Lord of the Privateers (The Adventurers Quartet)

by Stephanie Laurens

  “Very good, Captain Frobisher.” Higginson nodded to Isobel. “It’s been a pleasure to meet you, Miss Carmichael.”

  Mrs. Frobisher. Royd bit back the words. Such a declaration might be construed by some as being a little too pushy.

  Isobel smiled and inclined her head graciously. “Until next time, Mr. Higginson.”

  Somewhat appeased by that statement, Royd ushered Isobel and Duncan out of the office and turned their steps toward the nearby coaching inn.

  Fifteen minutes later, they were rattling out on the road to London.

  * * *

  They met with Wolverstone and Melville early that evening. Royd’s message had been terse and to the point. When he and Isobel walked into the Wolverstone House drawing room, he wasn’t, therefore, all that surprised to find the company Wolverstone had assembled to hear his—their—report.

  Minerva rose to greet them. She made the introductions. Royd knew some of those there; like him, they had, at one time or another, worked with Wolverstone. Royd had crossed professional paths with Christian Allardyce, Marquess of Dearne, in the days Dearne had been one of Wolverstone’s most trusted agents, and he knew Jack, Lord Hendon, owner of Hendon Shipping, from commercial shipping circles.

  “Don’t tell me,” he said to Hendon, “that you have a covert side to the business, too.”

  Hendon humphed. “Sadly, no. There’s only one company that still sails under marque, and that’s yours. My connection comes through my days in the army.”

  It was Jack who introduced him to Major Rafe Carstairs. Royd recalled the name. “You were involved in the Black Cobra incident.”

  “Indeed. Which is why I have such an interest in this latest scheme.” Carstairs nodded at Wolverstone, now talking to Isobel. “I’m still active, but at headquarters here. As you’ve got prisoners, I suspect I might have a role to play.”

  Carstairs looked pleased at the prospect.

  Isobel chose her moment and presented Wolverstone with the captives’ petition for justice. Minerva and Dearne flanked the duke as he read the statement, then flicked through the signatures. It was Minerva who pointed out the children’s scrawls, and Isobel confirmed they had put their names to it, too.

  Wolverstone passed the petition to Carstairs and Hendon, and nodded at Royd. “That will help. I’ll have a few others look it over before I hand it to the Prime Minister. No need to further rattle Melville at this point.”

  On the heels of that comment, a tap fell on the door, then it opened, and the butler announced Melville. The First Lord of the Admiralty came walking in, his demeanor suggesting wary resignation.

  Wolverstone reclaimed the petition and set it on a sideboard. “I believe you know everyone.”

  After a quick glance around, Melville nodded.

  “Excellent.” Wolverstone waved the gathering to the grouping of chairs and sofas. “Let’s get started. From Royd’s note, I gather there’s a degree of urgency above any pressure from closer to home.”

  The last words were accompanied by a glance at Melville, who humphed and sat in one of the armchairs.

  Royd sat beside Isobel on one of the long sofas. Once everyone was settled, he commenced a dry and strictly factual account of all that had happened, and all they’d discovered, from the time The Corsair reached the estuary north of Freetown.

  During the voyage back, he and Isobel had had plenty of time to decide what to reveal, and to rehearse and refine what to actually say. He paused to allow her to describe the condition of the women and children, and also to detail the killing of the girl Daisy; Isobel had insisted that the horror of that crime would have more impact if she related it, and by the looks on the men’s faces, her assessment had been correct.

  He resumed his recitation of events. The identities and positions of Satterly, Muldoon, and Winton made Melville uneasy, but that they were now in custody and on their way to London brought him some relief.

  When Royd revealed that, in seizing the compound, they had also captured two of the financial backers of the enterprise and had established that there were four more they had yet to identify, the attention of those listening sharpened to a knife’s edge.

  “The two you captured—I take it they’re on their way here?” Wolverstone asked.

