Microsoft Word - Sherwood, Valerie - Nightsong (8 page)

The worldly Spaniard, whose very name conjured up daring and dashing deeds in the hearts of the mantillaed ladies of New Spain, was falling in love.

He cared not what he said or what she said that magical night-it was enough just to be in the same room with her, to devour her with his eyes. And to imagine. Especially to imagine.

He would be back for this woman one day, he told himself. He would come back at the head of an invading host, he would wrest her from her buccaneer, he would make this glorious wench love him!

"It is too bad you are not staying in Port Royal," she told her guest wickedly at parting. "For you could have met our neighbor, Monsieur Deauville, who is lately from France. Perhaps you know him already-he is from Marseilles, too."

Raymond du Monde assumed a suitably melancholy mien. "A pity indeed," he agreed with a sigh. "I should have been overjoyed to make Monsieur Deauville's acquaintance, but there is no time."

"Ah," she murmured sympathetically, but with mischief flashing in her eyes. "Being from the same city, you would have much to talk about."

"I have been gone from Marseilles a long time," he told her vaguely. "But I spent my youth there." A misspent youth, she had no doubt! But she smiled at Monsieur du Monde and let him kiss her hand in parting. "I am sorry Hawks is not here to accompany you home," she told him regretfully. "The streets of Port Royal are dangerous by night."

The streets of Port Royal were dangerous at any time, but her departing cavalier started as if stung. "I will manage to win my way through them," he promised her sternly.

"I am sure you will," she said, hiding her mirth, for if ever she had met a dangerous man, she was sure it was this one. Perhaps not so formidable as Kells but-formidable nonetheless. "I bid you good evening then, Monsieur du Monde," she said demurely.

"And wish you well in all your endeavors."

He gave her an odd look as he left-but then, of course, he told himself, she could have no idea what those endeavors might be.

John Daimler looked up as Raymond du Monde entered.

"Well, Ramon," he growled. He had been imbibing large amounts of wine as he worried about his reckless -and unwanted-guest, and his voice was roughened by it.

"And how did your dinner with Captain Kells go?"

"Oh, Kells was not yet back from the Cobre so I dined with his delightful lady," was the airy response. "She has no peer among women, Juan-none at all."

"She's a clever wench to boot," agreed his host sourly. "I hope you were close-mouthed, else she might have found you out!"

"I was discreet. Besides, who could doubt me? Do I not make a fine Frenchman, Juan, rigged out in these French silks?"

John Daimler snorted. All the wine he had drunk had made him bolder. "I hope the Silver Wench has not got such a hold on you as to make you stay in this place, for it's death that's staring us in the face if you do. His lady may not discover you for what you are, but Kells will ferret you out in five minutes!"

"Oh, surely he is not so great an adversary as that! Dangerous I will admit but-"

"Oh, deliver me from your banter!" Daimler slammed his heavy tankard down with a force that rocked the oaken table. "Do ye go tonight or don't ye?"

"I go tonight, John," sighed Ramon. "And I will leave you these French clothes to sell and thus help provide for the men I'll be sending you."

"The men you'll-?" John stopped to stare.

"Yes, a month from now-two months at the latest-a pinnace will be arriving from Havana. You'll know her--she'll be the same one I arrived in and will leave in, this night. And she'll bear armed men."

John fell back; his face lost color. "You're planning to attack Port Royal from a pinnace?"

His guest sighed. "You didn't let me finish, John. My plan has not yet been approved by Spain-but it will be, never fear. I will send my pinnace with a small advance guard-fifteen men, no more. They will all be hand-picked. And I'll be arriving in force to lead them, John, with a fleet of warships behind me. This early group will look like Englishmen, talk like Englishmen, they'll make friends at the forts-that way they won't be noticed when they slip in and cause havoc during the attack."

"And my part in all this?" "Only to find them housing, John. And pass on to them any messages I manage to send."

John Daimler was staring at the shadow of a hanging iron chandelier suspended from the ceiling. The shadow suddenly looked to him like a noose. Indeed he could feel the hemp around his suddenly perspiring neck at this moment. With big spatulate fingers he loosened a collar grown suddenly too tight, and jumped as a cheerful Ramon clapped him on the back. "Don't look so glum, John. 'Tis a lieutenant governorship you can look forward to!"

