The Scent of Betrayal (24 page)

Saraille shook his head. ‘I had no idea until the news came from Fort Balize what those casks really contained. The first consignment of granulated sugar, yes, which made the loading of the ship an event. The truth came like a thunderbolt. That naturally
raised all sorts of questions, why he’d nearly bankrupted the colony to raise it, but more importantly, why he was sending it and to whom. It is a very odd thing for de Carondelet to have done.’

‘I take it that, given information you will use it to embarrass him.’

‘Of course. The
Moniteur
is the organ of French feeling in the colony. Our greatest wish is that the Spaniards cede the territory back to France.’

‘So far, you haven’t given us very much,’ said James. ‘Telling us to look at our fellow diners is small beer. Certainly not enough to warrant any reciprocation from us.’

‘I agree,’ said Saraille, then smiled when he saw that his response had surprised James. ‘But then I will have saved you a fruitless search for any other culprits.’

He paused for a moment, then looked up suddenly. ‘Tucker and Hyacinthe are on their way back. I know you don’t know me well enough to trust me, but I will be in your debt if you tell me what I want to know.’

‘Is it a debt you will repay?’ asked Harry.

‘Yes,’ gasped Saraille, slightly desperate.

Harry glanced at James, who nodded.

‘New York, Monsieur Saraille.’

The thank you was more of a breath than a word. He was getting to his feet as it was emitted, his pink jowls wreathed in a smile.

‘Mademoiselle,’ he cried, ‘how can I repay you!’

‘With a pair of new feet,’ she cried. ‘Tucker has quite destroyed the old ones.’

‘Have we done the right thing, Harry?’ whispered James.

Harry replied in an equally low voice. ‘I don’t know, brother. But that information locked in our heads had no use at all.’

‘Well, what do you think of Saraille?’ asked Hyacinthe, sitting down. Tucker made to follow but she shot him such a glare that he retreated, laughing.

‘Hard to say on such a short acquaintance,’ James replied.

‘You disappoint me, Monsieur. I thought that you would be the type to spot a slug when you see one. I spend my life dodging his fat frame and oily compliments. And he’s not to be trusted. I hope you didn’t tell him anything of a confidential nature.’

Both brothers shook their heads slowly. Hyacinthe threw back her head and let out a loud peal of laughter. ‘You look like two schoolboys who’ve been caught outside a young girl’s bedroom.’

Harry laughed first, but was soon followed by James. By the time Bernard brought another bottle of wine to the table all three were helpless.

‘Oh, how funny,’ Hyacinthe said, pounding her chest to stop herself. ‘And all this makes my decision so much harder.’

‘What decision?’ asked Harry.

‘Why, I have instructions to entertain you from Cayetano.’ She looked at them both with an intensity that made her more beautiful than ever. ‘But how can I decide between two such handsome creatures?’

‘What about El Señor de Coburrabias himself?’

‘He has other outlets for his passions.’

‘That’s good news,’ said Harry.

‘For me, also,’ added James.

‘But what am I to do?’

Harry’s next words, preceded by a pleading look aimed at his brother, were emitted with a quite evident strain.

‘Neither my brother nor I can accept your most generous offer, Mademoiselle Feraud.’

She touched him again, producing once more the sensation that ran all the way to his toes. ‘You are not of the same persuasion as the gentlemen in the corner?’

Harry turned, along with his brother, taking in the noisy group. Their hair was dressed with elaborate care, and each gesture made in their excited conversation had an exaggerated air. He smiled at what was clearly a joke.

‘We have a crew aboard the ship who require an assurance that their lives are not in danger.’

‘A task I am happy to perform,’ said James, standing up. ‘You stay, Harry, and I will go back to the ship.’

‘But …’

‘No buts,’ James cried. ‘And let me say that, flattering as you have been to me, Mademoiselle, I think you do prefer the forthright to the gallant.’

‘You have a sharp eye, Monsieur Ludlow.’

‘Which is a source of pride to me. Let me say that surrendering the field does not come easily. You are a remarkably beautiful woman.’

‘Thank you.’

‘James,’ said Harry, his voice slightly hoarse.

‘Not another word, brother. I shall leave Pender with you.’

‘My servant,’ said Harry, with a trace of guilt brought on by having completely forgotten about him. He turned to see if he was in view.

‘He is down in the taproom,’ said Hyacinthe, ‘swapping tall tales with some boatman. Monsieur Ludlow, Bernard will arrange for two of my most imposing footmen to escort you back through the town. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to so gallant a gentleman.’

Harry awoke, wondering why he was in a soft feather bed rather than his own cot. But not for more than a split second. Hyacinthe Feraud’s body was pressed against his, one willowy leg entwined as if seeking security. The silky skin was pleasantly hot and the natural odour of her body strong in his nostrils. She was still asleep, and all the more beautiful in repose. He felt the wonderful lassitude that comes from being utterly relaxed and images of the previous night’s passion floated through his mind. Harry, like all sailors, was no stranger to the bawdy-house. But this was, and had been, different. Hyacinthe, unless she was a wonderful, consummate
actress, had wanted him for himself, had felt that same tingling frisson the moment their bodies had come into contact. The fact that she was an experienced woman had added a wonderful dimension to their lovemaking.

