tell ye
one other thing, but as far as I can figure, it’s of no account.
She said she wouldn’t ‘ave ‘elped ye if ye weren’t so bloody
‘and-some.” Rat spat at the ground, barely missing his own foot.
“Women.”
Nathaniel ignored the
remark. Whatever the reason Mary had risked herself to warn him, he
was grateful. “We have to leave today. I’ll meet you here tonight,
late. But be forewarned. Working for me is not easy. Gaol is the
least of your fears. A man could get himself killed.
Understand?”
“Ye provide three meals a
day an’ a bit of grog, don’t ye?”
Nathaniel
nodded.
“I’ll be ‘ere,
Cap’n.”
“Then get yourself a bath
as well,” Nathaniel added, tossing the man another coin.
* * *
Alexandra sat still while
Trenton bandaged her chafed wrists. Nathaniel had been gone for
over an hour, and in the strained silence of their waiting, Trenton
had applied ointment to Alexandra’s wounds. Though she wasn’t sure
what the unguent was, by its smell she suspected it was intended
for animals, not humans. Still, she wasn’t about to complain. At
least Trenton had cut her loose, and the pain in her hands and feet
had finally ebbed.
“What happens if Nathaniel
doesn’t come back?” she asked when the minutes began to drag like
days. Though both Trenton and Tiny seemed like decent men compared
to the dangerous Nathaniel, they were all pirates, plain and
simple. Alexandra had overheard enough about their business to know
that much. And the man called Garth was less kind. The others could
be even worse.
Nathaniel was obviously
their leader. Should something happen to him, she had no idea who
would gain control. Or what they might do with her. After all, they
thought her to be the daughter of their nemesis.
Trenton shrugged. “He’ll
come back,” he said, but Alexandra could feel his anxiety as he
turned about the room like a caged animal.
“If he doesn’t, will you
let me go?” Her voice sounded small and frightened, even to her own
ears. She cleared her throat and spoke more surely. “I mean, if
Greystone kidnaps Nathaniel, or... or something, what will happen to me?”
“Nathaniel will be back,”
Trenton nearly shouted, making Alexandra cringe. “You’re the duke’s
daughter, for heaven’s sake. Surely you mean enough to him that he
wouldn’t be so foolish.”
“But you can’t be sure
what Greystone will do,” she said, taking a line of reasoning he
would understand.
Trenton ran his fingers
through his hair and sighed. “I’m sorry. I know you’re scared. I
just don’t have any answers right now. We wait. That’s all. We just
wait.”
Alexandra stood and walked
to the window. One story below, the street was jumbled with women
selling flowers, gypsies recaning chairs, peddlers plying their
wares. Horses and carriages plowed through the melee amidst
singsong voices—”Who’ll buy my sweet lavender?”—and she longed to
walk freely among them.
“Why does Nathaniel hate
the duke so badly?” she asked.
Trenton spoke from behind
her. “When Nathaniel’s mother bore your father a deformed son,
he—”
“Deformed?” Alexandra
glanced over her shoulder. In her mind, Nathaniel was anything but
deformed.
“His arm, of course.
Greystone refused to have an imperfect heir. He tried to smother
him, and would have succeeded if his housekeeper hadn’t stopped
him. Martha Haverson rescued Nathaniel and ran away with him,
raised him as her own.”
“The duke tried to kill
Nathaniel?”
Trenton nodded. “Aye. Your
father’s a dark man.”
Alexandra didn’t reply.
She couldn’t imagine a man attempting to murder an innocent
newborn, much less one of his own flesh. But then, she didn’t know
Greystone.
Still, Nathaniel’s past
didn’t justify his actions now. She was as innocent as he had been
as a baby, and she could be in just as much danger. “How did you
meet Nathaniel?”
“We served in the same
frigate during the Opium War. Nathaniel was only
one other thing, but as far as I can figure, it’s of no account.
She said she wouldn’t ‘ave ‘elped ye if ye weren’t so bloody
‘and-some.” Rat spat at the ground, barely missing his own foot.
“Women.”
Nathaniel ignored the
remark. Whatever the reason Mary had risked herself to warn him, he
was grateful. “We have to leave today. I’ll meet you here tonight,
late. But be forewarned. Working for me is not easy. Gaol is the
least of your fears. A man could get himself killed.
Understand?”
“Ye provide three meals a
day an’ a bit of grog, don’t ye?”
Nathaniel
nodded.
“I’ll be ‘ere,
Cap’n.”
“Then get yourself a bath
as well,” Nathaniel added, tossing the man another coin.
* * *
Alexandra sat still while
Trenton bandaged her chafed wrists. Nathaniel had been gone for
over an hour, and in the strained silence of their waiting, Trenton
had applied ointment to Alexandra’s wounds. Though she wasn’t sure
what the unguent was, by its smell she suspected it was intended
for animals, not humans. Still, she wasn’t about to complain. At
least Trenton had cut her loose, and the pain in her hands and feet
had finally ebbed.
“What happens if Nathaniel
doesn’t come back?” she asked when the minutes began to drag like
days. Though both Trenton and Tiny seemed like decent men compared
to the dangerous Nathaniel, they were all pirates, plain and
simple. Alexandra had overheard enough about their business to know
that much. And the man called Garth was less kind. The others could
be even worse.
Nathaniel was obviously
their leader. Should something happen to him, she had no idea who
would gain control. Or what they might do with her. After all, they
thought her to be the daughter of their nemesis.
Trenton shrugged. “He’ll
come back,” he said, but Alexandra could feel his anxiety as he
turned about the room like a caged animal.
“If he doesn’t, will you
let me go?” Her voice sounded small and frightened, even to her own
ears. She cleared her throat and spoke more surely. “I mean, if
Greystone kidnaps Nathaniel, or... or something, what will happen to me?”
“Nathaniel will be back,”
Trenton nearly shouted, making Alexandra cringe. “You’re the duke’s
daughter, for heaven’s sake. Surely you mean enough to him that he
wouldn’t be so foolish.”
“But you can’t be sure
what Greystone will do,” she said, taking a line of reasoning he
would understand.
Trenton ran his fingers
through his hair and sighed. “I’m sorry. I know you’re scared. I
just don’t have any answers right now. We wait. That’s all. We just
wait.”
Alexandra stood and walked
to the window. One story below, the street was jumbled with women
selling flowers, gypsies recaning chairs, peddlers plying their
wares. Horses and carriages plowed through the melee amidst
singsong voices—”Who’ll buy my sweet lavender?”—and she longed to
walk freely among them.
“Why does Nathaniel hate
the duke so badly?” she asked.
Trenton spoke from behind
her. “When Nathaniel’s mother bore your father a deformed son,
he—”
“Deformed?” Alexandra
glanced over her shoulder. In her mind, Nathaniel was anything but
deformed.
“His arm, of course.
Greystone refused to have an imperfect heir. He tried to smother
him, and would have succeeded if his housekeeper hadn’t stopped
him. Martha Haverson rescued Nathaniel and ran away with him,
raised him as her own.”
“The duke tried to kill
Nathaniel?”
Trenton nodded. “Aye. Your
father’s a dark man.”
Alexandra didn’t reply.
She couldn’t imagine a man attempting to murder an innocent
newborn, much less one of his own flesh. But then, she didn’t know
Greystone.
Still, Nathaniel’s past
didn’t justify his actions now. She was as innocent as he had been
as a baby, and she could be in just as much danger. “How did you
meet Nathaniel?”
“We served in the same
frigate during the Opium War. Nathaniel was only
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