More likely a gibbet, thought John. But he was in it now-too late to back out. This Spanish devil would find a way to wreck him if he did. "Aye, I've that to look forward to," he echoed in a hollow voice.

Carolina, who had only been exchanging friendly banter as she bade her departing guest good-by, had no idea of the amount of heat she had engendered. Had you asked her, she would have answered frankly that Raymond du Monde was attractive, yes. And that he had a way of looking at a woman with those tawny gold eyes that must have seduced many an unwary maid.

But she, of course, would never be one of those, she would have added airily. Still-it had been an unexpectedly delightful evening. Since Kells chose to be on what seemed to be one of his interminable trips up the Cobre River of late, at least she had had good company!

She tripped lightly up the stairs in her jadegown,and once in her own room viewed a flushed, rather excited face in the beveled mirror. That reflection brought her up short. Had she looked so to the Frenchman? she asked herself uneasily. Like an excited young girl? Her color rose at the thought. And this necklace that glimmered so barbarically around her neck, she really should not have worn it-it was flaunting their wealth. True, Raymond the Frenchman had been well-dressed this evening, but many a man had a good suit of clothes and no prospects. All in all, she felt rather ashamed of herself to have made such a display.

She removed the necklace, went to the huge trunk with the curved top, and opened it. Rummaging down, she slipped aside the trunk's false bottom, swiftly opened the teak and silver box, and dropped the necklace inside to rest on its dark red velvet interior. A moment later and the trunk's false bottom had slid back into place. Resting on that false bottom was an identical teakwood and silver box, and inside that box was what appeared to the casual glance to be a duplicate necklace. It had been made for the Duchess of Lorca, and now Carolina owned them both-the fake and the original.

And she kept them one atop the other with the trunk's false bottom in between just in case someone managed to penetrate the house and find the necklace. A thief would not want to be burdened with this enormous heavy trunk-he would snatch the silver-encrusted box containing the first necklace he came to-e-and he would depart with the wrong necklace. The original would be safe below.

She heard a sound at the door and saw that Gilly had opened it and stood watching her with those avid brown eyes.

Carolina frowned. "You must learn to knock before opening doors, Gilly."

Gilly looked dismayed. "I only asked Cook if I couldn't come up and help you get undressed-all those hooks and things." In point of fact, Cook had thrown a wooden spoon at Gilly and told her to get out of the kitchen; if she stayed there'd be nothing but broken crockery since she'd already dropped a bowl and managed to demolish two plates, but Gilly saw no need to mention that.

Carolina relented. "All right, Gilly," she sighed. "You can come in and unhook me although usually Betts does that."

Gilly flashed her a bright insincere smile, and moved forward with alacrity. Had Carolina been looking into the mirror she would have seen Gilly's face, alight with avarice, staring first at the back of Carolina's white neck, now devoid of the necklace, and then at the big curved-top trunk that she had seen closing as she entered.

It would be easy, Gilly was thinking. Easy. ... Jarvis, her lover, had told her it would be easy, and she had not believed him. Now she knew that she could pull it off, all by herself. Jarvis was impatient, but now that she thought about it, there was no hurry.

She would bide her time, she would become a trusted servant, and in her own time she would pick a quarrel and leave the house with the necklace-and someone else would take the blame, for she would be far away. She would be smart this time-not like that time in Bristol when she'd stolen the gold and jet mourning ring and gotten herself thrown in jail and then been transported for her pains. If the ship hadn't foundered and her papers been lost, she'd be slaving away as a bondservant at this very moment! As it was, she was but one of a handful rescued from the sea-and none of the others knew about her. She'd made up a story and it had been believed.

After that she'd drifted.

But now she saw her future clear. She could buy herself a golden world-with the necklace. Just the gold links would take her any place she wanted to go. And the rubies and diamonds, why, they could buy her a new life! And why should Jarvis share in that future? Oh, she needed time to think, to plan.

"You should have thanked our French guest for saving you today." Carolina tossed the words over her shoulder.

Gilly paused in her unhooking. "He may be French," she said scornfully, "but he's lying if he says he comes here from New Providence! I'd have remembered him!"

Carolina turned slowlyaround. "You came here from New Providence?" she said in an altered voice. Too late, Gilly realized her error. "I was ship-wrecked," she said hastily. "I come from Bristol, like I told you."

Those silver eyes were contemplating her now, seeing her more clearly. "Were you there long, Gilly?" Carolina asked almost casually.