Harry felt the slight ache in his groin brought on by erotic recollection. For some reason an expression of James’s, used humorously to describe tumescence, came into his mind. ‘A girding in the loins’ was a sort of private joke between two adult, experienced men, an expression at once so silly, and accurate, that it perfectly described the absurdity that often attended upon the condition. He felt his chest begin to heave, and fought to suppress the movement. That only made matters worse, and his shoulders shook. Hyacinthe, with her head crooked in the join between his arm and his body, was mildly disturbed. She groaned slightly and moved her thigh, seeking to get even closer to him. Since that was locked into his groin it did nothing to suppress his feeling of desire. It was so simple to turn upon his side, so pleasant to press his body against hers. She didn’t open her eyes but smiled as she rolled onto her back. Her jet black hair, long and glistening, spread across the pillow and her tongue slid out to wet her lips as Harry’s head dropped to her neck. The smell was overpoweringly sensual, mixed odours of human sweat, perfume, and sex all wafted up on the heat of her slim, graceful body. He felt again the slight shock at the sheer silky texture of her coffee-coloured skin. His hand was between her thighs, and as he touched her she moaned slightly. Impatiently her hand slid down and pulled him urgently forwards. Their lovemaking had none of the hungry immediacy of the previous night. It was slow, fluent, and quite profoundly better.

WHEN HARRY
woke up for the second time, not even the presence of a beautiful body could keep his mind off his troubles. Fortunately Hyacinthe had rolled away and was now curled up on the opposite side of the bed. Since berthing the day before, events had been driven by their own momentum, which gave him little time to think. He’d been forced to react as matters went from bad to worse. The idea that he could find de Carondelet’s property here in a strange city was, in the cold light of day, absurd. Little hope had been added by his encounters with either McGillivray or Saraille. The seeming indifference of the Governor to the idea of upsetting Britain was now explained by the state of his own country’s relations with Spain. If McGillivray knew that matters were close to a solution, then de Carondelet was privy to even more information. War was imminent. The Plate fleet usually sailed in spring, but of course the actual time varied as much as the route. And this one would be attended by more caution than most. Manuel de Godoy would know that once war was declared he’d have little chance of seeing another delivery of bullion from the New World.

Really the solution was simple: sling his French passengers ashore, tell de Carondelet the money was theirs, and let the two sort it out amongst themselves. Then he could weigh and get out of harm’s reach. But time was not pressing. The Plate fleet might be at sea, but it never made the journey home without stopping off at some other colonial centre such as Havana or Port au Spain. If they’d already set off into the Atlantic, their southerly course, designed to bring them close to home right off Cadiz harbour,
tended to take them into the prevailing winds. Even if they arrived early, and war was declared immediately, it could be November before the garrison in New Orleans was made aware of the fact. Besides, the first thing de Carondelet would ask his new immigrants was how they came by such an amount of money. That, plus a reluctance to play the scrub, would keep him here.

Lifting his head he saw the painting that dominated the wall, so large that the bottom was lost behind the bedhead. Even upside-down he could take pleasure in the beauty captured on canvas. Then he looked across the great feather bed. Hyacinthe was curled up, covers thrown off, with every bump on her arched spine visible, the crown of each vertebra glistening in the faint gleam of sunlight coming through the slatted shutters. He followed them down to the swell of her partly hidden buttocks. Using his foot to push the coverlet further down he exposed the whole of her slim body. One leg was straight, the other bent, showing the pale pink skin on the sole of her foot. As he rolled over towards her, and put his hand under her arm to cup her breast, he did wonder if there might be another good reason for eschewing haste.

‘I nearly had a mutiny on my hands,’ said James. ‘The fact that you weren’t aboard was bad enough, but it didn’t take our friends long to work out that your absence was in pursuit of pleasure, rather than their welfare. I’m afraid that notion had quite incensed them.’

‘Damn their mood. Have they made any decisions?’

‘Not yet.’

‘What about our own crew?’

‘Funnily enough, less fractious now than even yesterday. As I suspected it was the presence of that chest full of coin that really worked upon their prejudices. They still bait the Frenchmen, but it’s larded with humour, not bile.’

Pender called through the open cabin door. ‘There’s a boat putting off from the shore, your honour, with that droopy Captain from Fort Balize aboard.’

‘Alone?’

‘No, he’s got four of his soldiers with him, and that cock sparrow that was here yesterday, who’s aide to the Governor.’

