“Your guests have arrived, Captain,” Roman said upon arriving in the doorway.
“Please inform them I’ll be along in a few minutes, and by all means, seat them on the veranda and pour them a glass of our finest,” Carbonale stated as he sheathed his sword and tucked his pistol into his leather belt.
“Consider it done, Captain,” Roman said with a nod and turned to leave. “By the way, I’ve collected their weapons and left those with their man on the beach as instructed.”
Carbonale placed his hands on his hips and glanced down at his arsenal, smiling. “My home, my rules, no?”
Roman bowed and carried on as Green laughed in a low baritone purr.
“Master Green, lead the way. Our guests await.”
As the Captain approached the doorway, Green cocked his bald black head, raised his big right paw and asked, “So, what are you going to tell them, Maddox?”
Carbonale looked down and again tugged at his cuffs before cocking his own head and saying, “Alphonse, my friend who knows me better than any other man alive; what do you think I’m going to tell them?”
Alphonse nodded and walked to the mirror, straightening his shirt and belt, and adding a dash of Zara’s scented oil to shine his head. He twirled the golden earrings in his lobes and smiled at Carbonale’s reflection in the mirror. “Now, Captain, I am fit to lead the way.”
Master Green’s head barely cleared the doorway. He turned down the hall towards the parlor, catching a glimpse of Zara watching them before she ducked back into the kitchen. He crossed the threshold onto the veranda and stepped to the left, bowing to the guests, and walked to Carbonale’s chair, where he stood until his Captain appeared between the open French doors.
“Welcome to my home,” Carbonale announced, placing his hands on his narrow hips. “I am…as of course you know, Captain Maddox Carbonale of Le Chat Noir.” He walked to his chair and motioned to Master Green. “This fine gentleman is Quartermaster Green,” he said, placing his left hand atop Green’s right shoulder. Cassandra sat straight up, eyeing Carbonale’s weapons with a look of surprise.
“Master Green, if you please?” he asked, removing his sword and pistol and handing them to Green, who carried them into the house.
Miranda squirmed a bit in her seat, crossed her legs, and leaned on her arm rest, pressing her shoulder to Cassandra with a nudge. Cass turned her head slightly and glanced at Miranda, and then surrendered her complete attention to the flamboyant, yet beautiful, man to her right. “Our pleasure, Captain, and thank you for your hospitality.” However, something was off, and there were three people at the table who knew completely what it was.
“And you are?” he asked, extending his hand to her.
“Cassandra Randall, and this is my cousin, Miranda Shepard,” she answered. Her hand involuntarily slid into his and was kissed before she knew it had left the table.
“The pleasure is all mine, ladies,” he said, standing to lean across the table for Miranda’s voluntarily extended and wiggling fingers.
“Now to our business,” he continued. “My man Sandy informed Master Green earlier that you are looking for your Captain—Ivory is it?” Carbonale said, leaning far back in his chair with his feet flat on the floor.
“Yes, have you seen her?” Miranda blurted out.
“What my eager cousin means is yes, she’s been missing for almost a week, and we were hoping perhaps one of your vessels had picked her out of the water, or heard of her being found.”
“Cass, don’t pussy-foot around,” Miranda growled under her breath.
“I’m trying to find Ivory, Miranda, and we need to do this my way,” Cass turned and muttered back at her.
“I’m sorry, ladies, did you have something to share?” Carbonale asked, lifting his glass for a drink.
“Captain Carbonale, we received some intelligence that one of your ships was observed rescuing a woman from a longboat, who fits the description of our cousin. We’d simply like to know if the woman was Ivory, and what you would require in order to return her to us so that we may be on our way.”
Cass had boldly laid out the truth of their visit and now sat straight backed in her seat. Her hand trembled when she took a sip of her drink. Carbonale sat back in calm repose, turning his rings and playing with the cat charm resting on his chest. He caressed it between his thumb and forefinger and stared over at Cassandra. Miranda swooned in her seat and then sat up and pulled out her fan, waving it over her bosom. Seemingly out of nowhere, Lasher leapt into Carbonale’s lap, and stroked his face against his master’s hand.
