that made them seem to glitter.

  “You can still go to Barbados,” he offered.

  “I think not,” she said coolly. “I would rather be a governess or—”

  “Nay,” he said. “You would not make a good servant. You are too stubborn. You would be dismissed in a day.”

  “It was what I planned if Mr. Murray and I did not suit.”

  “’Twas not a very practical plan.”

  “I did not used to be stubborn. You seem to inspire it.”

  “No one could tame you,” he said, his eyes sparking with something she had not seen for much too long. Five days, to be truthful. “I will give you whatever you need to establish yourself. You can go to Boston or Philadelphia. New York.”

  Jenna was insulted. “Nay. I need nothing from you,” she said.

  Obviously reluctant, he hesitated again. “What if I employed you to care for the children?”

  “In New Orleans?”

  “Aye. I can visit there.”

  “Visit?”

  “Aye.”

  But he would not stay. Because she would be there. He did not have to say that. He would give up the children—and a safe haven—to ensure that she and the children were safe.

  “I will think about it.”

  “Before we reach the ship,” he said. Not a question but a demand.

  “Aye.”

  He unwound himself and stood. Without looking back, he limped out of sight.

  She had been outraged. Alex knew that. He should have never offered her money, but he wanted to make certain she would be safe. Keeping her with the children would assure that. And she would be good for them, and them for her.

  He did not know why he’d waited to make that particular proposition. He’d wanted to give her choices. Opportunities. He should have known she would accept none of them. Except possibly for the last one.

  And that would be both hell and heaven for him.

  No matter how hard he tried, he could not believe he would ever be good for her. He had lost his soul, had become everything that he hated. And that did not even address his physical problems, nor the fact that his face was marked for life. He could never go on British territory without risking his life and that of anyone with him.

  He had to settle the matter before he saw Meg and Robin again. He had to know that they and Jenna would be safe. Perhaps once that happened he could continue the diamond smuggling himself, rather than turn it over to Claude.

  But first she had to agree.

  At dawn, two men in white shirts and trousers appeared with three mules.

  The priest bestowed a self-satisfied smile on them. “One for the captain, one for his lady, and one for me,” he said. “We will make better time.”

  Jenna thought heaven had just opened. Her shoes were wet and in tatters and she had several blisters she’d tried to hide. The mules, while rather pitiful compared to her father’s fine horses, were as grand to her as the grandest of his prized steeds.

  Alex saw her expression and even he grinned. He went over to her and interlocked his fingers to help her mount. She put her hand on his shoulder. Felt its strength. He was so unaware of it. Unaware of his basic decency. Unaware of his core power. And nothing she could say would convince him of that. Raw longing made her hand linger.

  He did not pull away. Instead, he took her hand. “There is not another woman alive like you.” It wasn’t said in an “I have to have you” tone but more with regret.

  She did not know what she should say. Or maybe she did. She just did not think he would accept it. So she merely removed her hand to the mule’s shoulder. At the moment, she saw a lot in common between the animal and man.

  Alex looked at the fishing boat with trepidation. It looked as flimsy as the canoes that had overturned.

  He avoided Jenna’s gaze. He did not want to see fear again. God knew she had experienced enough fear in these past few months to turn anyone else into a raving madwoman.

  The ship obviously leaked. It had a shallow draft, and its sails were small and tattered. One good wind and th
ey would all go to the bottom of the sea.

  It smelled of rotten fish.

  But then, probably, so did he.

  “My ship?”

  “There are a hundred islands around here, and many hidden bays,” the priest said. “It has always been the pirate’s sanctuary. My friends know most of them. They can find your ship. Unfortunately I must stay here. I become very ill aboard ship.” He took out a bag from his robe. “The remainder of the diamonds.”

  Alex opened the bag and poured the contents into his hand. A rainbow of colors. Blue. Gray. Green. Amber.

  “Jenna.”

  She had been talking to Mickey, but went immediately to him and looked at the contents in his palm. She picked up one blue stone that caught the rays of the sun and it glimmered. It was magnificent.

