"Good morning to you, Lady Nimblefingers. I trust you slept well?"
Bella tipped her head up to look at the windows again. What she thought had been sunset…
"Aye, 'tis dawn and the sun is rising. We've had the luxury of a full night's sleep. Much needed, methinks, for you were snoring like a contented kitten."
"I do not snore, sirrah."
He arched an eyebrow. "It must have been the sound of the waves beneath the keel then."
She rose up and shook her left arm to dispel the pinpricks and tingling. "Indeed it must have been, although how you could have heard anything above your own whuffing and snorting is quite beyond me."
He reached up and threaded his fingers into her hair, dragging her down for a kiss more invasive and possessive than anything gone before. When he released her, she barely had the wits to gasp a startled protest when she felt one of his hands slide down between her thighs.
"When you speak of making noises, madam, you should have a care not to impugn my character overmuch. I wager poor Molly sleeps with her thumbs in her ears most nights."
Bella opened her mouth to protest but the sound came out as a startled whimper as his fingers stroked through the silky folds of her flesh.
"There, you see?" he murmured.
She grasped his wrist and drew his hand aside. "Has anyone told you that your arrogance is quite insufferable?"
"You have. On many occasions."
She conceded the point with a small laugh. "Only when warranted, which, as it happens, has been on many occasions."
Dante stared at her lips. "You never do cease to amaze me, dear lady."
"I shall take that as a compliment."
"It was meant as one. And that is twice now."
"Twice?"
"That you've laughed."
She pushed a bunch of curls off her face and frowned. "Nonsense. I laugh all the time."
"Not with me. I am lucky to earn a smile that is not pinned at the sides with spikes. I have heard you laugh with Varian and with Artemis and Molly, so I knew you were capable of it. But here, with me, it is all challenges and wariness."
She propped her elbows on his chest and cupped her chin in her hands and looked steadfastly into the amber eyes.
"I am not one to trust easily and if I appear wary at times, it is usually because I am. And with good reason, even unto my own brother who, if you will recall, tried to kill me."
"Your brother is three thousand miles away. He can't hurt you here."
"Pain is not always measured by proximity. Three thousand miles, or three paces… it hurts just as much to think how easily he would have pulled that trigger."
He reached up and tucked an errant curl behind her ear. "After what I have seen these past two days, I understand your fear of betrayal. Believe me, I do understand it. But have I given you any reason not to trust me?"
"I suppose not. Not really."
His eyebrow twitched again. "Now there is a resounding vote of approval if ever I heard one. But if that is the best you can give me at the moment, I will happily take it in lieu of blowing myself up with a grenadoe."
She watched his lips moving as he spoke and she let her gaze roam over the lush, dark stubble of his beard. How she could ever have imagined him to be anything but ruggedly handsome, she did not know. How she could have wasted so much time resenting him rather than thanking him for taking her away from her desperate life in England, she did not know that either. She was suddenly, and very unexpectedly filled with such a profound sense of belonging right here with this man that she knew she was teetering on the edge of something. Some brink over which, if she crossed it fully she might never be able to step back.
If Dante read anything in her expression, he pointedly dismissed it with a gentle slap on her bare rump. "As much as I would enjoy remaining abed all morning, I am long overdue on deck."
Bella moved enough to allow him to sit up. She watched him while he drew on his breeches and stamped his feet into his boots.
"I know we are bound for Havana, but I have been reluctant to ask your plans."
"And for that you have shown remarkable restraint."
"Do you have a plan?"
"I'm working on one."
"I overheard some of the men saying the harbor in Havana is well fortified."
"Aye, that it is."
"And that there are rarely fewer than fifty ships in port at any time."
