by kps
Captain Banks smiled. She was a good daughter, was Carolina Lightfoot, for all she'd gone off the deep end over a buccaneer!
And watching them through a crack in the pantry door, Gilly, who had witnessed the last part of this scene, sneered to herself. There stood Captain Kells's wife, decked out in a fortune in rubies and diamonds, sending such a small and shabby gift to her mother, who apparently lived in Virginia. Not that she would send anything to her mother, no matter how rich she got-not even if she knew where her mother was, which she didn't. In jail most likely. But once she was very rich, she planned to send bright red garters to everyone she liked-she would even send a pair to Rouge in New Providence. Rouge, who would laugh and throw them away, for Rouge went barefoot mostly. Gilly yawned and let the crack of the door close, then went off to badger Cook, for whom she had formed an instant dislike. When she had the necklace, she'd buy her a house as big as this one and hire women like Cook and beat them with a stick if they dared to answer back!
Gilly couldn't wait to be wealthy-she wanted to trample the world. She was daydreaming about it and didn't even notice the package when she came in to clear the dishes and heard Carolina asking Hawks to give the good captain escort through the town-"for he's a good friend of ours, Hawks, and I wouldn't want him to get his head broken the night before he sails. See him on board safely, won't you?"
If Hawks was surprised, he did not show it. A little fellow like Captain Banks might well need protection on the nighttime streets of Port Royal. But he was surprised to find Carolina lingering about downstairs when he returned.
"Well, did you see him safe aboard, Hawks?" "Aye, that I did," he said soberly. "And his package with him."
Carolina gave Hawks a winning smile. He was as loyal to her as he had always been to Kells, she thought-more of a jewel than even those rubies that were already on board the Morning Star, carried there unwittingly by little Captain Banks.
But the stout captain had given her something to think about. Was Kells really up the Cobre shopping for a plantation? The idea had never occurred to her. She had thought he was upriver on a trading venture-or perhaps finding backers for a buccaneering voyage, for while Kells rarely took the Sea Wolf out into the sea lanes these days, he did occasionally send Lars Lindstrom-who was now captain of the Sea Wolf'S sister ship, the Sea Wench-out. and other members of his little fleet. And all these voyages had to be financed, the ships provisioned, the crews assembled, the loot divided-when there was loot, for pickings were thin now. The Spanish had grown warier.
Kells was an administrator now, she thought with a shrug. She doubted he would ever go to sea again-at least as a buccaneer. But did these trips up the Cobre mean that he was going to abandon the sea altogether and become a planter?
She could hardly wait for the week to end to find out!
Chapter 5
Kells came home from the Cobre bronzed and smiling-but his smile did not quite extend to his gray eyes. Carolina sensed a difference in him even as he swept her up into his arms for an exuberant kiss, even as he spun her about so that her wide skirts billowed out.
"Kells," she sighed against his hard chest. "Oh, it's so good to have you back!"
"Is it now?" He put her down and grinned at her, and she was caught as always by how dangerous he looked with his light gray eyes flickering in that darkly tanned face, his dark heavy hair swinging free. "And here I'd thought you might have found other interests while I was gone!"
He's heardabout Monsieur du Monde!she thought in dismay-for she had enemies as well as friends in this town, and one of them might well have told him some garbled story about what had happened.
"I'm sure whatever you've heard, it's all wrong!" her guilty conscience prompted her to say.
His hard face softened and she realized what he had said was merely careless banter. "You have brought home another stray?" he guessed humorously.
Carolina flushed a little but she tossed her fair head defiantly. "The poor girl was running down the street in terror with two of those awful women from the brothels pursuing her. I am sure they meant to beat her half to death!"
"But you intervened?" "Of course I did! She doesn't know her age but she can't be more than fifteen!"
He sighed. "What am I to do with you?" he asked whimsically. "Will you never learn that most of these street strays aren't to be trusted?"