  She dropped it back in his hand.

  “Nay,” he said. “It is yours. You have earned it.”

  “But it belongs to all the crew.”

  “It will be part of my share, and you have done as much—if not more—than any crew member. We would still be in Martinique were it not for you.”

  “Keep it for me,” she said.

  His gaze held hers. “I will.”

  He turned to Burke, and nodded. The man took a pouch that had been tied around his waist and covered by a now ragged shirt. He tossed it to the priest, who dropped it into the folds of his robe.

  “You are not going to count it?”

  “Is it necessary, senhor?”

  “Nay.”

  “Then it is done. There are more stones like this.”

  Alex did not doubt that for a moment. He had stopped wondering at the resources at the priest’s fingertips. He seemed to claim uncommon loyalty, but then he would. He had no riches himself, and his one concern seemed to be buying the freedom of others. A little smuggling was apparently justified for the good it accomplished. He was beginning to revise his opinion of godliness.

  “You will pray for this ship?” he asked with more than a little irony.

  “I would not lose my means to an end,” the priest replied wryly.

  “That is enough for me,” Alex said. “Jenna?”

  He already knew the answer.

  “It is enough for me, too,” she said, and held out her hand for help in boarding. This time it was to Marco she turned, not to Alex.

  He should have been gratified. Wasn’t it what he wanted?

  He hoped he wasn’t glowering on the outside as much as he was on the inside.

  One day in the leaking boat hadn’t sounded too bad to Jenna. But then she’d discovered that nothing about this adventure was easy.

  There was no shelter. The boat smelled terrible and it lumbered through the calm sea like she imagined an elephant would. Each dip made her think there would not be a rise. But surprisingly, the boat continued to surface again, water spraying all its occupants.

  The boat, which she certainly did not consider a ship, bobbed and wove past small patches of land. She hoped each would be the last, even though it meant she had to make decisions she did not want to make. Fishermen with nets kept watch, but all they saw were other small fishing vessels.

  What if the Ami was gone? No, the Isabelle, as it was now named. But it would always be the Ami to her, just as she thought it would always be to Alex. What if it had been captured? Or had headed back to France, believing that they were dead or imprisoned?

  Alex stared straight ahead, his stance restless, his gaze constantly sweeping the sea. He still had the weeks’-old beard. It was thick and bristly and yet it added to his attraction. Untamed. Unconquered. He was both and always would be.

  A shout came from above. It was in Portuguese and she did not understand the word, yet she knew the meaning.

  A ship had been sighted. Curiosity, even trepidation, urged her toward Alex. He was peering out in the direction a crewman was pointing.

  “The British?” she asked.

  He listened closely to the chatter above. He could make out some words. Not all. He caught enough to understand it was a Portuguese government vessel.

  The diamonds aboard could convict them all. If, that was, they were not turned over to the British.

  “We cannot outrun them,” he said.

  “How far?”

  “An hour away. Not much more.”

  The crew of the boat was frantically working what sails there were.

  Her heart thumped so hard she thought Alex would hear it. They had come so far …

  She turned to Marco.

  He gave her a wicked, delighted grin. He seemed to enjoy trouble. “Do not worry, lady. When they are not fishing, they are smuggling.”

  But the speck she had barely been able to see grew larger and larger.

  The fishing boat headed directly for a ribbon of water that ran between two islands. But it was like a hare and a tortoise, and the fishing boat was very definitely the tortoise. She watched as the hare gained on them. Then there was a shot that splashed just short of the ship. She was becoming accustomed to the sound.

  Alex gave her a quick look. There was no place on this boat to hide. No way he could protect her here. They could not surrender. The lives of the fishermen were as much at risk as their own.

  Instead, Alex grabbed some lines and helped turn the ship in the wind.

  Another shot. Water splashed up and drenched her. They passed between the islands. The wind caught the sails but it also caught those of the larger ship. Still another shot landed only feet from the ship.

