Bound by the Heart (20 page)

“The
Chimera
was damaged?"

Summer did not answer at once; she smoothed a wrinkle
on her skirt. The dress was one of her favorites among her new purchases—peach
moiré with a soft rose velvet overdress. She doubted if she would wear it again
in the near future.

"Forgive me for saying so, Mr. Glasse, but you
seem to have tried and convicted Captain Wade without actually having any proof
of his guilt. What is to stop ten other privateers from taking his place even
if you manage to try him for treason?" She arched a brow delicately.
"What grounds will you invent for dealing with the others?"

"Wade is as guilty as sin, Mrs. Winfield.
Discounting the charges of treason and espionage, as Sir Edmund Granville he is
still sought for the brutal slaying of a young woman in London. Murder, Mrs.
Winfield. Indefensible. Your apparent sympathy for the man is highly irregular
under those circumstances."

The color in Summer's cheeks deepened. "I have
sympathy for any man who is convicted without a chance to properly defend
himself," she said slowly, "regardless of the charges."

"He will have ample opportunity to do so, Mrs.
Winfield."

"With men like you as his judge and jury? I would
be surprised if he reached the courtroom alive."

Glasse was mildly taken aback. His eyes glittered maliciously
at the defiance in her manner, and he wondered just how far he should test the
commodore's patience.

"You have a point to make, madam?"

"A point, sir? I believe the
Northgate
made it when she opened fire
on Captain Wade while his ship was at anchor, crippled and visibly unable to
defend itself."

The silence in the room could have been sliced through
with a knife. Only Farley Glasse gave no indication of surprise.

"It is a common enough practice, madam, for a
ship to fire a warning shot across another's bow to signal it to stand
to."

"This warning shot—would it be twenty cannon
firing at once?"

When no one answered immediately, Summer searched out
Harvey Aslop, Bennett's adjutant. He was dreadfully shy in the presence of
women, especially those with whom he was smitten. He saw the wide gray eyes on
him now and shifted awkwardly on his seat. "Well, ma'am, not exactly.
Twenty guns would be more like a full broadside."

"And if it was followed almost instantly by a
second and third volley?"

Lieutenant Aslop's gaze flicked past Summer and caught
the slight shake of Bennett's head. He turned painfully red and lowered his
eyes.

"At anchor, you
say?" Sir Lionel queried.

"Indeed, Father. Not a
sail rigged."

"You mean to say the
Chimera
was attacked—at anchor— with
you and Michael on board!"

"Actually, we were in the water . . . swimming.
We barely made it back on board in time to enable the captain to elude the
Northgate
without taking any serious
dammage."

"Come now, Mrs. Winfield," Glasse said sardonically.
"You press your credibility. You don't expect us to believe a British ship
of the line could fire a series of broadsides at a stationary target and leave
it unscatched enough to sail away?"

Summer countered the sneer easily. "As I heard it
told, the
Northgate
took
the worst of it on a single volley from Captain Wade. Not only that, but she
missed the channel completely and had to veer sharply to avoid running aground
on one of the islands."

"Why haven't you mentioned this before now?"
Bennett asked quietly.

"To be quite honest, I don't know. Outrage
perhaps. Or embarrassment that an officer of the British Navy would fire on a
helpless ship and crew."

"Who is the captain of the
Northgate?"
Sir Lionel demanded of Admiral
Stonekipper.

"Chap by the name of Forbes, I believe. If what
Summer says is true, he won't be much longer."

"You should have someone at the helm who knows
his business," said Glasse.

"His business?" Summer shook her head in
disbelief. "And if Michael and I had been killed, would you have the
excuses at hand to explain it away?"

"I have no need of excuses to explain my
behavior, madam," he said coldly. "Whereas you, dear lady, will find
it downright uncomfortable if it is discovered you are withholding information
that would see Morgan Wade into our possession. I caution you against any such
treasonable actions, regardless of whether you feel you owe the man a debt of
gratitude."

Bennett was on his feet a split second before Harvey
Aslop. "That remark was uncalled for. My wife has been through a great
deal as it is without having to suffer your insolence. You will apologize at
once and remove yourself from this house."

Glasse's lips twisted down. "Naturally, I meant
no offense. Forgive me, Mrs. Winfield. I must confess to a certain degree of
zealousness where my pursuits are concerned." He stood and bowed formally
to her, then to Sir Lionel before walking to the door.

"And not a moment too soon," the governor
grumbled. "Another minute and I'd have called him out myself. Bennett,
Aslop— have a drink, lads, and calm yourselves down. He isn't worth the
sweat."

Admiral Stonekipper frowned at the soggy end of his
cigar. "He'll be trouble, though, mark my words. And not the best enemy to
be had, either. I've seen dozens of them in my day: troublemakers, warmongers.
They don't care who they fight as long as they find the jugular and are in for
the kill." He glanced up from beneath his brows. "If there is
anything at all in the bilges for Glasse to sniff out, my guess is he'll sniff
it. Likewise, if there is anything more you can tell us, Summer, you'd best
have it out now."

"I don't believe this," she cried
indignantly. "Are you doubting my loyalty now, too?"

"Good God, no," the admiral chortled.
"These two young whips'd have me flat out and gelded in no time . . . er,
pardon me."