  “Yes. We’ve kept them separate from the other three.” Royd went on to detail what they’d learned about the enterprise from Satterly, Muldoon, and Winton. “There was no prospect that the scheme would ever have become a reality without the greed and the lack of morals of the six backers.”

  Wolverstone nodded. “Very well—you’ve set the stage and strung us along long enough. Who are the two backers you’ve captured?”

  Royd told them the names.

  Melville paled. He opened his mouth, shut it, then managed to croak, “Good God!”

  “Indeed.” His expression harsh, his fingers steepled before his face, Wolverstone arched his brows. “That does put rather a different complexion on things.”

  Dearne had been studying Melville. Now he switched his gaze to Wolverstone. “If Neill is an example of those Ross-Courtney recruited to this scheme, the other four are certain to be of similar ilk.”

  In obvious agitation, Melville waved his pudgy hands. “But this is dreadful! Bad enough that we must—absolutely must—pull down whoever these backers are, and publicly, too, but to be reaching so high and then not have sufficient evidence to be sure of our case!”

  “We’ll get the necessary evidence.” Wolverstone’s tone was deceptively mild. There was nothing mild about the hard glint in his eyes.

  Melville shot to his feet and started to pace—two short steps one way, two back—as he chewed on one nail. “I tell you, the government won’t stand unless we show resolve in this matter.” He shot a look at Carstairs. “Not after the Black Cobra business. And all the unrest.” He waved as if the “unrest” was both general and obvious.

  Royd paid precious little attention to politics, but from the looks on the other men’s faces, Melville’s “unrest” was, indeed, well understood.

  “We’ve already got two of them in our hands,” Dearne said. “Even if they continue to deny all wrongdoing, you may be sure we’ll find some trace.”

  “Some trail that will lead us to the other four.” Rafe Carstairs watched Melville pace. “You and the rest in the government knew this was going to involve persons of standing—that was the reason you’ve been so keen to see the mission, and the case against those involved, prosecuted, because you are all aware it’s the only way to save your political skins. And”—he held up a hand to stay Melville’s ire—“I agree that’s the only possible avenue to stave off what might otherwise be...a situation none of us would welcome.”

  Wolverstone murmured, “Well said.” His comment drew Melville’s increasingly agitated gaze. “Melville—I suggest you prepare your colleagues in the government. No matter what they wish, there is no going back—no way to sweep this under some rug and hope no one notices. Too many people already know of Ross-Courtney’s and Neill’s involvement. No matter their denials, they will need to be brought before the courts and tried under the same laws that apply to every man. There can be no special leniency shown.”

  Melville grimaced, but nodded. “I—we—know and accept that. But without sufficient evidence, how are you even going to hold Ross-Courtney, let alone Neill?”

  Wolverstone’s smile was all hard edges. “Leave that to us. We can and will hold them—and yes, it will be in secret, so as far as you or anyone in government will know, they will not even have reached England’s shores. Meanwhile, we will follow the obvious trails—the diamond merchant in Amsterdam, and from him to the banker, and so to our as-yet-unidentified four, along the way implicating all six in initiating and deriving monetary benefit from a heinous crime.”

  “There’s also the co
nnection between Ross-Courtney and Neill.” Minerva spoke for the first time. She caught her husband’s eye. “They are not friends. They might have known of each other, but they don’t move in the same circles.”

  “So they will have met somewhere, several times, along with others.” Dearne nodded. “Almost certainly at some club, so that, too, might assist us in identifying the other four.”

  “And in proving conspiracy,” Jack Hendon put in.

  Wolverstone looked at Melville. “We will get the evidence—you can rest assured of that.”

  Melville grimaced. “But all that will take time, won’t it? I accept that you can arrange to hold Ross-Courtney and Neill incommunicado, but for how long? One slip, and the whole incident will blow up in the government’s face. For pity’s sake, Ross-Courtney is one of the king’s closest confidantes!”

