“Nor will we, as long as you both behave,” Garrett said. He crooked his finger at Miranda again. “Search him. I want no surprises.”
Miranda walked around the table, her breasts undulating within the thin white blouse, her hips swaying provocatively beneath the bright blue taffeta. Her amber eyes locked unwaveringly on Duncan’s as she approached, and there was undisguised sensuality in the motion of her hands as she ran them down his ribs, around to his back, down the inside and outside of his lean thighs. By the time she finished the search, the knives were on the table, the gun was tucked into the waist of her skirt, and there was a half-smile pulling at the corners of her mouth.
“You came alone?” Garrett asked impatiently. “I specifically sent the invitation for two.”
“Two?” Duncan feigned ignorance. “You expected Davey to return in the condition he was in?”
“Do not play games with me, Duncan,” Garrett snarled. “Where is he? Where is the Yankee bastard who did this to me?” He raised the pink and shiny gnarl of flesh that should have been his right hand, and added quietly, “I owe him.”
“I presume you mean this Ballantine I have heard so much about? Why should I know or even care where he is? I fully expected him to be here already, although I confess I am not surprised he has failed to show. What does he care if we kill one another?”
“Dunn gave him the message? The full message? The time and the place...and who the message came from?”
“Ahh yes, your mysterious 'Englishman'. Does this mean I finally get to meet him?”
“He was more interested in seeing Ballantine.”
“Then he will have to make other arrangements, I expect.” Duncan said, letting a trace of irritation scrape into his voice. “Frankly I am more interested in what the hell you two are trying to prove here tonight by kidnapping my daughter and holding her to ransom.”
“I am not trying to prove anything,” Garrett snarled. "It is a perfectly honorable part of our profession, is it not? Kidnapping? Is that not why you kept all this—" he waved the stump airily to indicate the warehouse— “so secret? She would have been kidnapped long before now if word of your little empire here was common knowledge. Your very legitimate, lawful business empire. Built on the sweat and blood of the brethren you left behind to die on the beach at Snake Island and in the harbor at Moknine.”
Duncan's eyes glittered darkly. “And of course the irony is that you escaped both traps equally unscathed. I could ask how you managed to find your way here despite the efforts of the American navy...and your own treachery."
Garrett held up the stump of his arm again and hissed. "I paid a high price. You, on the other hand, look as though you just came from a Sunday church meeting."
“If he will not ask, I will," Miranda interjected archly. “Garrett said you were trapped at Moknine. He said the Goose was in flames, escape was as impossible as any attempt at rescue.”
“The powder magazine took a direct hit,” Duncan nodded, answering more for Courtney's benefit than Miranda. “I remember being blown overboard when she went up, but not much after that. I must have been carried away by the current, because when I came to again, I was clinging to a spar and could not see another soul alive anywhere around me, nor a ship in sight, friendly or otherwise. I drifted for two days before I was finally able to work my way ashore, and once there, I started walking eastward, hoping to run into a friendly village or encampment. I walked for seven days. I remember cursing the flies and cursing the sun, and falling down so many times my knees were raw to the bone. The next solid memory I have is of waking up in a sheepskin tent with half a hundred Bedouins outside it debating my fate.”
“You obviously got away from them,” Miranda said dryly.
“I helped the debate along by offering them enough gold to pay for their winterings for the next ten years or so. All they had to do was take me to Algiers.”
“So you could get on a ship and sail cleanly away, while we were taken captive on board a warship bound for Gibraltar and the hangman’s gibbet.”
"No one was more surprised than me to hear that Snake Island had been attacked and destroyed. My hope was, once they transported the prisoners to Gibraltar, they would want to create a sensation with public trials and long prison sentences. There would be time to find some way to either break you out or buy your freedom. But of course, none of that was necessary, thanks to the Falconer’s intervention.”
“Intervention that cost me my ship and my crew,” Garrett growled.
“Your ship?”
“Law of the sea, Duncan. You abandoned her.”
“And you lost her within a week to a handful of half-starved, unarmed Americans.” Duncan countered.