"Well, I'm sure this one is different-and besides, look at Betts, see how well she's turned out! And Cook-well, Cook was never quite astray, was she? But you'll meet Gilly at dinner and do remember not to frown at her when she serves you from the wrong side-I'm having to correct her quite gently for she's under the impression that having worked at a tavern in Bristol, she 'serves very elegant'!"
"I'll try to remember," he promised with mock meekness.
"Come upstairs-I'm sure you'll be glad of a bath after your hot trip down the Cobre.
Why didn't you tell me you were buying a plantation up there, Kells?"
His expression, which had been gentle upon her, hardened. "Who told you that?"
"Oh, the gossips seem to know more about us than we know ourselves!" she said airily.
"You've been misinformed," he said, and there was a rippling anger in his voice-or was it something else? She couldn't be sure. "You shouldn't listen to gossip," he added sharply.
She supposed she should not-rumors certainly ripped through Port Royal at hurricane speed. She felt a sense of relief for she had not wished to live up the Cobre, but she was abashed at his tone, reproving her-for what?
"I'll have your bath brought up," she said uncertainly, and started toward the kitchen to tell Betts and Gilly to fetch hot water. "Dinner is almost ready."
"Good,"he flung over his shoulder. "We had a bit of trouble on the Cobre, bottom of the damned boat got stove in."
She paused and turned to stare up at his tall muscular figure taking the stairs three at a time. "You could have been killed!" she cried indignantly.
He stopped and grinned briefly at her over the landing. "Not likely," he said. "We were near shore. I threw a rope over an overhanging branch and maneuvered us to the riverbank where we patched her up enough to make Port Royal. But it wa scursed hot work and all our food went into the river. I'm starved!"
Thankful that at least they did not have to live up that dangerous river and make the trek up and down incessantly, Carolina shook her head in dismay and went off to order up his hot water. Then with a sober face she went upstairs to her own room to dress.
Instinctively she felt that something was wrong, though he had said nothing, and as she dressed for dinner she quickly opened the curved top trunk, which was always kept locked with a key that she wore fastened to the waist of her petticoat, and opened the false bottom. It was a shock to find the box empty-and then she remembered: it was empty because she had sent the necklace to her mother in Virginia to payoff the debts on Level Green.
She felt oddly lost without it, for she wore that necklace whenever she felt insecure, because it was not something Kells had given her, she had won it herself, earned-despite the fact that things had turned out badly after all. The necklace had been truly hers, hers to give.... And now-oh, well, she would wear the copy.
"Well, aren't we got up splendidly?" Kells greeted her with a grin when she came downstairs wearing a white gown and the glittering necklace.
"I am dressed in celebration of your return," she defended. He studied her keenly.
"But wearing the copy and not the original. Tell me, have you lost the necklace?"
She started, for she had forgotten that those keen gray eyes of his saw everything, that they could tell paste from real. The fake "diamonds," he claimed, lacked the light-gathering brilliance of the real ones-no one else had ever seemed to notice, but, then, she usually wore the original.
"I sent it to my mother," admitted Carolina. "They were about to lose Level Green and-and I couldn't let it happen, Kells. No matter what they think of us."
"How very n
oble of you," was his dry comment. "At least it makes my decision easy,"
he added cryptically.
She frowned at him. "Whatever do you mean?"
"Nothing," he said with a shrug. "Let us go in to dinner." He proffered his arm.
And so they went sailing into the green dining room to feast on the best repast Cook could create. Kells pulled back Carolina's chair and seated her with ceremony. He had changed from the casual leathern breeches and flowing shirt he had worn up the Cobre and was dressed in good civil English clothes again, a dark gray suit, wide-cuffed with silver buttons, a froth of white lace spilling over his fine hands and highlighting the handsome emerald ring he wore, which matched a similar stone in the snowy Mechlin at his throat. Carolina was inescapably tempted to compare the deep green fire of his jewels with the single pink stone Monsieur du Monde had sported. But, then, she told herself, Monsieur du Monde was not the Lord Admiral of the Buccaneers.
The pantry door swung open.
"Kells," said Carolina, looking at him across the forest of silver that graced the frosty white linen cloth, "this is Gilly. She will be serving us tonight."