  “As to that,” Royd said, “there may be another way.” He considered Melville; he and Isobel had agreed not to mention the plan involving the blue diamonds until they understood more about the situation. He’d heard enough to know they definitely needed to put the plan into action. For all his fussy ways, Melville was not a fool; he wouldn’t be this agitated without reason. Royd continued, “A faster way to learn who else is involved and—with luck—get one of them to talk, and so gain the solid evidence we need to”—send all six to the gallows—“bring the six backers to justice.”

  “Assuming the other four are of the same social stratum as Ross-Courtney and Neill, then the best evidence we could get is for one of them to confess and so implicate the others.” Wolverstone held Melville’s gaze. “That would be the cleanest and neatest solution for everyone.”

  Melville drew in a tight breath, then nodded. “Yes. All right.” He paused, then said, “You’ve told me that Ross-Courtney and Neill are two of those involved, but they’re not yet on English soil, are they?”

  “No.” Royd gave Melville the statement he was angling for. “At present, they’re in transit between Freetown and London.”

  “They are not, therefore, currently under English jurisdiction and are not in a position to make any demands to see their solicitors or anyone else.” Wolverstone smiled coldly at Melville. “So at present, there is no chance of any...public difficulties from that quarter.”

  Melville was calming. He nodded. “Very well.” He looked at Royd. “So what is this faster plan?”

  Royd studied the First Lord. He and Isobel had studiously avoided any mention of blue diamonds. “With all due respect, my lord, I suspect you would rather not know.”

  Melville blinked, then he stared at Royd in some consternation. “Nothing illegal or untoward, I hope?”

  Royd smiled. “No. But if we do need to...bend a few rules, then perhaps...?”

  “Oh, indeed.” Melville held up his hands as if to ward off the notion. “You are absolutely correct—I do not need to know.” He looked around at all those present, then tugged down his waistcoat. “I realize that this sort of business is not my forte. I accept that in this matter, I must place my trust in you—in all of you.” With an unexpectedly dignified bow, he stated, “I will therefore take my leave and allow you to continue your deliberations. Ladies. Gentlemen.”

  Minerva rose; the men came to their feet as she tugged the bellpull. She walked with Melville to the door and handed him into the care of the butler. The men waited until the duchess returned and resumed her seat, then sat again.

  “Well?” Wolverstone arched an imperious brow at Royd. “You’ve teased us enough. What is this plan?”

  Royd told them.

  Isobel noted that, when Royd finished detailing how they imagined the plan would work, it was to his wife that Wolverstone turned for an initial assessment.

  Minerva’s nod was enthusiastic. “It will work. A necklace of blue diamonds? The entire ton will be agog.” She paused, then said, “The most difficult part will be getting the necklace made in time, but”—her eyes narrowed—“with the right sort of enticement delivered in the correct way, I believe we should be able to arrange it.”

  “So...” Wolverstone looked from Minerva to Isobel. “The ton and society is your battleground. How do you see this playing out?”

  Royd sat forward so he could watch their faces as Isobel and Minerva batted ideas back and forth.

  Minerva was adamant that a major ton ball was the venue of choice during which to dangle the necklace in the hopes of enticing the four unidentified backers to present themselves. She promptly volunteered to hold such a ball ten days hence, and to persuade her fellow duchess and good friend, Honoria, Duchess of St. Ives, to hold another several days later. “We need two events scheduled, because it’s entirely possible that not all four will attend my function, but they will hear about the necklace and will attend Honoria’s—I really can’t see them not wanting to set eyes on it, at least.”

  “How can you be sure to have invited them?” Jack Hendon asked.

  Minerva smiled. “We don’t need to bother our heads over that. If the four elusive backers are gentlemen of the same stripe as Ross-Courtney and Neill, once they hear about the necklace, they’ll arrive in our ballrooms, invitation or not. They’ll just arrive later, once the receiving line is done with.”