“They had weapons,” Garrett declared, surging to his feet, his hand balled into a fist.
“One in particular? A weapon named Ballantine?” Duncan’s gaze reverted to Courtney. “As I understand it, he stole several things from you, and not all of them through violence. But I am a forgiving man. Release Courtney, and I will buy you a fleet of ships to replace the Falconer.”
“A fleet, is it now?” Garrett scoffed. “Her value has gone up considerably."
“Let Courtney go," Duncan said evenly, "and it will end here and now."
Garrett hesitated, his fist still raised, his eyes glittering.
“You cannot possibly believe him,” Miranda said scornfully. “He would never let you walk away unscathed. Not after you have touched his precious daughter. We started something, damn you, now we have to see it through. Tell him. Tell him!”
Duncan looked at her with mild amusement. “Your loyalty is touching, my dear. Almost as touching as Garrett’s.”
“Loyalty?” she spat. “I gave you four good years of my life and what did I get in return? Did you ever treat me with respect? Did you ever treat me like anything other than your whore? Did you ever once touch me with gentleness or kindness? Did you ever once consider me part of your life?”
Duncan stared at her a long moment, at the tears of indignation that were gathering along the fringe of her lashes. He raised his hands and clapped slowly and deliberately, the sound echoing like a thunderclap in the room. “Bravo. A fine performance. And one that might have worked had I not known that you bedded any man who waved a trinket before you. Yes, I used you, Miranda. And if I treated you like a whore it was because you never acted like anything other than a whore.”
Miranda bared her claws and started to push past Garrett, but the corsair’s stump shot out and held her back.
“We have no time for this,” he said angrily. “Did you bring gold? Yes or no?”
The dark green eyes moved lazily to his. “No. But I brought something just as good.”
Duncan’s hand moved toward a breast pocket, and Garrett snatched up the gun, fully cocked, the muzzle aimed between Duncan’s eyes.
“Documents,” Farrow explained easily. “In my pocket. No tricks.”
Garrett’s eyes narrowed, and he followed the progress of Duncan’s thumb and forefinger as they reached beneath the coat.
“There is a letter to my barrister here, giving you access to all of my assets and funds. There is a deed to my property, bills of sale for my land, my businesses. All quite legal and irrevocable. They only require two signatures.”
Garrett was instantly suspicious. “I know nothing of legal papers. Nor do I trust them. Fancy words and fancy seals; how do I know it is not a trap or a lie? How do I know you own everything that you claim, that it is not just words on paper?”
“You gave me less than twenty-four hours to make arrangements. The documents are real. You have my word on it. But they are not valid or legal without my signature, something you will not have until my daughter is cut free and well away from here.”
"Father, no," Courtney began, but the look in Duncan's eyes cut her off.
Garrett dragged the stump of his hand across his upper lip to remove the sweat, then nodded at Miranda, “Do it. Cut her free.”
“W
hat?”
“You heard me. I said cut her free!”
Miranda planted her hands on her hips and glared at Garrett, her eyes blazing with fury, but in the end she crossed to the chair where Courtney sat and began to pick at the bloodied knots of twine that bound her wrists. Duncan watched her for a moment, then glanced cynically at Garrett.
“Odd you should use the word ‘trap’ so freely. Out of curiosity, how much did the Americans pay you to set up the rendezvous at Moknine?”
Garrett’s head whipped around. “What? Me? Pay me? Are you mad?”
“I have had a great deal of time to think through the coincidences that have been plaguing us over the past eighteen months: the Americans knowing where to intercept the grain boats we were smuggling through the blockade at Tripoli; the Americans sending a warship instead of a sloop to patrol a harbor where we make regular supply purchases; the Americans knowing where and how we were to meet with Karamanli’s envoy; knowing the correct sequence of the signal lamps; knowing enough to have three gunboats waiting to block the mouth of the bay.”
“Damn your eyes, Duncan Farrow! Are you accusing me of betraying us all?"
“You made the initial arrangements.”
“And I was as surprised to see those gunboats as you were!”