And Kells's dark head swung about as he turned to gaze upon the young girl who had just entered the room. Gilly stared back at him avidly, her brown eyes bold and sparkling. Indeed she was so fascinated she did not move.
"Gilly," said Carolina with a sigh. "Captain Kells would like his dinner served now."
Gilly gave a start and quickly bobbed a curtsy. She gave the handsome buccaneer captain a brilliant, admiring smile. She made all of her usual mistakes in serving, but Carolina did not chide her. Obviously Gilly was bedazzled just being in the same room with the famous buccaneer.
Kells's gaze upon Gilly was thoughtful as she left the room, and Carolina, afraid he did not like her, said quickly, "Gilly is most amusing. She has spent some time upon New Providence."
"That does not recommend her," he growled.
So she had been right: Kells did not like Gilly! "I mean, she tells interesting stories that entertain me," she explained.
"Most stories about New Providence-if true-would not entertain you," Kells told her bluntly. "They would horrify you."
She watched, nettled, as he finished his conch soup. Perhaps a good dinner would put him in a better mood! She let Gilly clear the soup bowls away and bring in the fish before remarking airily, "Gilly told me she knows Rouge!"
Kells looked up from his fish. "That does not recommend her, either."
"Indeed? What do you know about Rouge?"
"Very little. I have seen her but once."
"You have actually seen her? This woman everybody talks about? You never told me that! Tell me, what does she look like?"
He grinned at the consternation in her face. "She has horns instead of hair," he said.
"And gigantic muscles that bulge when she walks."
"Oh, stop teasing me!" she cried in exasperation. "Gilly insists Rouge is beautiful-and kind. Tell me what she looks like!"
"She is indeed very beautiful," he said meditatively, and Carolina felt a bit chilled.
"But as for being kind?" He snorted.
"Where did you see her?" she demanded.
"I put in at New Providence once for repairs after a storm. I saw her on the beach, standing there in men's clothes with her red hair streaming down, inciting two fellows to kill each other with cutlasses."
"And did they?" she asked, fascinated.
"No," he sighed. "They staggered away-they were both very drunk-and she pulled out the cutlass she wore at her belt and ran after them, shouting, with the naked blade wavingin the air. The argument wandered behind one of the lean-to shacks that dot the beach and I lost interest."
"Do you think anyone was killed?"
He shrugged. "Very possibly. Life is cheap in New Providence." "And that was the only time you saw Rouge?" "Yes. This girl, this Gilly"-he dropped his voice "if you are bent on giving her a new life, I suggest you let me find her employment in one of the taverns."
"Oh, no, Kells, she'd promptly slip back into her old life-why, she could even end up in one of those brothels on Thames Street."
"Which may be where she came from." He sighed. "Very well, Carolina. I will not cross you in this matter since you are so set upon it, but as I will be away so much and-"
"What? Why will you be away?"
His eyes glinted. "Tell me about Monsieur du Monde," he cut in briskly. "And why I might have heard rumors."
So he had spoken to Hawks and Hawks had told him! "I-Monsieur du Monde sprang forward to rescue Gilly," she said in confusion.
"And you invited him to dinner." "Well, I had expected you to be here," she said in her defense. He accepted that. "This Monsieur du Monde, what is he like?"
"He said he was from New Providence, but he ain't," supplied Gilly, who had just re-entered the room with a large platter of biscuits. "I'd have seen him there-he ain't the kind could be missed."
"Oh, he couldn't be missed, could he?" Kells turned to Carolina with a grim smile playing around the comers of his mouth. "I am sorry I didn't meet this Monsieur du Monde. Tellme, what did you learn about him?"
"Not very much--" "All lies," said Gilly dispassionately. "He looked like a liar to me."
"That will be enough, Gilly," said Carolina. "You are not to enter into our conversations when we are at dinner. You have set down that tray. Don't just stand there staring at us, return to the kitchen."
"Yes, mistress!" said Gilly, flouncing away.