  Alex gave the ropes to someone else, and turned toward her, clasping her tight in his arms as if he could guard her from a cannonball. She leaned into his embrace, feeling the comfort in it, the protectiveness. He leaned his head against her hair, whispering to her, but she could not hear for the rapid speech of the crew.

  She heard an elated shout, then another, and looked back at the pursuing ship. The shrinking figures had abandoned the cannon as the ship came to a complete stop. Even from the distance, she heard a crashing sound as the ship hit a reef and foundered.

  Alex looked down at her and released an indrawn breath. Then he leaned down and kissed her.

  His arms tightened as if he would never let her go as their small craft lumbered to safety.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Alex felt a heave of relief as its tall masts of the Ami came into sight, the ship anchored in a protected harbor on the leeward side of a large island.

  Sailors were lined on deck and when they saw him, they waved and shouted. Robin and Meg had huge grins on their faces, and his heart raced. It really was a good feeling to be missed. Claude and Hamish both saluted.

  He assisted Jenna aboard and watched as she gave both children huge hugs. Even Robin submitted to it with an abashed smile. “I missed you both,” she said in a voice that left no question of her sincerity. The children beamed.

  Then she turned to Celia, who had been watching with a wary expression until she saw the hugs and the smile on Jenna’s face. She visibly relaxed and, in turn, received a big hug.

  Alex watched the tableau with bemusement. They all belonged together. They were a family. Jenna and Meg and Robin. Even Celia.

  Then the children broke away and came over to him. Robin put out a hand in a gentlemanly fashion. “I am pleased you are safe, sir.”

  Meg stood before him. “Me, too.”

  But there was not the exuberance of their greeting with Jenna. There was affection, to be sure, probably even love, but also a reserve. That reserve hurt.

  And yet he knew he had cultivated it. He had instilled it in them, afraid of his own feelings, of an involvement of the heart.

  He stooped down and put an arm around Meg. “Your hair is growing out,” he said, damning himself for thinking of nothing better to say.

  It seemed sufficient to Meg, though. She broke out in a wide smile and hugged him hard. It was the first time she had done that, and he felt as if he had just grown two feet taller, as if his heart had opened for the f
irst time.

  Then he put an arm around Rob, saw the surprise followed by delight in the boy’s eyes.

  Two sets of arms wound around him, and he had never felt so whole.

  He finally untangled himself, understanding for the first time that he had been a coward, afraid to love or accept love, and perhaps the latter was the most difficult of all. He had thought he was being strong, when he was really being weak. It would continue to be difficult for him. One did not change overnight.

  He stood and greeted the others, particularly Claude who had waited so faithfully. Then he asked Claude for some coins. The small craft was still bobbing alongside the Ami, but obviously ready to leave. He asked them to wait until Claude returned with a small pouch of coins. Alex then climbed back down to the fishing boat. He clasped hands with the fishermen who had risked their lives for him and rewarded them with gold coins from the cabin.

  They grinned at the unexpected bonus, nodded their heads, and took his outstretched hand as he said good-bye to them.

  Once he climbed back aboard, the sails were unfurled and the ship slid from its arichorage on a course they hoped would let them evade the British and the Portuguese. He felt immense relief as well as the exhilaration as he always felt at sea.

  The children—and Jenna—watched with him at the railing until the small boat disappeared.

  Then Jenna looked down at herself, the soiled clothing, the hair tied back but knotted and dirty. “I think I will wash my hair and change clothes.” She turned and fled down the hatchway, Celia trailing behind her.

  Alex waited until they had clear seas, then went down to the first mate’s cabin he was sharing with Claude. He too needed to do something about his current state. Burke appeared and Alex asked him to take some water to Jenna, then to bring some to him. Burke, he added wryly, might want to do the same.

  Burke grimaced and disappeared. Alex wondered whether they would exhaust the water supply among the lot of them.

  Alex was in the officers’ mess, playing with a deck of cards, when Jenna appeared.