Pirate Code by Helen Hollick Page A

you?” He shook his head, puffed his cheeks. Not that it mattered. He had been sold a midden heap and his creditors in London were breathing down his neck for the settlement of outstanding debts – that was the letter he had received, a curt demand for him to sort his financial affairs. If he did not, he could find himself in a debtor’s prison.
    He had first voiced plans to expand into the Caribbean a year ago, his brother-in-law, a boorish man of minor Dutch nobility and lazy to the bone, had poured scorn on the idea and mocked Stefan’s ability to achieve success in a new market. The bastard had also kicked up a stink about Tiola’s lack of breeding and status, for one reason only – he did not want any of Stefan’s progeny to take precedence over his own pack of mewling brats. Stefan’s mouth twisted at the thought. Well, he could set his mind easy there! These months wed to Tiola and no sign of a child. Another gall to rub a sore in van Overstratten’s already injured pride: his brother-in-law and sister bred like rabbits.
    He sipped the brandy, it was indeed good, but not good enough to quell the disquiet swilling in his gullet. Maybe Jennings possessed useful information? Outside of the family, van Overstratten rarely talked of himself or his business matters for he was a private person, but desperation often had a tendency to tilt judgement into indiscretion.
    “Tell me,” he asked, “do you know anything of this indigo plantation I recently purchased from Phillipe Mereno? I hear from its steward the place is run down and of little value.” To contain his anger and embarrassment he sipped again at the brandy. “Loathe as I am to admit this, Captain Jennings, I believe I have been cheated. Mereno, when he sold it me, gave entirely the wrong impression.”
    Jennings was no longer feigning polite interest. He had a quick wit and the ability to seize a useful situation when it presented itself. So, Stefan van Overstratten was in an awkward personal situation was he? How interesting. Another reason why he so resented Jesamiah perhaps? Acorne had never made any secret of his wealth, nor that some of it had been gained at van Overstratten’s loss. An idea began to worm its way into Jennings’ thoughts. One way or another they had to get someone, preferably Acorne, to Hispaniola as soon as possible. Could this Dutchman’s predicament be the key?
    “Tell me, Master van Overstratten, why in all sanity do you not just sell Acorne your wife? If you asked the price of the entire Spanish Main he would pay it.”
    The Dutchman regarded him with a look of utter disdain. “And have the world and his wife know I am in financial difficulties? Have Acorne gloating at me? Has he not already publicly shattered my pride, has he not already humiliated me? I will not let him win so easily. He will have to earn my terms, and earn them damned hard!”
    Conceding, Jennings returned to the previous line of conversation, steadfastly keeping the leap of excitement from his expression and voice. Here was the lever they needed, by God! If only he could cast the bait and make the fish bite!
    Casually, he said, “It is several years since I have been anywhere near Hispaniola. Must have been,” he puffed his cheeks, considering, “oh, before Charles Mereno died, more than ten years ago. From what I remember that plantation never carried a healthy bloom, that’s why Charles did not bother with it, although it must have a value of some sort because he never sold up.”
    He tapped the side of his nose, winked. “Indigo can fetch a high price if placed in the right market, if you know what I mean.” He paused, thoughts racing. Said slowly, his voice lowered, “I do know some, small, snippet of information about the place however. Mereno – Phillipe Mereno that is – must have told you he had some dye of exceptional quality held in, how shall I say, private storage there? He went to some length to avoid the duty on it – some