Nicola Cornick, Margaret McPhee, et al (11 page)

‘Come on, you little doxy! I care not how sick you are—
now
we have a use for you!’

The wind, cutting as a knife, buffeted Lucinda as she stumbled up
the steps on to the deck. She blinked in the bright winter light, dashed the
hair out of her eyes and caught her breath. Away to the west the coast was no
more than a dark smudge on the skyline. The grey water heaved beneath them, the
ship creaking with each slap of the waves against its hull. The wind ripped
through the mainsail above her head. It felt wild and exhilarating, and
suddenly, for the first time, Lucinda could understand the irresistible lure of
the sea. She took a deep breath of fresh, salty air.

‘We can’t outrun them, Captain,’ the helmsman was saying, leaning
on the wheel with increasing desperation. ‘The
Defiance
is too
fast—faster by far than we are. He’s going to come around and block us.’

Norton swore. ‘How in hell did he get away this time? Damn him, I
told
them where to find him—’

Lucinda spun around, ignoring the way Norton’s hand tightened
with such bruising intensity on her arm. Sure enough, the
Defiance
was
there, just off the starboard bow, so close she could see the snarling dragon’s
head at the prow, drawing closer all the time with an inevitability that was
causing fear to flare in Norton’s eyes. And surely she could see Daniel—and was
that not Owen Chance
with
him on the deck? Her spirits soared from
misery to pure elation, and she laughed aloud.

Norton growled his anger and raised a hand to strike her, but
before he could there was a whistling overhead, and a shout from one of the
crew, then a terrible, splintering crash as the mainsail was struck squarely
and started to fall like a tree felled in one blow. The ship checked,
shuddered, and lost power, and the
Defiance
came alongside, almost close
enough for her to jump from one ship to the other.

Norton, a knife in his hand, made a grab for Lucinda but she was
too quick for him. She clutched at a coil of rope, tripping him up, and dived
for cover behind a stack of crates. Bits of broken mast were falling all about
them, and a second later she heard the helmsman’s terrified squeal, ‘Grenades!
Glass grenades!’

There was the crack of gunpowder and the billow of smoke,
followed by the smack of gunshot. Lucinda put her arms over her head, curled
up, and prayed for her life. The
Saucy Helen
juddered again as the
Defiance
came closer alongside, and Daniel’s crew lashed the two ships together before
pouring over the sides to board.

Norton’s pirates were fighting for their lives now, hand to hand,
but against Daniel’s crew and a company of soldiers they stood no chance.
Peering around the edge of her hiding place, Lucinda saw Norton take a bullet
in the chest, and covered her eyes.

‘A clean death was too good for him,’ a voice said beside her,
and then she was in Daniel’s arms, and he had wrapped a cloak about her, and
she was clinging to him as he said, in a hard voice she hardly knew, ‘Did he
hurt you, Lucy? Tell me the truth. If any of these men so much as touched you
then I swear I will kill them myself—’

‘No,’ Lucinda said, unsure if she was laughing or crying. ‘No, I
promise…I was too sick, and they were too drunk and…Oh, Daniel, I thought
Chance had arrested you. I am so happy to see you…’

‘Sorry about the grenades,’ Daniel said. ‘I saw you escape Norton
and hide, so I thought we could risk it.’

‘I don’t mind,’ Lucinda whispered. She pressed her face to the
curve of his neck. ‘I love you.’

Daniel took a breath to reply to her, but then she felt him
stiffen slightly and, looking up, saw that Owen Chance had come across them.

‘Mrs Melville.’ He bowed. ‘You are well?’

‘Tolerably well, I thank you, Mr Chance.’ Lucinda tried not to
laugh at the incongruity of greeting the Riding Officer as though they were at
a social occasion.

Chance nodded. ‘Good. Norton is dead and the crew have
surrendered. Topsham is taking the ship into Felixstowe. I take it that Holroyd
will captain the
Defiance
in your absence, de Lancey?’

Daniel nodded. Watching, Lucinda sensed some sort of message that
she did not understand pass between the two men. Daniel loosed her a little.

‘Lucinda, sweetheart. I must go and help Chance sort matters out.
Do you wish to go below until we reach port?’

