The Pirate Captain (96 page)

It was a dark night, the moon yet to make its appearance. Nathan seemed unmindful. He made his way down the starlit road like a cat, never stepping a wrong foot, while catching Cate as she stumbled. There was none of his customary breeziness or witticisms, however. He had been quite open with his disapproval of this entire endeavor, but he was now quite closed, resolved to see this through.

Hopetown lay in a direct line between them and Lady Bart’s. The line of his mouth growing a little grimmer, Nathan led Cate on a darting path through the town’s outskirts to the road that led to the estate. Once there, he found invisible paths through the bushes and into the gardens, presumably the same ones he had used to find her shortly after Harte had brought her there.

The dark hulk of the house could be seen ahead. It and most of its inhabitants were at rest, a majority of the windows dark. The sight of a guard caused Nathan to jerk back, pushing Cate to the ground behind a dense rosebush. Standing over her, his hand poised over his sword, Nathan peered around. A dance of fingers indicated she was to stay low and quiet; the guard was coming their way.

Seeing no other option, Cate tugged at her neckline, pulling the edge of her bodice low across her bosoms.

“What are you doing?” Nathan hissed.

“Going to take care of a guard,” she whispered back. Cupping an arm under her breasts, she gave them a plumping lift. “I’ll be right back.”

To a hoarse rasp of Nathan’s objections, she stepped out into the gravel path. She tousled her hair, and then set to huffing, as if she had been running a long distance, and spurted down the path in the direction of the guard.

“Please!” She ran up to the guard, his musket brandished. She leaned heavily on his arm, while she gulped for air. “Help!”

“Ma’am?” He was startlingly young, his voice breaking in an uneven timbre between lad and man.

“Help me!” She braced her hands on her knees. Bent ostensibly to catch her breath, the position put the full of her cleavage on display. “I need to see Lady Bart.”

“No one’s allowed in or…”

“Please! I’ve just escaped from those pirates. They could be right behind me. I need to see her about her niece.”

“I heard she was returned.” Somewhere in his mind, that bit of coincidence seemed to add to her veracity.

“No! Pray, I beg, I have word. I need to speak to Lady Bart, please.” She gave his arm a familiar squeeze and, through the heavy breathing, batted her lashes.

He glanced into the darkness, uncertain. “Very well, then, this way—“

“No, no!” She rounded her eyes, as if in fear. “The pirates, they’re chasing me. Someone needs to be here to protect us.”

Torn between duty and a woman in distress, the former won. The lad straightened and squared his thin shoulders.

“Very well, ma’am,” he said, striving to keep his voice deep. “Follow that path; it will take you ‘round to the servant’s entrance.”

“Thank you, and please, have care. Those pirates are dangerous.”

As advertised, the semi-familiar path led to the house. Cate made her way around through the cooking wing and inside. At such an hour, there were few servants about. Some recognized her and bobbed a bow, or dipped a curtsey, but most paid little attention as she made her way through the scullery and service areas. Most servants knew what to see and not see, when it came to the comings and goings of a household, and she banked on that now as she made her way up the servants’ stairway. On the second floor, it opened into a room-sized linen closet, dark and smelling of cloth and starch. Groping her way along the shelves, she found the door and slipped out.

The hallway was deserted, most of the lights snuffed for the night. She knew Prudence was there, the question was where? As Cate crept down the hall, she heard a door open, and froze. Silently chanting, “The best way to fit in, is to look like you belong,” she straightened and forced her feet to move. The door closed and a woman looked up. Her eyes flew open as Cate recognized Sally at the same time.

“Mistress Cate, you shouldn’t be here. The Commodore is still here—”

“Yes, I’m sure,” Cate cut in. “I’m looking for Prudence. Which is her room?”

“Just there,” said Sally with a tilt of her head toward the door across the hall. “Her nanny is there now, I believe. Miss Prudence downstairs with Lady Bart.”

Cate’s stomach griped at the thought of the salon filled with Lady Bart’s guests. “How many are there tonight?”

“Only Miss Prudence and Her Ladyship; the rest have left, for now, except the Commodore. God knows, they’ll return soon enough to live off her good graces!” she declared, rolling her eyes. “We’ll check her room first, just to be sure.”