"Not so long," mumbled Gilly. Carolina's scrutiny made her nervous. "I thought to do you a good turn by telling you he ain't what he said he was," she defended.

"And so you may have. . . ." murmured Carolina, asking herself why a man would claim to be from New Providence when he was not. New Providence was the sinkhole of the western world. Surely there was no credit to be gained by claiming acquaintance with such a place!

Encouraged by Carolina's words, Gilly rushed on, determined to ingratiate herself.

"And he didn't describe Rouge right either. Rouge ain't no-whatever he said."

"Amazon," said Carolina absently. "It means a warrior woman."

"Well, I don't know as I would call Rouge that either," said Gilly in an injured voice.

"It's true she's tall and she wears men's clothes, and I've heard tell she could fight with a cutlass, but I never seen her do it. Rouge is beautiful!" she burst out. "She has more red hair than I ever seen and when her eyes flash, there's not a man on New Providence that doesn't turn to look at her!"

"Indeed?" Carolina's brows elevated at such heat from Gilly. "And what is Rouge to you, Gilly?"

"Nothin'," mumbled Gilly. "But," her voice flared up, "Rouge was good to me. When Ace and Black-boots wanted to throw dice for me, Rouge said she'd have Fletch kill the pair of them if they didn't let me alone."

"I see." Carolina gave her new serving girl an odd look. "It would seem that you are perpetually being saved, Gilly. First by the famous Rouge and now by the Silver Wench." Her voice held a scathing note. "But that hardly explains how you got to Port Royal, does it?"

Gilly swallowed. She hadn't realized Carolina would ask her that.

"You came here on some pirate ship out to survey the local shipping, out to watch the merchantmen who came here to trade with the buccaneers and catch up with them later after they'd left with their goods, didn't you?" asked Carolina in a hard voice.

"Didn't you?"

Gilly was looking at her in panic. "Yes, I did," she cried. "But I run away-leastways I tried to run away, and they caught me and put me in Sadie's house. She dressed me up in Tilly's petticoat and her own chemise and said it was enough for me to wear, I'd look juicier to her clientele!" She began to sniffle. "And I managed to get my dress back and put it on over the top of them, and I jumped out the window onto a cart and slid off the cart, and I was running away with them chasing me when I tripped and fell-and that's when I looked up and saw you!"

It wasn't true, of course. Jarvis had indeed taken her to Sadie's brothel, and while there she had idly filched the chemise and petticoat. She had been dancing around the front room, showing off. Jarvis had come in at that moment, muttering excitedly that the Silver Wench in a yellow dress had left her house and was strolling toward High Street. Gilly had hurried outside and Sadie and Tilly, noting their clothes disappearing with her, had given chase. Where upon Gilly had thrown herself down at Carolina's feet.

But to Carolina, Gilly's story was believable. Terrible things happened in this part of the world, worse yet in New Providence. It was entirely possible that Gilly had been spirited here to wear away her youth in a brothel, and had run from the place in terror.

"I'm sorry, Gilly," she said in a softer voice. "It was just that when you mentioned New Providence . . ."

"I know," Gilly said quickly. "It's an evil place. I never been anywhere so evil." Her curiosity got the better of her. "Have you ever been there?" she asked.

"No, thank God." Carolina shuddered. She turned as Betts knocked softly and entered. Betts gave Gilly an affronted look. "Never mind, Betts, I'm all unhooked,"

Carolina told the girl. "Find Gilly a place to sleep, won't you? I think Nell's old room would be best."

Betts started to protest because Nell's old cubbyhole of a room lay directly between hers and Cook's, and she didn't relish having Gilly as a neighbor! But the mistress seemed bent on favoring the street girl, even though she and Cook had both recognized Gilly for a bad one at first sight!

Gilly was smirking as Betts led her away.

Carolina's mind as she undressed for bed was not upon the handsome stranger who had devoured her with his eyes at dinner-nor even with her adventurous husband who was gone up the Cobre so unexplicably often of late: her mind was on Level Green and the world she had known in Virginia's Tidewater country. She sat long at her dressing table combing her long fair hair, but her troubled eyes did not see her beautiful reflection in the lovely beveled French mirror Kells had bought for her when they had first moved here: she saw instead her mother's reckless face, and the dark blue eyes seemed to hold a restless appeal.