Lucinda shuddered. ‘No, thank you! I shall stay here. I will be
quite well.’

Daniel gave her a quick kiss and walked away, and for the
remainder of the time sailing into port she sat and watched the soldiers round
up the pirates, shackle them, and line them up on the deck with admirable
efficiency, ready to march them away to prison when they landed. The lines to
the
Defiance
were cut, and the little black and gold ship slipped away
from them, disappearing along the line of the coast as they neared harbour.
Daniel stayed on the
Saucy Helen
, and Lucinda wondered a little at it,
just as she wondered how he had evidently come to some sort of agreement with
Owen Chance. But she was too tired and relieved to wonder too much, and mostly
she was content to sit there and watch him as he worked the ship, admiring the
grace and economy of movement with which he undertook whatever job was
required, a natural sailor, she now realised, and in his element.

They came into Felixstowe, and the prisoners were disembarked and
marched away. Lucinda saw with a glad lift to her heart that the carriage from
Kestrel Court was drawn up on the quay. She stood up, surprised to realise how
stiff and cold she felt. She had been so happy inside that she had not felt the
discomfort outside, and mere cold could certainly not quench her contentment.
If matters were now settled between Daniel and the authorities, as indeed they
must be, perhaps they could all return to Kestrel Court together. She
remembered that Daniel’s sister Rebecca and her husband Lucas were due to
arrive shortly, for the Christmas season, and her heart gave a little skip of
excitement. She knew that Rebecca had not seen Daniel in years, but now,
surely, all that might change? And she and Daniel had much to discuss…

He was coming towards her now, to escort her onto the quay, and
she smiled with such vivid happiness to see him that she was sure all the love
and excited anticipation within her must show on her face and she did not care
who saw it.

Then she became aware that Daniel was not smiling in return.
Immediately behind him was Owen Chance, and behind him three of the redcoats.

Something was very wrong. The smile faded from Lucinda’s eyes.
Slowly, painfully, she looked from Daniel to Owen Chance’s stony face and back
again. The soldiers were standing, waiting.

Daniel said to Chance, ‘Please give us a moment,’ and Chance
nodded and motioned with his head to the soldiers to stay back.

Daniel took Lucinda’s hands in his.

Understanding burst on Lucinda, shattering all the hope and the
happiness and the excitement within her in one huge explosion of grief.

‘No,’ she said, before Daniel could speak. ‘No!’

She thought that she had shouted, but it came out as a whisper.
She knew now what was going to happen—but she did not
want
to
understand, did not want to accept it.

‘No,’ she said again. ‘Tell me it isn’t true.’

Daniel’s face was ashen. She thought he looked so tired, and she
wanted to take him in her arms and hold him and comfort him, but she could not.
She knew she would never be able to now.

‘It was the only way,’ Daniel said. ‘It was the only way I could
save you. I am sorry, Lucy. I have failed you again, but I have to leave you. I
gave Chance my word.’

‘Don’t say that,’ Lucinda said fiercely. ‘Don’t say that you
failed me.’ She felt so cold, so numb. She clung to his hands as the only thing
left to warm her. ‘You offered your life to save mine,’ she said. ‘What more
could you give me?’

‘You are to have Allandale,’ Daniel said. ‘It is agreed. Listen
to me, Lucy.’ He drew her closer to him. He was dirty, and he smelled of smoke
and gunpowder and sweat, and she went willingly into his arms, holding him
tightly, as though to defy anyone ever to take him from her. He spoke softly,
for her alone.

‘I love you, Lucy. I will love you always. You are my wife in
every way that matters, and you are to have Allandale and do the work there
that I cannot. And even when I am gone you will know that I am with you—’

Lucinda made a small sound and buried her face against his shirt.
She tried to draw strength from the feeling of his arms about her, for she was
not at all sure that she would ever be strong enough to do as he asked and let
him go.

‘No,’ she said brokenly. ‘It isn’t fair.’ Anger rushed through
her in a fierce tide. ‘It isn’t
fair
for them to condemn you as a
criminal! Not when you have done so much to help them—’

‘I have done plenty of things that were wrong,’ Daniel said. ‘And
in the end that is what counts.’ He kissed her hair. ‘Now I have to go, sweet.’