A scratch at the door, and Sally pushed her way in, Cate close behind. She recognized the room as the same she had occupied, flounced and laced within an inch of its life. A small woman, clad mostly in black, rose from a chair, a bit of mending dangling from her hand. Her eyes matched the fine wisps of gray hair that escaped from under her cap. Cate hung back as Sally surged forward.

“Miss Fran, do you know where Miss Prudence might be?” asked Sally.

Round-faced and well past middle-age, the top of her cap barely coming to the level of Cate’s chin, the woman bobbed a curtsey while regarding Cate with suspicion. “The young Miss is downstairs with Lady Bart, in the parlor, I believe.”

Brushing past Sally, Cate moved closer to Miss Fran. “Are you Nanna?”

The woman blinked, taken back. “Why, yes, how did you know?”

“Prudence spoke of you a great deal and quite kindly,” Cate said.

Nanna stiffened, rearing back her head to glare down her nose. “Are you Cate?” She almost spit the name.

“Why, yes—”

“A fine lot of good you did the poor girl!”

Cate jerked back as if bitten.

“You’ll mind your tongue, you old biddy,” hissed Sally.

“I’ll not!” Nanna advanced on Cate, the little body rigid. “The
least
you could have done was protect the child from the…the…the horrible ordeal!”

“I know being kidnapped was a trial,” Cate said, scrambling to recover. “I…I mean we meant to see to her comforts, but—”

“Hogwash!” Nanna burst with a withering glare. “We all know what has been done. And now the poor girl has been ruined by that…monster!”

“I beg your pardon?” Cate flared back.

“She’s been violated!”

The very idea was so astoundingly absurd, Cate’s first impulse was to laugh, but found she couldn’t.

“No,” Cate wheezed. The air seemed to have suddenly been sucked out of the room. “No! You mean…No, no, no. That’s not right. That’s impossible—”

“There’s no sense to be had in lying to protect the blackguard,” Nanna fumed. “She’s been examined by a doctor. There are
no
doubts!”

The room took an odd tilt.

“That’s not right,” Cate implored to Sally. Of all people, she would agree. “You know it’s not. Nathan wouldn’t…I mean, he couldn’t have—”

A guilty pang stabbed high under her ribs. She had asked Nathan to do that very thing, and yet, he had—they had—agreed it was out of the question. But this…this hadn’t been her intent. Had he done it anyway?

Sally patted Cate’s shoulder, crooning like a mother hen, “I know, I know. You don’t have to make excuses for him. We all know how they are.”

“
They
are!” Cate yanked free. Confusion fell away, and to a cold calm. “Where is she? I need to speak to her, now!”

“I’ll not have you upsetting her by—” Nanna began.

Cate whirled around on her, her hands balling into fists. “She’s upset things quite enough. I came here—Nathan came here—to try to help her out of this marriage.”

“Is the Captain with you?” Sally ran to the window, pulled back the curtain and craned her neck.

“Yes, he is.” Cate glanced nervously toward the night, and then the clock on the mantel, painfully aware of Nathan watching the house, waiting. “I mustn’t keep him waiting; he could be caught—we both could be caught. Do you really think Nathan would have come, if any of this outlandish nonsense were true?” she asked, rounding back on the
au pair
.

“What purpose would the child have in lying?”

“She’s no child.” Instantly regretting her outburst, Cate drew a calming breath, and began again. “Miss Fran, I beg—”

“Why are you so willing to help her?” Nanna demanded coldly.

“I’ve been worried for her, as should any person with any sensibilities.”

The rebuke wasn’t lost on Nanna, who sputtered in indignation.

With considerable effort, Cate collected herself, and ventured toward her. “You must tell me what your feelings are regarding Prudence’s impending marriage. Please, be honest. Look past what may or may not have happened, if you possibly can, look to the child’s future, and tell me what you think.”

Cate held her breath. If Nanna agreed, something could be done for Prudence, if not…it could be a long walk to the awaiting longboat, and there would be no living with Nathan.

Like most domestics, Nanna wasn’t accustomed to being asked her opinion. That shock gave way to indecision, her lips pursing into a tight bow shape.

“Trust her, woman,” Sally hissed from the window. “She’s only trying to do what’s right for your girl.”