“Ladies, meet Lasher.”
“Lovely kitty you have there, but I believe it’s safe now to assume that you do, in fact, know where Ivory is, and that it was your men who rescued her.” Cass leaned forward towards him, staring him down as the breeze caused a golden curl to break loose from her hair and fall against her tanned cheek.
Carbonale took a deep breath, brushing his hands down over Lasher as the feline settled into his lap and purred. “Madame, you are a guest in my home, and as such, I’m going to excuse your bluntness. Perhaps in your camp, such accusations are commonplace. Here, however, it’s quite rude to accuse your host of lying.”
“Lying? I’ve simply…”
“You simply assumed my silence was an admission of guilt, and nothing could be further from the truth,” he said, turning his attention down to Lasher.
“Then can you explain your lack of an answer when I asked you a very simple question?”
“But you see, Madame Randall, the question is not as simple as you perceive. Had it crossed your mind that perhaps yes, one of my ships rescued—as you say—your cousin, but maybe did not report it to me? That she is, in fact, somewhere in the company of said…gentlemen, and has not yet chosen to return?”
Cass fell silent, picked up her drink, and took a healthy swig. “No, sir…I had not thought of that explanation. I suppose to you it seems plausible but we know her better.”
“Captain.”
“Excuse me?” Cass raised her eyebrows.
“I am a Captain, Madame, and I’d appreciate it if you would address me as such.”
“Look, Captain, it really has been nice, especially the part where you’re better looking than most of the women I know, but I believe we’ve wasted enough of your time,” Miranda said, washing down the rest of her drink and pulling away from the table.
“Miranda, wait,” Cass stood, grabbing her arm. “So, that is your answer…Captain?”
“Well, since your cousin is obviously not here, I’d say yes, you have your answer…ladies.” Carbonale smiled, at last raising his eyes from the shiny black coat of fur in his lap.
“My apologies, Captain, I meant no disrespect. We’ll be on our way.” Cass released Miranda’s arm, and she, too, backed away, sweeping the stray curl away from her face.
“No hard feelings, ladies. I can understand your concern, but I’ve heard tell that Captain Shepard is quite capable of handling herself. It’s very unlikely that she’s fallen into anyone’s hands that she cannot remove with ease,” Carbonale said and gently placed Lasher on his chair as he rose to his feet.
“Oh…one last thing, Captain, before we go,” Cass asked, turning back to him.
“Of course, Madame.”
“May we have your permission to explore the camp a bit before we search in town?”
“With my blessing,” he answered with a bow and walked them to the steps.
“That bastard’s lying through his teeth,” Cass whispered to Miranda, once they believed themselves out of his range.
“Do you really think so?”
“I’d bet my life on it.”
“I think it’s a bloody shame, though.”
“I know. I had really hoped he’d be willing to negotiate. He’s definitely up to something, and we will find out what it is…you mark my words.”
Miranda looked over at Cass with a raised eyebrow as if confused by her cousin’s answer. �
�What’s that look all about?” Cass asked.
“I wasn’t talking about Ivory.” She giggled. “I was talking about him. That son of a bitch was the most beautiful man I’ve ever laid my eyes on,” she said with a heavy sigh and a dreamy expression.
“Seriously, Miranda, you can think of nothing but sex at this moment?” Cass stated and turned away.
“Tell me you didn’t see that chest—almost as big as mine, I might add. And those hands! There’s a whole lot of good a man can do with hands like those, and don’t you deny it.” Miranda shook a playful finger at her cousin and then locked onto her arm. “However, you’re right. It’s just my nature, Cass. Besides, there was another there with enormous hands, as I’m sure you know…”
“As if I wouldn’t notice, you damn hussy but that, is history.” Cass laughed, and they both turned and waved at the pirate god twenty steps above them. “Bullocks, you snit, you’re right about him, though,” Cass mumbled to herself when Carbonale smiled and two wide dimples dipped into his cheeks to match the one in his chin.
