Authors: Marcia Lynn McClure
“Privateer,” she mumbled in a whisper, shaking her head.
“James!” Baskerville scolded in a quiet breath.
Cristabel stood astonished at it all—in particular
, her own blindness. Having been abducted and taken aboard the
Chichester
, attacked by pirates and Bully Booth, flung into the sea by Navarrone, intoxicated with rum—all of it was certainly reason enough that her mind might not have been as quick-witted as usual. Even so, she could not fathom how she had not thought of it before.
When dispatched, Letters of Marque granted the bearer permission to attack
the enemy of the country from whence it was issued. Enemy ships were often then gifted to the issuing country as fortification for the naval fleet. Some Letters of Marque required privateers to divide other booty captured with the issuing government or monarchy. Cristabel wondered whether Navarrone were in breach of his letter by not declaring the treasures the crew of the
Merry Wench
had found aboard the
Chichester
. Still, she wondered if the circumstances—there being traitors so close to the governor—allowed him pardon for not revealing the existence of the treasure.
“May I inquire as to
whom these men are who accompany you, Governor?”
“Of course, Captain Navarrone,” Governor Claiborne answered.
Navarrone’s
question had drawn Cristabel’s attention away from her astonished realizations. Having momentarily forgotten she was in disguise, Cristabel glanced over her shoulder toward William and Richard Pelletier.
“Straight ahead, James!” Baskerville scolded in a whisper.
“Are you mad, boy? The cap’n will have your head for…”
Baskerville’s words stopped cold as he glanced down to Cristabel the very instant she glanced up to him.
“Oh, sweet Mary Murphy!” Baskerville exclaimed. Cristabel fancied his face grew pale as death as he stared at her. He frowned then, and she could see his jaw clenching with fury. “Keep your hat low…James,” he instructed, “and your gaze straight ahead.”
“Aye,” Cristabel whispered.
She was found out! What punishment would be inflicted on her and James? Would Navarrone truly put them under the cat?
“This is William Pelletier,” Governor Claiborne then explained to Navarrone.
Cristabel tugged at the brim of her hat, hoping to shade her eyes more thoroughly. “And his nephew Richard. They have a particular interest in the
Chichester
.”
“And what might that be?” Navarrone asked.
Cristabel listened with more intent than ever she had listened before.
“Would you allow them to address you concerning the matter, Navarrone?” the
governor inquired.
“Are they to be trusted?” Navarrone queried.
“Of course, my friend!” Governor Claiborne assured him. “I have known William Pelletier for years now. He is a true patriot and defender of the people.”
“Then allow them to speak, of course.”
Cristabel closed her eyes—gritted her teeth in resisting the temptation to look over her shoulder once more. Oh, how she wished to see William Pelletier writhing with rage over his lost treasure! Yet suddenly she realized how selfish she had been in accepting James Kelley’s place in the pirate away party. If she were found out, a battle might ensue. Navarrone and the other crewmen of the
Merry Wench
might be injured or killed!
Cristabel opened her eyes once more
and fought the panic quickly rising in her. What had she been thinking? Where had her good sense gone? Why had she agreed to such a ruse? Yet it was not James’s fault, for he was only a boy, and she should have been wiser.
Nevertheless, it was too late to choose differently.
The only course was to remain calm—unnoticed.
“Navarrone…I am William Pelletier,” Cristabel heard William say.
“This is my nephew Richard.”
“And what is your matter concerning the
Chichester
?” Navarrone inquired.
Cristabel held her breath
, waiting for William’s response. Would his temper flare, revealing him as the traitor she knew him to be?
“Governor Claiborne has told us that the
Chichester
carried only the expected stores and supplies in her hold,” William answered.
Cristabel bit her lip to keep from smiling.
He would reveal his treachery—there before the governor of Louisiana—she was certain of it! Boundless joy swelled in her bosom, for he would be hanged as a traitor, and her mother would be free of him.
“Yes,” Navarrone deceived.
“The expected measures for such a ship and crew.”
“Yet tell me,” William began, “did you find any evidence of…”
He paused, and Cristabel’s joy heightened.
“Of what
, sir?” Navarrone queried.
“Of a woman, sir,” William finished.
Cristabel’s heart leapt into her throat.
Her anger was suddenly full aflame! He was not going to admit to owning knowledge of the treasure?
“A woman, Mr. Pelletier?” Navarrone asked.
“A young woman,” Richard interjected. “We are in search of a missing young woman of our acquaintance.”
There was a pause.
Cristabel knew Navarrone was as astonished as she was—or at least closely as astonished. Could it be that William Pelletier was not a man to sell women into slavery? Could it be he was not behind her abduction and the vast riches found aboard the
Chichester
? Could it be he was no traitor? Yet Cristabel knew he was vile and treasonous.
“Hold,” Baskerville mumbled.
Cristabel inhaled a deep breath, attempting to calm herself.
“I have heard nothing of a missing young woman,” Navarrone said.
“And why might a woman of your acquaintance be found aboard an enemy ship, sir?”
Oh, but he was clever!
Navarrone had posed the question before the governor; it was a thinly veiled accusation. Yet he could easily claim ignorance.
“She is Cristabel Albay…Richard’s betrothed,” William answered.
“It appears…loath as I am to utter it…Richard and I have recently discovered evidence that has led us to believe that Cristabel Albay may be a traitor.”