Nanna’s features compressed tighter, to the point of resembling a small black teapot set to explode.

“I think it’s reprehensible the way Master Collingwood has shipped that glorious child away to marry a total stranger, knowing nothing of his family or character, and without so much as a by-your-leave,” Nanna finally burst out.

Cate expelled a rush of relief. “Then we must help her. I’m not sure either,” she said to their questioning stares. “But we have to think of something, and quickly. Please, can you take me to her?”

The journey through the halls and down the stairs gave Cate time to formulate a plan, and then count the near-dozen holes that perforated it. Prudence stood as the next obstacle. Up until a few moments ago, it had been a struggle to imagine why the girl would object, but now, what she would do was anyone’s guess. The last and biggest obstruction was Lady Bart,
grande dame
and dowager mistress of the island. If she chose to go along with Cate’s plan, her word would rule. If she chose not…

Cate found herself wondering what the garrison’s cells would be like, since they promised to be home for her remaining days.

She swallowed down a bilious lump, only to have it rise again. Coherent thought came with difficulty, her mind being so filled with images of Nathan’s fingers entwined in Prudence’s glossy curls, and his hands on that milky bosom.

I never took a woman unwilling in me life.

Charm her,
she had begged him. She had felt the power of those eyes and that smile, inadvertent as it might have been on his part. She could barely imagine the affect of those charms when he meant it.

He wouldn’t do it!

She clung to that thought like a talisman, while riding a downward spiral of doubt. She had lived elbow to elbow with him for nearly two months. Nathan was no predator. He was no knight in shining armor, but neither was he a goatish, rapacious brute. There was no denying that he was the king of deception, but he wasn’t that good, not on that count.

Prudence was the greater puzzle. She had been on the verge of tears at the prospect of leaving the
Morganse
. A girl who had been violated wouldn’t offer to tell everyone of Nathan’s kindness. It defied all reason that the girl could manage that in the aftermath of something so horrific.

Damn you!
she thought, without really knowing who it was meant for.

At the bottom of the stairs, Cate was surprised when Sally veered in the opposite direction of the salon, and instead led them down the hallway to another room. It was somewhat smaller than the salon. The tall windows and rows of shelves that lined the walls suggested it had once been the library or a man’s study. It had been emasculated, however, with layers of frill and flower. Legions of porcelain figurines and framed silhouettes had replaced the books on the shelves. Delicate-legged velvet and crewel-worked chairs looked to be on their tiptoes on the floral-patterned carpets and polished mahogany floor. Satin and lace pillows dotted chairs and settees.

Prudence and Lady Bart sat on either side of a lamp when the small parade of women entered. Prudence was quick to rise. Freshly frocked, her hair neatly arranged underneath a pert cap, its lappets drawn under her chin, she looked considerably refreshed from the last time Cate had seen her.

“Cate, I’m so pleased to see you.” Prudence lunged forward to hug Cate, but then stiffened and backed away, muttering to the floor, “Whatever are you doing here?”

“I came to help you.” As Cate looked at the down-turned head, she saw something about the small shoulders she hadn’t expected to see: guilt. Then she realized what she had never seen: shock, nor anything near it.

If Prudence had been brutalized as she claimed, then where had been the shock or the trauma? The attacker might well have hidden it—Nathan was indeed the master of deception—but the victim, especially one as young and naïve as her, could not. She had seen the aftereffects of such an attack: the incessant sobbing and shaking, or the dazed, stuporous look, or the wild vacillation between them. Where had been the torn shift or petticoats, the stains from struggling on the ground, or even tousled hair? A woman violated—no matter the age—would not be the picture of well-being, bright-eyed and pink-cheeked, the next day.

Cate eyed Prudence with new suspicion and grudging respect—or was that contempt?—for the child was far more diabolical than previously credited.

“I should have thought the time for help would have been on the ship,” Lady Bart said harshly from her chair. “There’s blessed little to be done for the girl, now. I was shocked to learn you were on that ship with her…and all those…men. Shocking! I should have hoped common decency would have compelled you to do…something.”

“There was nothing to do, because there was nothing done, was there? Prudence,” Cate said, swiveling back around, “What did you tell everyone?”