The Diamond King (31 page)

She looked away, across the sea. The day was beautiful, bright with a sky so blue it made her eyes hurt, glorious with the sun weaving trails of gold across the sea. The
Ami
sprayed water as she sped along the sea, doing so well what she was created to do.

And what, she wondered, was she created to do?

* * *

Alex had thought it would be far easier to stay away from Jenna Campbell on ship than it had been in the same room with one bed.

Bloody damn fool thought.

He had tried to put all his concentration on the days ahead. He had planned to sail to Rio de Janeiro, but that was a busy port these days. He couldn’t risk it now.

The governor might well have told the British where he was heading. He’d made the mistake on his earlier visit of telling him. It had been foolish of him, but he’d believed the governor hated the British as much as he. He had not considered the fact that the governor feared them even more than he hated them.

He’d studied the maps. He would try Vit�ria, instead. It was a small dot on the map but not a great deal farther from the diamond mines than the other ports. His partner in France had told him that he should find a
bandeirante
, the term given to Brazilian explorers who discovered and exploited the diamond and gold fields. He’d been told the
bandeirantes
banded together in small groups under their own flag, usually with a priest among them. They might well know of diamonds that were not being shipped through the Portuguese government to Goa, where they were stamped as Indian diamonds.

In the meantime, he had his men repaint the name of the ship from the
Ami
to the
Isabelle
. The Portuguese flag was flying now, rather than the French one. He was trying to make other small changes as well. Not, he knew, that it would make much difference if they encountered the same British warship as before. They would recognize the sails immediately.

A week, perhaps ten days, and they should be at the port. Then what in the hell would he do with Jeanette Campbell? He doubted there would be an English ship in port. But perhaps he could find a respectable captain willing to sail her to Rio de Janeiro, where she could find passage to Barbados.

A mental image of her with the British plantation owner was like a sword thrust through his gut. Yet he had to give her that chance. He would also make sure she had enough money to go elsewhere if she wished. Enough to keep her safe.

And happy.

He wanted that now. He wanted it very badly. It no longer mattered that she carried a hated name.

He looked back toward her. Any man would be insane not to want her.

She had blossomed in the past few days. No longer was she covered from head to foot to fingers with garments that neither suited nor favored her. No longer did she keep her hair in an unattractive tight knot at the back of her head. No longer did she seem diffident and shy.

Now she stood on the deck, letting her hair flow free, her face glowing with the sun and wind, her eyes bright with the sensuous pleasure of the day, and he felt his heart softening with a need he’d never experienced before.

It wasn’t lust, although lust was certainly there. Instead, it was a need to be with her, to touch her, to hear that too-rare laugh. She’d been enchanting at the governor’s dinner, unlike the uncertain, though defiant, person he’d first met. She had been entranced with her own deviousness, weaving one false tale after another and enjoying their success even though a part of her, he thought, must be flinching. She was too honest to do otherwise. He had made an art of deceit these past months and yet she had been even better at it than he.

And she had been marvelous with Meg. The lass was far better physically, but also in other ways. For the first time, she was taking an interest in her appearance, making small improvements.

There were so many layers to Lady Jeanette Campbell, so many contradictions that he suspected it would take a lifetime to uncover all of them.

But he did not have a lifetime, particularly with a woman raised as a lady, even though she’d been badly treated by her family.

This was an adventure for her now, but she was the type of woman who needed a home and family, stability and respectability.

He expected never to be respectable again.

He had to do a far better job in avoiding her.

Still, his spirits lifted when she smiled at Meg, and when her hair caught golden glints from the sun. Part of her new awareness came from him, and he couldn’t help but relish that fact. Even as he knew it couldn’t last.

Vit�ria, Brazil

The island of Vit�ria—one of many islands in an archipelago along the Brazilian coast—was amazingly brilliant in color. The azure blue sea faded into a long white beach. The bay and beach interrupted a rocky coastline. A scattering of buildings fronted the harbor.