Willy sat on the bottom step with Sandy and turned, looking up at Carbonale with squinted eyes and a scowl. They both stood and waited for the ladies to descend, as Carbonale turned his rings and looked down on them.
Chapter Seven
Ivory’s nap was interrupted when a light knock came at her door. Then, she heard the familiar click of a key in the lock that came before the soft squeak that signified the door was now open. As she lay turned away from this visitor, the unmistakable footsteps and light patter of four paws that accompanied them instantly solved the mystery of who had entered.
“I hope I’m not disturbing you,” the Captain whispered, as Lasher landed on the bed with a gentle pounce and darted for her face with a head butt. “Lasher, no…”
“I’m awake,” Ivory said, stroking the cat from nose to tail and then scratching the smooth tufts of fur behind his ears.
“I must admit, I’m shocked.”
“Why? Is it because, for a change, I’m not naked when you barge in?”
“Your state of dress—or rather undress— when I enter is your responsibility, Mad…Ivory, but I am speaking of Lasher. He is often curious of others, but never affectionate with them.”
“It seems your cat is a better judge of character than you.”
“I wouldn’t go to that extreme. However peculiar his behavior, I wouldn’t assume it has anything to do with his judgment, or mine.”
“Okay, Maddox, why are you here?” Ivory said as she rolled to her back and stared up at the ceiling.
“I had visitors this afternoon; two women, claiming to be your cousins.”
“What? Who? Which ones?” Ivory exclaimed and snapped up from her back onto her knees on the bed, sending Lasher leaping from the bed in fear.
“I believe there was a Catalina…”
“Cassandra!”
“And a Miranda. Apparently there was a witness to your rescue. They were under the impression you were here—with me,” Carbonale remarked, taking a seat in the chair.
“You lied to them, of course,” Ivory said with a sigh and sat back on the bed.
“You sound as if you wouldn’t lie for fifty thousand pounds. You’d be lying if you said you wouldn’t,” he stated, leaning forward.
“Fifty thousand pounds, Maddox? Is that all a life is worth to you?”
“That all depends on the life.”
“Who made you God? Who gave you the right to decide who is worth what?”
“My goodness, Ivory, how melodramatic can one woman possibly be, I ask you?”
“You call it anything you like. You’re no more than a rogue bounty hunter. You’re not a pirate. You’re still working for the British! Only now you’re trading in flesh instead of Spanish gold.” All the while Ivory spoke, she’d slid closer and closer to the edge of the bed and had perched herself on all fours, glaring at him.
“Are you trying to make me angry, Ivory? Because if so, it’s working,” Carbonale said through his teeth, leaning so far forward he was barely sitting and held himself up by the arms of the chair, inches from her face.
“I say what I mean, and I definitely mean what I say, and I’m telling you there is no way you’re taking me to Nassau.”
“You’ll get on that ship tomorrow morning if I have to have you carried on in a barrel,” he shot back, but this time he was cool and sat back in his chair as if nothing had happened.
Ivory was still crouched on her hands and knees. Her eyes fixed on his for a moment until he looked down at Lasher brushing against his legs. Her eyes followed his, and then crossed him and rolled back. She felt light headed and weak, and without warning her arms buckled beneath her. She tipped forward towards the edge of the bed and felt herself falling. The next thing she knew, Carbonale had swept her up in his arms.
Her head fell back, and her arm flopped to the side. The room was spinning around her, and she felt woozy and ill until everything went black. She awoke a few moments later to find him sitting on the bed next to her, wiping her brow with a damp cloth and holding her hand.
“Protecting your investment?” she asked softly, barely able to open her eyes.
“Oh, for goodness sakes, woman! Do you ever shut up?”
“The truth is Maddox, I rarely speak unless I have to. When you live with three other women who are lively, brilliant, beautiful, and full of life, you have to find what your strengths are.”
“And what is it that you’ve found?”
“Making sure they can remain all of those things—for as long as I can.”
“Protection, strength, and the preservation of all of those things—is that what you’re saying?”