"Closer to a hundred, I should think, what with the treasure fleet preparing to leave for Spain." He paused, half-dressed, and raked his fingers through his hair in a gesture of frustration. "The first thing we need to do is find out where the captives are being held, if they've been transferred ashore or if they are being kept on board one of the ships. According to Follett, both the Avenger and the Iron Rose carried prisoners away from Pigeon Cay but we don't know where they were taken or if they will be held on board. The ships, if they are in the harbor, should be easy enough to spot and will at least give us a place to start. The difficulty arises if the captives have been taken ashore. The governor's residence, the Castillo de la Real Fuerza was formerly a fortress, complete with barracks and dungeons. We have done business with Quero before—"
"Quero?"
"Jerome Quero. The governor. Temporary governor, I should say, his predecessor died a few months ago from the fever and Quero is eager to take advantage of the position."
"Meaning he is open to bribes?"
"Very open. He is a lusty old fornicator with a wife in Seville, another in Havana, and two or three mistresses scattered around the island."
Bella thought back to the devastation she had seen on Pigeon Cay, the burned warehouses, the looted buildings. "Are you worried you don't have enough to bribe him?"
"Oh, I have enough to make his cock hard for a month. The problem lies in gaining an audience with him. When he was a mere plantation owner he had his own harbor and it was easy to smuggle goods in and out. Now that he is governor it might take days, even weeks to arrange contact... time we don't have if the fleet is preparing to sail. Plus, they will know by now they missed out on capturing a crucial member of the family."
"You?"
"Aye. Me. Any fool worth his salt will know I'll not just stand by and watch them sail our ships to Seville. Quero is greedy and ambitious but he is not a fool; he'll not want to risk his position. Even if he did, we couldn't trust him not to double-cross us."
"And you say I am the one who enjoys challenges?"
He snorted softly as he pulled his shirt over his head. "I keep you in my bed, do I not?"
She sat up on bent knees, her hair streaming over her bare breasts. "Perhaps we both enjoy challenging Fate," she said softly.
He glanced over. Violet-blue eyes that had rarely given him a moment's peace prompted the urge to gather her back into his arms, but he reached for his battered leather tricorn instead.
"I will be up on deck for most of the day. No doubt Digger will be awake and howling curses over our nefarious souls, but we will need him healthy and sober in the coming days."
"Molly and I will see to it." She attempted a little smile. "It will give me great pleasure to feed him the same boiled shoe broth he instructed Chedley to brew for me."
Dante looked down, rolled the brim in his hands and adjusted the feather that did not need adjusting. His brow was furrowed as if he might have said more, might have wanted to say more, but he settled the tricorn on his head and left the cabin without another word.
Chapter Twenty-Four
For nearly half a century Havana had been the major collection point for treasure fleets carrying the wealth plundered from the New World home to Spain. The galleons, with their holds filled with silver from Nombre de Dios, gold from Mexico City, alpaca wool from the Andes, emeralds and pearls from Barranquilla, spices, corn and cocoa from Campeche would arrive from in April and May before departing in early June for home. Because these flotas were so tempting to pirates, heavily armed India Guards escort
ed the convoys, doubling the number of vessels in port. Buzzing around them like flies were the supply caravels and local fishermen hawking goods and provisions for the long voyage home.
The harbor itself was shaped like a long-throated funnel, with two fortresses situated on flat plateaus on opposite sides of the narrow entrance. San Salvador de la Punta boasted twelve heavy siege cannon; Castillo de los Tres Reyes, bristled with twenty artillery pieces. Both had been designed to protect the approach as well as the entrance to the port of Havana Bay. Any hostile or unwelcome ships attempting to enter the mouth of the funnel could be blasted out of the water without raising a drop of sweat on the brows of the gunners.
The governor's residence, Castillo de la Real Fuerza, was located midway along the watery throat of the funnel. The terrain surrounding the stone walls was mostly flat, with little to impede the view into the main harbor on the right and the open ocean on the left.
Jonas Dante was not so arrogant as to suppose he could solve all the problems facing them on his own brain power, prime among them being how to locate the prisoners from Pigeon Cay and how to arrange their escape if possible. Still a day's sail from Havana he had called a council of war in his cabin. Present were Varian St. Clare, Artemis Franks, and Hobson Grundy who had rendezvoused with the Tribute in the smugglers cove. The pinnace, a swift, single-masted vessel Grundy had sailed to Gull Island, had returned with an exhausted crew and several heavy, sand-encrusted chests retrieved from one of many buried caches of treasure.