“Were you? Is that why, when we did manage to break out—thanks to Davey Dunn who, coincidentally, now carries your bullet in his shoulder—is that why you let the Goose go out alone to meet them!”
The shock of the accusation drained the color from Garrett’s cheeks. “A boom,” he whispered hoarsely. “I lost a studding boom. My topsails were down. I had no steerage. By the time we were clear, the Goose was aflame. The three gunboats were around her like maggots, pouring shot into her. I saw the magazine blow!”
“Aye, and I saw the wind blowing at your back, Garrett.”
The stump slammed down on the table. “I have never run from a fight in my life, Duncan Farrow! We went back! We ran one of the bloody sows to ground and we blasted her into splinters. We chased after the other two, but they were too fast; they had the wind in their teeth and they were running. We scoured that bloody harbor for hours, searching for survivors. We searched the shore; we searched the hills; we even levelled a Berber village because they had taken three of our dead boys for sport. I did not want to believe you were dead. I did not want to leave until we had found some sign of what had happened to you, but we knew the gunboats would be back and they would be bringing reinforcements. We had to leave! We did not want to, but we had to! Ask Dunn. Ask him if I did not say straight out that something smelled foul in that bay. Ask him if I did not put on all sail and head for Snake Island, suspecting some taint of treachery touched there too.”
“Or maybe you already knew it had touched and you went back to scavenge through the pieces.”
Garrett’s jaw dropped. “Duncan...for God’s sake! I am a thief, aye. A whoremonger and a cheat...but I am no Judas! I did not betray us!”
Miranda abandoned her half-hearted efforts with Courtney’s bindings and straightened slowly, her amber eyes going from one hard, strained face to the other.
Courtney took advantage of Miranda’s inattention to pull and twist the twine further. She could feel the ropes cutting deeply into her flesh, but she did not care. They were so loose, it would only take the right combination of twists and turns to break them apart. She had to be careful. She was aware of the watcher in the shadows, the one she thought of as the Voice. He was just a black shape in the darkness, but she had seen the glint of a musket barrel, and although she had tried to catch her father’s eye to warn him of the unseen threat, Duncan was too engrossed in exposing Garrett’s lies.
“Verart told me he was close to finding out who was selling us out," Duncan was saying. "It had to be someone who knew our plans, our schedules, our arrangements with Karamanli. Someone who knew the one name to use whose association with betrayal would cause more pain to me than any of the treacherous acts combined. A name out of the past that would guarantee the cooperation of the French and British, and now the Americans. You, Garrett. You had the means and the opportunity. You had the greed and the ambition for power.”
“No!”
“You knew the code name—Seawolf—that would trigger memories of the past, open doors, loosen purse strings.”
“No, damn you, listen to me—”
“You knew I was getting out. You knew our days were numbered and we would have to scatter soon or be swept up in the same net the Americans were using to capture our brethren all along the coast. No more raids, no more prize ships, no more profits in the slave markets. You knew about what I had here...and you thought of a way to have it all, even my daughter."
“No! I knew about this—" Shaw gestured angrily with the stump to indicate the warehouse. “Aye, and I will even admit to some envy, for you know full well how quickly a coin falls through my pocket, but—”
“You wanted my ships; you wanted my daughter, my mistress. I just never dreamed you would go to such lengths to get them. I never thought you would betray your own kind. The law of the sea, Garrett,” he hissed. “Remember it? Our law? Absolute loyalty to your own kind.”
“It was not me, you bastard. It was not me!” Garrett’s chest was heaving, his brow streaming sweat.
“And none of this was your doing either?” Duncan snarled, his eyes going dark and cold. “The kidnapping? The ransom demand? Whose idea was it if not yours?”
Garrett’s eyes flicked wildly to Miranda. “You said it would be easy. You said we could do it without anyone getting hurt.”
“Shut up, you fool,” Miranda cried. “Can you not see what he is doing? He is accusing you on purpose. He wants you blind and stupid so he can prove he is smarter than you. Do not listen to him, for God’s sake. We are so close...so close to having it all!”