  When Dearne asked who would be best to display such a necklace, Minerva blinked, then, as if the answer should have been obvious, gestured at Isobel. “There is no one better than Miss Carmichael. We need a lady who is going to attract the eye, who can carry off such a piece with aplomb, and that Isobel is so tall is simply an added blessing. But more, she must not be anyone well known about town, yet at the same time, it needs to be obvious from her bearing and manner that she belongs within the upper echelon.”

  When all the men looked puzzled, Minerva sighed. “It’s really quite simple. If the lady our elusive but intensely curious gentlemen see at our ball is someone they know, they will wait for some other, more private time to approach her. They won’t approach her openly but will arrange some other, incidental meeting. As for her belonging to our circles, anyone who doesn’t will immediately make our gentlemen suspicious, and they might well not approach at all but watch from a distance.”

  Minerva fixed her spouse with an interrogatory look. “Am I correct in thinking that you will wish to ensure that, should anyone approach Isobel and ask about the necklace, we have several witnesses to the interaction, so it will not simply be Isobel’s word against theirs that they approached her at all?”

  Wolverstone nodded. “As we’re talking of one of yours or Honoria’s balls, then given the usual crush, we should be able to have at least one if not two others close enough to overhear any exchange.”

  Rafe Carstairs held up a hand. “I have a quibble. Won’t every lady at the ball demand to be told where Isobel got such a fabulous necklace? And once she answers...well, our gentlemen won’t need to ask themselves, will they?”

  Minerva looked at Rafe pityingly. “Really, Rafe—how long have you been on the town? I can guarantee that no lady—certainly no lady present at my or Honoria’s balls, anyway—would ever be so gauche as to actually ask Isobel where she got the necklace. You’re correct in thinking that every single lady will want to know, but not one will ask. Instead, they’ll speculate and whisper—which is precisely what we want.”

  Isobel glanced around; the men were still mulling, but there seemed to be no further questions.

  “Right, then.” Wolverstone swept his gaze over their faces. “We have three avenues to pursue. One—identifying the diamond merchant and following the trail from him to the banker, and thence to the six backers. I’ll pursue that avenue”—he cocked a brow at Hendon—“and perhaps you can assist with any information from your shipping contacts in Amsterdam. Someone must know of stones coming from Freetown.”

  Jack nodded. “I’ll put the word out.”

  “As for our second avenue�
��identifying where Ross-Courtney and Neill met, and who else attended the meetings...” Wolverstone looked at Dearne.

  The marquess nodded. “I’ll take that on and call in a few others from the club to assist.”

  Isobel wondered what club he referred to, but the duke seemed content.

  “Our third avenue—the lure of the necklace—we’ll leave in the hands of the ladies.” Wolverstone inclined his head to them both. “No doubt you’ll inform us as to when and where we will need to present ourselves as guards.”

  “Indeed,” Minerva said. “We won’t require your assistance until the night of the events, although I might contact your wives in the interim, should we require any help in the social sphere.”

  Wolverstone’s lips lifted in a faint smile, then he sobered and looked at Royd. “That leaves us to address our most pressing concern. When will Ross-Courtney and Neill arrive?”

  “They’re with Robert on The Trident,” Royd said. “And Declan has the other three on board The Cormorant. I don’t expect either ship to reach the Pool for at least three, possibly four or even five days.”

  “Good.” Wolverstone looked at Carstairs. “That gives us—or more specifically, you—time to arrange suitable accommodations.” To Isobel and Royd, he explained, “Rafe has access to army property and personnel.”

  Carstairs smiled. “Access that won’t be questioned, at least not in the short term.”

  Royd nodded his understanding. “Theoretically, we could put Satterly, Muldoon, and Winton into any of the main jails to be held pending charges and trial. However, I would suggest we shouldn’t give them any scope for changing their minds and attempting to curry favor with Ross-Courtney and Neill and their powerful friends by sending word to Ross-Courtney’s agents as to what has befallen their employer.”