"You did neglect to say anything about the
attack," Sir Lionel chided. "I'm all for admiring a fox who's cunning
enough to outwit the hounds all morning long—but it doesn't mean he shouldn't
be run to ground. And treason, by God! If the man's an Englishman—"

"Believe me, Father," she said bitterly,
"Morgan Wade is no more an Englishman than is his President Madison."

"Summer—"

"There is absolutely nothing more I can add to
what I have told you already. We were on the
Chimera
for seven days—two of them
anchored off Saint Martin. We sailed five days and five nights and were
attacked on the last day by a British frigate before we made it safely to an
island which I would not know again if I sailed directly past it! If this concludes
the interrogation,
gentlemen,
you will please excuse me. I seem to have developed a
sudden headache."

She stood up and swept past Bennett to the door. She
did not acknowledge the hasty murmurs or the call to "hold up there"
from her father.

"By Jove, she takes after her mother," he
grumbled, spreading his coattails to sit again. "Never once ended an
argument face-to-face with that woman, either."

"Well, she did tell us something we didn't
know," Lieutenant Aslop ventured to say when they were settled with cigars
and more brandy.

Bennett glared at him. "You'd best explain that,
sir."

"Oh, I meant no disrespect, Commodore. It's just
that, well, Mrs. Winfield did say five days and five nights, with the attack
occurring on the fifth day. As soon as the
Northgate
returns from patrol, her log
should tell us precisely where the . . . er, mishap took place. It narrows the
area for Bounty Key considerably."

"Do you know how many deep-water channels there
are in the Northern Crescent?" the admiral snorted.

"No, wait," Bennett said, narrowing his
eyes. "Aslop has a valid point. Summer said the
Northgate
had to veer sharply to avoid
running into an island. If one assumes she meant there was not a wide enough
berth for two ships to pass, she has given us more than a slim clue. Sir
Lionel, perhaps we could look at one of your charts of the West Indies?"

"Certainly m'boy." He led the way across the
hall into a paneled library. Every free foot of space on the walls was taken up
by charts, mounted and framed as if they were expensive works of art. Hung on
one wall was a large scale representation of the Caribbean with the islands
marked in as accurately as they were known. "Will this one do?"

"Splendidly. All right, Aslop." The
commodore stood in front of the chart. "Five days. You and I have
patrolled these islands as many times as any men. . . . where would a five-day
sail from Saint Barthélemy put us? We know the
Chimera
is a light frigate, third or
fourth rating comparably, smaller across the beam than the
Northgate
and much faster. She carries
three masts, and at full rigging can reportedly reach speeds in excess of
fifteen knots."

Admiral Stonekipper whistled appreciatively.

Bennett nodded grimly. "She's a beautiful design
to begin with, and I understand Wade has made several innovations over the
years, including armaments. He carries thirty-eight guns in his main
battery—twenty-four long guns and fourteen heavy carronades—plus an assortment
of lighter swivel guns and bow chasers. It is unusually fine equipment for a
privateer."

He turned back to the map. "As you say, there are
a thousand channels in these islands, but what we are looking for is a narrow
deep-water straight approximately four days' sail from Saint Bart's."

"She was taking on water," Aslop reminded
him. "That would slow Wade. And if it were me and my ship, I'd be inclined
to hang the risk and plot a course as direct as I dared."

Bennett nodded. "A steady nor' by nor'west,
according to Michael. Not at full sail . . . say eight, ten knots at the most.
He could have made it as far as the Cats, but I don't think so. He could have
veered during the night, back-tracked, threaded his way down through the Mona
Passage and ended up somewhere around Jamaica, but again, I don't think so. His
home port is somewhere in this area, gentlemen"—he circled an area of the
map with a finger—"I'd be willing to stake my gold braid on it."

"The Twin Sirens, sir," Aslop gasped
excitedly. "Almost dead center."

Bennett studied the map closely. "By God, you're
right. If that's the channel Summer was speaking of, we're damned lucky we
didn't lose the
Northgate
altogether."

Sir Lionel was craning his neck to see and holding his
wig in place at the same time. "What the blazes are you talking about? Why
should we lose a frigate up there?"

"Well, sir, Summer implied that the
Northgate
had a near miss with one of
the islands. The question was on my lips, just as I could see it on Glasse's,
but he let his pomposity get in the way." Bennett used his hands to act
out the motion of ship and land. "Why didn't the ship just tack around the
island and come at Wade from behind? One plausible reason could be the Twin
Sirens."

"They're part of a reef, sir," Aslop
explained further. "Bloody treacherous if you haven't been forewarned. The
Sirens look innocent enough, two cone-shaped islands in the middle of apparently
clear seas. But they are, in reality, only two visible tips of a vast ridge of
coral, most of it lying less than a fathom underwater. It stretches at least
ten miles in either direction, and the only way through it—"

"Is through the Sirens," Sir Lionel guessed.

"Or the Sisters, as they have been dubbed,"
Bennett said. "The channel dividing them is a natural rift in the coral,
but you have to approach it just so or you risk tearing the keel off your ship.
As I understand it, the Sisters were a favorite killing ground for pirates.
They could either give chase to a ship and watch it trap itself on the reef, or
they could lure it into the channel and have the currents do most of the work
for them. For Wade to have anchored there means he knows those waters damn
well. He'd have to know the winds and the currents like the back of his hand to
risk it."