“Don’t you see, Maddox? Your precious fifty thousand pounds isn’t only for my neck. You’re holding the noose for four lives in your hands.”
Ivory closed her eyes, and Carbonale pulled the cloth away from her face. He sat there, leaning over her, and saw her completely for the first time. He was awed at her beauty in all its plainness, but more so at the glimpse into her he’d just seen that left him longing to see more. Her scars, blisters, and bruises faded before his eyes, and the true nature of her spirit lay before him. He was caught unawares when he found his hand brushing wisps of her sun-bleached hair away from her forehead. He found the lock of hair which he had whipped short, and he caressed it between his fingers.
“Maddox, you damned fool, let it go. She’s just another pirate. She’d sell you out for fifty thousand pounds as easily as you’ve done her,” he whispered to himself.
He stood slowly and straightened the robe to cover her. After a moment of reflection as he gazed down at her, he exhaled and pulled the sheet up as well. He rubbed his brow and took a deep breath, then backed up into the chair and sat on Lasher, who let out a horrible squeal and dashed under the bed.
“Dammit, Lasher,” he said in a whispered shout, and a moment later, he heard a light knock at the door.
“Come in, Zara. It appears Ivory has had a relapse of some sort. Can you tend to her, please?” Maddox rambled, biting his fingernails as he continuously looked back and forth between Zara and Ivory. Then, he turned and bolted from the room.
Zara turned her eyes toward the door and smiled. She carried with her three dresses, shoes, and a variety of accessories from which Ivory could choose to wear for the voyage to Nassau. She walked to the closet and hung the dresses, when she heard Ivory stir. “Are you ill, Madame?”
“I think I fainted. I was a bit riled and argued with the Captain. I’m sure a good meal and a drink, and I’ll be fine.”
“Are you up to a bath? The Captain has ordered a tub to be brought in for you.”
“A bath sounds lovely, Zara. If I may be going to my death, I might as well go clean.”
Zara sighed and looked away. “Please let me know which dress to pack.”
Ivory looked over at them and turned to her side, away from Zara. “I can’t decide. Just pack them all.”
&nb
sp; Zara assisted Ivory with her bath and her hair. By the time she left to finish dinner, Ivory looked like a fine English lady. Her hair was done up in tight curls, and she’d chosen the powder blue silk brocade dress at Zara’s insistence that it complimented her eyes. Ivory hadn’t worn a real dress since she’d worked as a maid in Charles Towne. She preferred a sailor’s slops as it fit in better with her daily tasks. Running a ship and trading with the dangerous sort was no place for a lady—or her fine clothes. Breeches, linen shirts, and a doublet or vest were more her style, although she was impressed at her reflection, despite the peeling skin that was now changing from bright red to tender pink and golden brown.
“This bodice is much too tight!” she shouted at the mirror upon seeing her breasts at a height they hadn’t been in years. She felt as if she were to eat more than a few mouthfuls she’d cease to breathe. The all-too-familiar knock came at the door and Roman was there to escort her to supper—still armed and still with his hand over his pistol.
“Madame?”
“Yes, Roman?”
“I apologize for my weapons. The Captain…”
“It’s alright, Roman. Truly, I understand.”
They continued down the hall and into the empty dining room. Roman pulled out Ivory’s chair to seat her and then bowed to go. “Roman, wait please?”
“Yes, Madame?”
“Could you please ask Zara to come here? I need her help with something.”
“Of course, Madame. And may I say something?”
“By all means, Roman, and please, if you won’t call me Ivory, will you at least call me Captain Shepard?”
“You should wear a dress more often. You look simply beautiful this evening…Captain Shepard.” Roman bowed again and hurried off to find Zara.
Within moments, Zara was rushing to the table. “Yes, Madame? Is something wrong?”
“Can you please loosen this bodice? I can hardly breathe, let alone eat.”
“Oh, yes, Madame. I am sorry for tying you in so tightly. I haven’t had to lace one of these for quite some time, and I’m afraid I was too concerned with getting it right and not enough with your breathing.”
The Blue Diamond (The Razor's Edge Book 1) Page 5