“What?” Governor Claiborne exclaimed.
Cristabel was thankful the governor had himself exclaimed, for the sound had masked her own exclamation of the same word.
“Hold you
r temper, miss,” Baskerville growled.
“It is true,” Richard said.
“I found letters—correspondence between Cristabel and a childhood friend…a man…a British man. It seems they have kept their communications open these long years.”
“We believe Cristabel conspired to meet this bloody Brit…to off with him to
England,” William added.
“In his correspondence
, the enemy sailor mentions his duties as boatswain aboard the British
Chichester
,” Richard supplied.
“Indeed,” Navarrone said—and Cristabel sensed a new panic rising in her.
What if Navarrone believed Richard’s tale? What if he determined Richard to be the truth-teller and Cristabel the liar? Yet surely he was too wise, too smart, and too clever for it. She knew he was. Her confidence in Navarrone’s wit was unwavering. Still, she feared his confidence in her character was not so strong.
“
Did you find evidence of a woman aboard the ship?” the governor inquired.
“In fact, we did, Governor,” Navarrone admitted.
Cristabel was rendered breathless with disappointment, fear, and heartache. He had given her up! She would hang for treason—but in that moment she was most disturbed by the fact that Navarrone had given her up.
“You did?” Richard asked
, frantic.
“Yes,” Navarrone confirmed.
“I believe the woman you are seeking may have been this Cristabel Albay—though I do not think she was there of her own free will.”
“What do you mean?” the
governor asked.
“When we boarded the
Chichester
,” Navarrone began, “she was already under heavy attack by the
Screaming Witch
.”
“So these bloody Brit
seadogs were telling the truth of it,” Governor Claiborne said.
“Yes,” Navarrone confirmed.
“Captain Bully Booth’s men had slaughtered many of the
Chichester
’s crew…though Booth himself, coward that he was, remained on his own quarterdeck. I glanced up during the battle to see a young woman in his clutches.”
“A dark-haired young woman?” Richard inquired.
“Yes,” Navarrone said. “Bully Booth was killed, and the
Screaming Witch
set sail.”
“And the girl?
She was aboard when they set sail?” William asked.
“She was aboard
the
Screaming Witch
,” Navarrone replied.
“Yet how can we be certain it was Cristabel Albay the
y took?” Richard queried.
There was silence a moment
, and then Navarrone answered. “After we had taken the
Chichester
, my men were seeing to the dead. I was summoned, for one of the wounded Brits had a tale to tell. He told me that a woman had been brought, against her will, to the
Chichester
in the dead of night days before. The crew was ordered not to speak to her.”
“Taken against her will?” Governor Claiborne pressed.
“Yes.
The lad said she was brought aboard by men…French Acadians…Americans.”
“Impossible!” the
governor exclaimed.
“So it is easier then to believe that
a young woman would herself make the arrangements to meet an enemy ship when we are at war?” Navarrone offered.
“That is all the proof you have of her?” Richard asked.
“The testimony of a dying Brit?”
“That, and the severed finger we found on the
Chichester
’s deck,” Navarrone said.
“Severed finger?” Governor Claiborne mumbled.
“Yes,” Navarrone said.
“I hope you are not angry, but I kept it as a souvenir…being that I was gifting you the ship, Governor.”
There was silence.
Cristabel remembered then that Navarrone had taken the ring Richard had gifted her as an engagement endowment.
“We found the finger in the British
captain’s cabin,” Navarrone said. “There were three others with it…a woman’s fingers.”
“The bloody Brits cut off her fingers?” the
governor asked with disgust.
“Or Bully Booth himself,” Navarrone suggested.
“Though…Booth would never have left such a trinket as this behind him.”
“I
ndeed, it is my ring,” Richard said. “The one I purchased and gifted Cristabel.”
“I think perhaps you know then, sir…the whereabouts of your missing young woman,” Navarrone said.
“She is aboard
the
Screaming Witch
then,” William offered.
“Or perhaps sold into white slavery,” Navarrone suggested.
“There are white slavers operating out of New Orleans, Governor…as you, no doubt, are aware.”
“No,” the
governor admitted. “I was not aware of it. How came you by such a knowledge?”
“Privateering, sir.
One must have ears in all places to succeed,” Navarrone said. “Cheer up, lad,” he exclaimed then. “Perhaps your lady bled to death from the loss of her fingers and was not sold into slavery. Keep the ring. It is yours, after all…and a reminder of your beloved.”
“And you found nothing else in the hold?” Richard asked.
“In the barrels and crates of stores? Only food and other necessaries?”
“Inquire of Governor Claiborne, Richard Pelletier,” Navarrone said.
“The ship and all her riches belong to him now.”
“May we see the stores, Governor?” William queried.
“Why
, of course,” the governor agreed. “But what could you hope to find to offer further information about this Cristabel?”
“Perhaps more fingers?” Navarrone suggested.
He was baiting William and Richard—implying he knew what they would not find in the barrels and crates stored in the
Chichester
’s hold—for he had already taken it.
“Perhaps,” Richard said.
“By all means, investigate, William,” the
governor said. “My men will escort you to the
Chichester
in the morning. Meanwhile, you are dismissed, for I must speak with Captain Navarrone without any citizens present…in order to conclude these matters.”
“Yes, Governor,” William nearly growled.
“Come along, Richard. I believe we have the information we were seeking here.”