“Not this way! Not if it brands me a Judas!”
“You are not the Judas,” she said harshly. “He is twisting the facts to make everyone look at everyone else but himself. Did you not hear what he said? Were you not listening? The British have known him as Seawolf since he worked with them to smuggle aristocrats out of France to safety. He is the one who is afraid of being exposed for betraying us, and for all we know he is guilty. How else did he get all of this? Look at him, Garrett, then look at yourself. Tell me who gained the most by selling us out!”
Garrett looked haltingly at Duncan, but Duncan, suddenly, had eyes only for Miranda. His face had become like a terrible stone mask.
“How did you know?” he asked quietly. “How did you know I worked with the British before?”
Miranda stared at him, the amber cat’s eyes flickering, showing a trace of uncertainty for the first time. “Wh-what? Why...you told me. You bragged about it, about your exploits in France, about working with the British—”
“No.” Duncan shook his head slowly. “I never told you anything about France. I never told anyone about France.”
Miranda’s tongue darted across her lips to moisten them. Her gaze was locked to Duncan’s. Her breath was backed up somewhere in her throat. “Of course you told me. How else would I know about it?”
Duncan took a deep breath and cursed it free. “The ledgers. The old logbooks. The letters from my wife."
"Wh-what are you talking about?"
"I caught you reading them one day. You said you found them in my desk—" his eyes narrowed and he took an ominous step toward her— "but they were not in my desk. They were always kept in a locked box along with the codes and routes the British used to smuggle nobles out of France.”
“Then that must be it,” she said with annoyance. “So what of it? If I read some old love letters, what does it prove?”
“It proves you knew the code name Seawolf. You had access to charts and maps as well. You listened in on discussions, you knew our plans, knew our ways and means of communicating with Tripoli. You knew our signals, our contacts along the Barbary Coast...goddamn you knew the
location of most of the camps, the ones that have been attacked and cleaned out one by one over the past few months. Snake Island was the last stronghold. Impregnable with a full force of men, and with both ships there to defend it, but with the ships away at Moknine, sailing into their own trap—”
“What is he saying?” Garrett demanded, his shock genuine. “What have you done?”
“He is saying nothing! I have done nothing! Garrett, do not listen to him! Would I betray you? Would I betray the only people who ever gave me a home and welcomed me into their midst?”
“Aye,” Garrett said without a moment's pause. “If the price was right, you would betray your own mother. Now give us the truth, girl. The truth, and it may not go as hard on you.”
Miranda looked from one cold face to the other and then to the watcher in the shadows. He was smiling. He was enjoying the show immensely. She could hope for no support from that quarter, despite all that she had done for the bastard, all that she had endured.
Miranda reached into the waistband of her skirt and withdrew the pistol. With her free hand, she grabbed a fistful of Courtney’s hair and jerked back on it so the muzzle was pressed into the stretched skin of her neck. “Get back! Both of you get back or I swear I will kill her.”
Duncan had taken an instinctive step forward when he saw the pistol, but halted at the sight of it digging into Courtney’s flesh.
“Miranda, let her go.”
“Let her go? When I have come so far, gone to such lengths for the sheer pleasure of seeing the pair of you squirm the way you are squirming now? What is the matter, Duncan? Does she remind you so much of your brave and valiant Marguerite?”
Duncan’s lips started to curl back over his teeth in a snarl, but the curse was forestalled by a bitter laugh from Miranda.
“I was never as clean, or as pure as your martyred French wife, but I made you cry out her name time and time again—did you know that? Did you know that was what drove me to read those damned letters...the ones you took out when you did not think I was looking; the ones you sobbed over and held against your breast. I wanted to know who this goddess of virtue was that you worshipped with your heart and soul, and left nothing for me but contempt. And you—" the amber eyes flashed to Garrett— “you, with your bragging and your boasting, your lofty plans of gaining a fortune and sharing it with me...you had no intention of sharing anything with me. You only wanted what you could not have, and you could not have her.”
Wind and the Sea Page 50