Alex had seen to it that the sailor with the sharpest eyes was stationed in the crow’s nest far above the main deck. He would keep someone there as long as they were anchored here.

The sun pounded down on the ship, and his men had taken off what clothes they could, considering the presence of three females. Sweat glistened on them. Most, including himself, were from countries with cold winters and mild summers and unused to the hot and humid tropical air.

He ordered the ship anchored, then silently cursed as Jenna and Meg appeared on deck. He nodded to her but did not approach.

He’d been successful in avoiding her this past week. He worked eighteen to nineteen hours a day, often doing physical work with the crew, then falling into a hammock in a cabin he shared with Claude. He realized it hurt her. Bloody hell, it hurt
him
.

He would destroy her if he allowed himself to get any closer to her. He could never marry her. It could well be a death sentence for her. At best, they would be fugitives all their lives.

Rory Forbes, the former Black Knave, had married
. The Black Knave had been wanted by the British. Alex’s mind turned that over, before he discarded it. Perhaps Forbes was alive. Perhaps he was not. But Rory’s wife had been a fugitive from Cumberland, a Jacobite marked for death. She’d had nothing to lose.

Jenna had everything to lose.

He turned his attention back to Vit�ria, the capital of the state of Esp
�
rito Santo. He looked for Marco, one of the crew who was Portuguese and would act as translator. Alex knew some Spanish, and the two languages—Spanish and Portuguese—had much in common.

“You and I will go ashore alone,” he said. “Claude will stay here. I want him ready to sail immediately if he sees another ship come in.” He looked at Marco closely. “We may be left.”

The man shrugged. “Every time I go to sea, I take risk.”

“We will leave in thirty minutes,” he said.

He turned back toward Jenna, who was standing with Meg. They were both looking toward the town as he approached them. Yet he knew Jenna was aware of his presence, just as he was always aware of her presence. She seemed to stiffen.

“Meg,” he said, “I want to talk to Lady Jeanette. Will you find Robin and send him up here?”

Meg looked at him curiously, but left without argument. For a moment, he just stood next to Jenna, enjoying the sense of rightness and belonging her presence gave him. There seemed no resentment on her part, only a guarded interest.

“I am going ashore for a few hours,” he said. “I told Claude to set sail if he sees a British ship.”

She nodded without comment.

He suddenly felt as uncertain as a schoolboy. “I... thank you for taking such good care of Meg.”

“I care about her,” she said simply.

“What do
you
want to do?” he asked. “I cannot take you back to your ... betrothed.” The word stuck in his throat, even knowing as he did that she had never met the man.

She turned and looked at him then as if she had no idea how to answer. It was the first indecision he’d seen in her. There had been defiance, anger, resentment, then a passion that had stunned him.

“If you wish to go on to Barbados, I’ll see if I can arrange it,” he said. “I will find you a ship. And I will give you funds to go anywhere you wish ... if it does not... if you do not want to stay with him.”

She lifted her chin. “I have enough money.”

“I saw what you had,” he said.

He saw in her eyes the realization that he had admitted searching her trunks. She hesitated, then said slowly, “I sewed some jewels and money in the hem of my dress.”

“The necklace you wore in Martinique. I thought I had missed it.”

“Nay.”

He was stunned. He hadn’t thought about that, but then he hadn’t had much to do with ladies’ garments lately. “Are you sure you should tell me that?”

“You just offered me money. I do not think you will steal what I have.”

“True,” he said. “But this is all my doing. You should not have to pay for it.”

“It has been an adventure,” she said. “I do not regret it.” She was silent for a moment, then added, “I have learned much.”

“About pirates?”

“Aye, about pirates who care about children. I remember when the captain of the
Charlotte
assured me there were no more cutthroats in the Caribbean, that the Royal Navy had cleared the seas of them, and I believed him. Then you appeared out of nowhere and I was so frightened.”