The four men sat around the dining table, a map of Cubana spread out before them, their faces grim, lit by three swaying lanterns overhead. Young Pitt kept their cups full of wine as they debated and argued and seemed to get no further ahead.
"The way I see it," Jonas said, "our options are pretty limited. If we try to sail the Tribute in under a white flag and ask for a parlay… we would likely be met with a barrage from the fortress guns and sunk before we entered the harbor."
"We could approach overland," Varian suggested.
"It would take a week to hack through the jungle," Artemis said before offering a third choice. "We could probably sail the pinnace past the guns without raising too much suspicion. Disguise her as a small trading vessel, fly a Spanish flag."
Hobson Grundy leaned forward. "We could touch in to Santo Domingo first, where them buccan-eaters have laid siege, an' get us some more ships with men eager to give them Spanish devils what for… then give 'em what for."
Jonas steepled his fingers under his chin, brushing the tips slowly back and forth through the long stubble. He had considered all of these possibilities and more, but as yet had come up lacking anything that could promise any measure of success.
Artemis chased a bead of moisture down the side of his goblet and stated the obvious. "If I was Recalde, I would keep the most valuable captives close."
Varian nodded and added with barely controlled despair, "Unfortunately we have no way of knowing who those captives might be."
"I would not risk keeping them on board one of the ships. The Castillo de la Real Fuerza has dungeons, but not enough to house all of the prisoners,"
"Nor would the majority of them be considered valuable enough to hold and transport home to Spain. Most, I suspect, will be disposed of at the slave market. Master Pitt—?"
Young Pitt stepped to attention behind Jonas's chair. "The market is usually held the first and fifteenth day of the month, Captain."
"And today is?"
"The twelfth."
Varian shook his head, his anger and sense of helplessness evident in the way he kept his fists clenched on the table. "So at best we have three days to come up with a plan. Not nearly enough time to sail to Santo Domingo and back."
"Young Pitt has a pretty enough face," Grundy said, chuckling. "We could put him in a skirt an' have him sashay into the castle like a bold-eyed minx."
The comment won snickers all around the table and a narrowed glare from Young Pitt, but the moment of levity was fleeting and the men lapsed into a glum silence again.
"Come," Jonas said, responding to a soft tapping on the door.
Bella poked her head into the cabin. She took a quick look at the somber faces of the men seated at the table and drew a deep breath before elbowing the door wider. When she entered, more than one stubbled jaw dropped open, for she was wearing a gown of shimmering blue silk she had discovered in one of the sea chests Young Pitt had been about to toss overboard at Pigeon Cay. Her hair was loose and flowing over her shoulders. Her breasts were pushed high by an elegantly embroidered stomacher that cinched her waist into seductively slender vee.
She glided to the center of the cabin and twirled so that her skirts belled out in a wide circle. Meanwhile Molly, wearing a much more subdued frock of polished gray worsted, stood with a hand stretched out toward her mistress.
"Gentlemen. May I present the lovely Lady Bellanna Wrexworth Harper. Her ship has been recently overrun by pirates and she finds herself at the mercy of your charity. Now then, if you were a lusty old fornicator, would you deny an audience with such a fair young beauty?"
The silence, apart from the faint swishing of Bella's skirt, lasted a full count of ten before it snapped like a thread and three voices started talking at once.
Grundy: "I'll be double damned."
Varian: "Good God, no!"
Artemis: "Madness! Sheer madness!"
Bella smoothed a hand down the folds of silk to settle them and smiled. "Possibly a little mad, but quite in keeping with the audacity of the company we have been keeping these past two months."
The three looked to Jonas, the only one who had not instantly exclaimed.