"And you should be more grateful, Gilly. After all, Monsieur du Monde saved you from a beating most likely!" Carolina flung after her.
The door closed a little too hard.
"You will not be able to train that one," murmured Kells, shaking his head. "Go on, tell me about this Frenchman."
"I am not sure he is French," she said slowly. "There is something very Spanish about him. And when I shot a question at him in Spanish, he replied instantly in flawless Spanish."
"A Spaniard . . ." he said thoughtfully. "Oh, well, I don't know that, Kells. He claimed to be from Marseilles. Perhaps he is."
"Many men claim to be from Marseilles. A crowded, indifferent, polyglot city-a convenient place to claim to be from, for one could get lost in the crowd there. Didn't you tell me our new neighbor, Louis Deauville, also claims to be from Marseilles?"
"Yes, I did." She flushed for she guessed Hawks had informed Kells of the way Monsieur Deauville, who had come to live across the street from them, always paid court to her, usually erupting from his house the moment Carolina left hers, finding ways to speak to her, seeking her out in the market. She brought the conversation back to Raymond du Monde, considering it safer. "Anyway, I cannot say that he is not French. He said he had come from New Providence most recently, that he had only spent his boyhood in Marseilles."
Kells quirked an eyebrow at her. "But you thought he was Spanish?"
"Well, I could have been wrong."
"I doubt it. Your instincts are very good about these things." "Anyway, he is gone so we need not bother about him. He told me he was leaving the very next day."
"Gone. So soon? Did he say where he was going?"
"I don't remember-no, I don't believe he did."
"And you were not curious enough to ask him?"
"Well, after all, it was not my affair. I only invited him to sup with me because-"
"Because he came to your aid, I know. Still . . . I wonder what he wanted and how he managed so handily to come to your aid?"
"Oh, that's ridiculous!" she burst out. "He couldn't have planned it! After all, how could Monsieur du Monde have known that Gilly would run down the street and trip and fall down right in front of me?"
"Yes," he mused. "A fortunate fall, was it not? I wonder how she happened to do that
...." He raised his voice. "Gilly, you can come out now. I can see your eyes shining in the crack of the pantry door."
Reluctantly Gilly opened the door. She looked su
lky, and Carolina gave her an angry look. "If you eavesdrop on us, Gilly, I will have to send you away," she said sharply.
Gilly, furious at being caught up in her spying, promptly burst into tears and ran from the room. Kells's hard gaze followed her flight. "Better find the wench another place,"
he advised.
"No, I will give her another chance," Carolina said. "But tell me, why would the gossips have it that you were trying to buy a plantation along the Cobre?"
"Because I was."
"But I thought you said-"
"I said I was not inthe process of buying one, not that I did not wish to."
"Oh." She spoke the word soundlessly.
"Well, do not look so alarmed. I had thought it would be a simple matter since money is offered to me freely for buccaneering ventures. But oddly enough, I can find no backers for this enterprise. Men are willing to risk fortunes with me in the hope of immediate and
dazzling gain, but they are quick to point out that buying land and making it pay is a long road." "You could do it!" she said hotly, on his side now and quite forgetting that she had been against the project.
"Oh, I am sure of it. But men with money to invest sheer off from it. It would seem that my longevity as a buccaneer is not highly regarded. Oh, it is couched in fine words, but it is explained to me that I must pay cash." He gave her a wry look.
They had finished their dinner now and were sipping the strong ruby-red wine of Portugal-port, named for the town of Oporto from whence it came. Her silver eyes mirrored her astonishment.
"But you have ceased buccaneering. Everyone knows that!" "No one believes it.
Perhaps even I do not." He shook his head tiredly.
"Then ignore them and pay cash!" she exploded. "Forget these other men who only seek to profit on your dangerous work."
There was a rueful look in the gray eyes that looked down upon her tenderly. She looked so lovely there in her white gown with her breast heaving with indignation--so innocent, so untouched. And the effect somehow heightened by the barbarity of that opulent necklace, glowing like red coals and white fire.