“You did not look frightened. You looked angry.”

Her eyes were wistful, and he wondered again how he ever thought she was plain. She attracted him as no other woman ever had, not even the bonny daughters of Jacobite lords, or the well-dressed women of Paris. The latter had smelled of too much perfume, and their hair was stiff. Jenna’s hair was soft with tints of gold. He remembered how it had felt in his fingers that night. It was a memory he’d tried to shed.

And now he wanted to run his fingers through the silken strands of her hair, and take her hand, and run a finger down her cheek.

Bloody hell, he sounded like some miserable poet.

Still, he couldn’t resist putting his hand on her shoulder, resting it there, reveling in the easy comfort of it. She’d thought so little of herself when they first met, though he had not realized it then. He could kill those Campbells who had made her feel that way. She was worth so much more than she had ever known.

She should have her chance.

She still had not answered his question.

“I want to stay here for a while,” she said.

“Here?”

“On the
Ami
. Or the
Isabelle
,” she quickly corrected herself.

“It is dangerous,” he said.

“I am very aware of that after the past several weeks,” she replied. “But Meg is here. And Robin. Perhaps I can go back to France and take care of the children.”

“Robin no longer considers himself a child,” he said, trying to hide his astonishment. She had said something like that before, but he had not taken it seriously. He would not have allowed her to take the children to the house of an Englishman.

Now she was offering to give up any life of her own for two orphans, both of whom had been anything but pleasant to her for the first few days. She asked nothing at all from him.

He’d thought his heart had been hardened against almost everything. The children had made cracks in it, though he’d tried to patch them. But now he felt swells of tenderness inside.

He told himself there could be nothing between them, no future. And she’d never mentioned the night they had spent together, nor made demands, nor said she cared about him.

She showed you.

And he had walked away from her, making no promises except one to himself not to further endanger her.

“Captain?” Robin’s voice broke his thoughts.

He turned, lowering his hand away from her shoulder, missing the feel of her.

“I’m going ashore, lad. Just Marco and myself. I want you to look after Meg and Lady Jenna,” he said, slipping into the name she preferred. He took a key from his pocket and gave it to Robin. “This is a key to a box in my ... in the lady’s cabin. It is for you and the children and Lady Jenna if I am delayed.”

“I want to go with you,” Robin said.

“You are grown up now,” Alex said. “You have responsibilities. I am entrusting Meg and Lady Jenna to you.”

“What about Claude?” Robin said.

“You are family,” Alex said. “I trust only you to do this for me.” He had already decided this was the only way Robin would stay aboard. And keep Meg with him.

Robin drew himself up. “Aye, sir.”

Jenna gave him a small smile as if she knew exactly what he was doing, but she did not say anything.

A most unusual woman.

He watched as the quarter boat was lowered. Some men manned the oars, then he and Marco climbed down the ladder and the boat started for shore.

He kept his gaze on Jenna. Meg had joined her, and Jenna had one arm around her. Robin stood on her other side, straight and sure and proud.

A large lump grew in his throat, and he turned away, toward the town that looked little more than a village.

A local drinking establishment was Alex’s first stop. After, that is, a few bribes were paid to the local authorities waiting for him to land.

Bribes were beginning to deplete his prize money quickly. He had also made arrangements for supplies, the stated reason for his arrival. That, and to repair damage caused by the storm. He’d not had time to make them in Martinique.

There was canvas to purchase and sails to be repaired. He also had some possessions taken from the prize ships that he intended to trade for coffee. Diamonds were something that he had no intention of handling through official sources.

He and Marco found the most disreputable tavern they could, one they were told was patronized by a few
bandeirantes
that had been to Minas Gerais, the Brazilian state where diamonds had been found.

One of the soldiers, to whom he’d slipped several gold pieces, told him to look for a Tomas Freres. If, he added with a leer, Alex didn’t care if his throat was slit.

Well, Alex had done his own share of slitting throats.