Bella looked to him as well. "You said yourself the biggest difficulty would be gaining an immediate audience with the governor. Flirting with lusty old fornicators is a skill I have honed since I was eight years old. I can flirt, seduce, and pick his pocket for the key to the city if necessary, all within an hour of making his acquaintance."
"And just how would you propose to make his acquaintance?" Varian asked curtly. "You don't even speak Spanish."
Bella moistened her lips. "As Molly said, I would appeal to his sense of charity... as a young widow whose ship was attacked by horrid pirates and who barely escaped with her life and the life of her faithful servant."
Molly dipped in a slight curtsy before Bella continued.
"Lost and helpless, we have come to Havana to seek the governor's protection until arrangements can be made to contact her dear brother who is undoubtedly frantic with worry at our failure to arrive in—" she waved a hand as if searching for a plausible location in mid-air.
"Saint Christopher," Young Pitt offered, clearly drawn into Bella's improvisation. When the other men glanced at him, he shrugged. "There is a large English colony on the island, and it would be believable."
Once again all three voices rose and clashed, posing arguments and protestations. Only Dante remained silent, his brow furrowed, his gaze piercing and steadfast on Bella. It had been nearly two months since he had seen her wearing anything but breeches and tall leather boots, and while he had known she was a beauty, he was reminded now of that first glimpse he'd had of her in the great hall. It had felt like the parting of the Red Sea as the crowd had seemed to fall away, leaving only the dazzling sight of her standing under a halo of candle light.
"It is too much of a risk," Artemis said. "We can't ask you to do such a thing."
"You are not asking. I am volunteering. I want to help."
"There are other ways to help."
Bella's gaze was still locked with Dante's. "I can do it," she said quietly. "You know I can do it."
Artemis spread his hands wide. "Jonas, you're not seriously considering any of this."
Dante swivelled in his chair and addressed Grundy. "How quickly could you turn the pinnace into a French courier?"
Hobson frowned. "I suppose... as soon as we could hoist a flag on the mast an' paint a Frenchie name on her st
ern."
"Do it. With all the supply ships coming and going, the pinnace would get us past the guns in the fort. And we have enough Frenchmen on board to answer any hails."
"Jonas—"
"Artemis, I don't like it any more than you do, but we have been arguing and debating for two solid days with nothing to show for it but empty rum bottles. Can any of you think of a better, swifter way to gain Quero's attention?"
"Firin' a shot up his arse might do it," Grundy muttered.
"You would still have to get close enough to fire that shot."
Despite the glimmer of hope that had come into his eyes, Varian shook his head. "Artemis is right. It is too much of a risk for her to take on her own."
"She won't be on her own," Dante said. "I will be with her every step of the way."
"As will I," Molly declared.
Artemis stiffened. "Now hold on a minute..."
"I go where my lady goes," Molly stated flatly, cutting off the gun captain's protest. "Moreover, it would make our story that much more believable for her to be travelling with her maid."
Grundy scratched his chin and grunted. "If ye're addled enough to go through with this, I warrant we can have the pinnace whored up by the mornin'. Like as ye said, supply ships'll be swarmin' the harbor like ants on sugar an' we should be able to get into the main harbor easy enough. As I recall, there might be a friendly innkeeper on the edge of town who would be happy to let us drop an anchor at his dock for enough weight in gold. And aye, I did say we. Ain't likely I'd let ye do this on yer own."
"I am going as well," Varian insisted. "If there is the smallest chance Juliet is alive then I want to be there."
Artemis shook his head. "You are all completely mad, but if you are convinced that there is no other way—"
Dante cut him off. "I need you here, to take command of the Tribute. I want to know that if anything goes wrong, you will blast the hell out of as many Spaniards as you can lay a gun to."
~~
Once the decision to move forward had been made, Grundy wasted no time setting men to work on the pinnace. It was a utilitarian vessel designed to be taken apart and stowed in the hold of a much larger ship. Hobson hand-picked a crew of ten of the best fighters and made sure there was enough powder, guns, and munitions on board to start a small war should it be required.
The Far Horizon Page 24