He loosed her, gently but firmly, and she saw in his eyes the
devastation and misery, and understood that this was the hardest thing he had
ever had to do in his life and that he was not even sure he could do it. And
she knew then that she had to help him. She straightened up and let him go, and
the soldiers stepped forward to put him in chains. Cold loneliness ripped through
her, leaving her heart in tatters, and she thought that she would never, ever
be whole again.

Later she could not even remember how they got her off the ship,
but down on the quayside Sally Kestrel was waiting with the carriage, to take
her back to Midwinter. The Duchess said nothing at all, merely wrapping Lucinda
in a thick cloak and bundling her inside. Lucinda was profoundly grateful that
she was not expected to talk. Later, perhaps, she could speak to Sally about
how she felt and what she was going to do with the rest of her life. She had a
feeling that the Duchess of Kestrel would be the most understanding person in
the world when it came to talking about lost love and lost hope, and how one
might somehow forge something from the ruins and find a reason to live again.
But not now. Not yet. She could not talk about it yet.

Early night was falling fast, and the winter blue had drained
from the sky to leave it dull and grey. The journey back seemed interminable,
but finally they were there. The flaring lights in the house made her eyes
sting, and Eustacia was waiting, pale and questioning. Lucinda saw Sally shake
her head, just once, and Stacey’s face fell and she looked as though she wanted
to cry.

There was the sound of voices, and Lucinda stopped and looked
questioningly at Sally Kestrel.

‘Is that—Rebecca?’

Sally nodded. ‘They arrived this afternoon.’

Lucinda squared her shoulders. Rebecca was her oldest friend, but
now she shrank from telling her what had happened to Daniel. She felt a huge,
smothering guilt that she should be the cause of his capture and death. She
could not bear to see Rebecca’s grief.

Rebecca came into the hall, and for a moment they just stared at
one another. To Lucinda she looked heartbreakingly like Daniel—both so dark,
both with the same courage and gallant spirit. She could see that Rebecca had
been crying, but now her eyes were dry, and there was resolution and acceptance
in her face—as though she had always known it would come to this, that one day
she would hear that Daniel was dead, or captured. Lucinda understood suddenly
that it was news that Rebecca had always dreaded and yet somehow expected to
hear.

And as Lucinda waited, terrified she would lose her friend as
well as her lover all in the same day, Rebecca hurried forward, and caught her
up in a hug that was so fierce Lucinda could not help but gasp.

‘He did the right thing,’ Rebecca whispered. ‘Stacey told us what
happened. Dearest Lucy, I am so sorry.’

And in the face of such generosity Lucinda felt her own grief
break at last, and they clung to one another until Lucas Kestrel, with the
presence of mind for which he was renowned, pushed a glass of brandy into each
of their hands.

‘Drink it up,’ he said tersely. ‘We know that Justin is up in
London and will do what he can.’ He raised his own glass in a toast. ‘To Daniel
de Lancey. The game is never over until the last counter has been played.’

I
T WAS
Christmas Eve and another bright,
clear winter’s day, with a frost on the ground. Early in the afternoon, Lucinda
was roused by the sound of a carriage clattering up the drive, and then Justin
Kestrel’s voice was heard in the hall and Sally called out to him in joyous
greeting.

Lucinda, who had been sitting at the desk in her room, vainly
trying to read, sat up a little straighter and smoothed the skirts of her gown
with fingers that were shaking a little. In the fortnight since Daniel had been
captured she had slept little and spent a great deal of time talking with
Rebecca, and even more time hoping against silent hope that Lucas was right and
there was something, anything, that Justin Kestrel could do to help Daniel’s
situation. But it did not look good. She knew there was no clemency for
pirates. Justin had offered Daniel a pardon once before and Daniel had turned it
down. This was not going to be a happy Christmas.

She heard laughter, quickly stilled, and the excited chatter of
voices, and then running footsteps on the corridor outside her room before
Sally and Rebecca burst in like a pair of excited schoolgirls.

‘He’s escaped!’ Rebecca said. Her face was flushed pink with
excitement, happy tears in her eyes. She grabbed Lucinda and danced her around
the room. ‘He escaped two days ago, apparently, whilst they were taking him to
London for his trial!’