Harry made his way on deck and watched as the boat pulled towards
Bucephalas
. Behind them he could see a detachment of de Carondelet’s Walloon Guards lining up on the wooden jetty. Fernandez wore his usual bovine expression, but a day in New Orleans had allowed him to renew not only his dress uniform, but his everyday wear. His moustaches has also been trimmed so that they drooped less than before. But even barbered and in new clothes, he still aspired to smartness rather than achieving it. Being the senior officer, he came aboard first, but was then left to stand uselessly on the deck until de Chigny, who could communicate with Harry, came to join him.

‘I have instructions for you from the Governor. You are to warp your ship into the quayside right ahead.’

‘Why?’ demanded Harry.

‘So that the
Navarro
can retire to her berth and the other galleys go about their duties. Captain San Lucar de Barrameda does not wish to keep his crews on alert indefinitely. A guard will be placed at both ends of the cables, two men fore and aft. There will also be a guard on the quay under the command of Captain Fernandez so that no one may approach the bollards, or ropes, that hold your ship secure.’

‘Anything else!’ said Harry, looking at the fortress that would stand right above the berthed ship. Again, the smoke from the furnace drifted lazily into the warm, morning air.

‘Yes,’ de Chigny replied. ‘The Governor has requested that you, along with your brother, come ashore, and bring with you the keys to your armoury, which will be secured with an extra padlock before we leave, this to be witnessed by either Captain Fernandez or me.’

‘And if I fail to do so?’

‘Then we will be obliged to place a substantial guard on them also. And in that case, I must tell you that the Governor would
not be content to allow your crew to stay on the ship. A camp ashore would have to be constructed to contain them.’

‘And feed them,’ said Harry.

De Chigny nodded. ‘He is sure that they will be happier consuming the food they are accustomed to than making do with anything we could provide.’

‘All this sounds like an act of war.’

‘It is an act of wisdom. The Barón de Carondelet has decided to put both you and your men under protective custody. And to remove from you the temptation to act unwisely.’

‘For how long?’

‘That he didn’t tell me.’

Harry was terribly tempted to mention the Plate fleet. But that would give away the fact that he knew more than he should.

‘Does he have any instructions regarding my French passengers?’

‘I believe he has told you that they are free to go ashore, Captain, and to travel anywhere in the Territory.’

‘They may decline to oblige.’

‘Then that is your concern, not that of the Governor.’

The murmuring behind mystified him until he realised that James was translating the exchange for the benefit of at least one or two of the crew. Judging by the unnatural stillness of those on deck the news of their fate was travelling fast. But their situation hadn’t changed. To attempt anything without the aid of surprise bordered on madness. And even then it could prove suicidal. But, in time, as their guards grew lax, something could be attempted. And he had one idea, a long shot, which might just make escape possible. But now the whole garrison was on alert. Any resistance and de Carondelet would remove them from the ship. He needed the crew aboard, that was certain, so anything that threatened that had to be avoided.

‘Pender, get a cable over the side and man a boat to haul it ashore.’

He looked keenly at de Chigny to see if he understood, but the lieutenant’s face was blank. Likewise Fernandez.

‘Tell the men not to worry, when you get the chance. We need time, that’s all.’

‘Aye, aye, Capt’n.’

The deck suddenly came alive as Pender shouted out his instructions. If any of Harry’s men were wont to disobey, Pender’s willingness to comply should assuage their fears.

‘James, take Captain Fernandez below, fetch the key to the armoury from my cabin, show him it is locked, let him put on his own padlock, and then fetch both keys back on deck.’

He turned back to face de Chigny.

‘I require your permission to address my French passengers. You must understand that coming ashore here will require a degree of courage, even from men who have already shifted their domicile more than once. I want to speak to them alone, so that I may reassure them that I am still responsible for their welfare, and that should they need assistance they can count on my help.’

‘I’m not sure that I am permitted to oblige,’ said the Spaniard.

Harry looked at him hard. ‘This is a demand, Lieutenant de Chigny, which if it remains unmet will ensure that I refuse to cooperate at all. If you choose to stand beside me while I speak they will not believe a word I say. You may, if you wish, explain to the Barón de Carondelet yourself why he has the task of housing and feeding my crew.’

The Spaniard still hesitated.

‘Pender, belay!’ Harry yelled.

Every member of his crew froze, with a discipline that cheered him even in such a dire situation. De Chigny looked at them for a moment. Then with as much grace as he could muster, conceded.

‘Carry on, Captain Ludlow.’

‘If you stay on the ship, you will do yourselves no good. You may even suffer if war does break out.’

‘Will we be better off ashore?’ asked Lampin.

‘I can’t say.’

‘Why did you tell them the chest was yours in the first place?’ demanded Brissot.

‘If we tell him he’ll give it back,’ another voice cried.

‘You may do that if you wish. But I doubt it’s a good idea to tell de Carondelet that the treasure chest is yours, not ours.’

‘You think he will steal it from us also?’

‘He will most certainly want to know how you came by it. He looks at me and sees a successful privateer, a man who can show him letters of marque signed by my sovereign. What does he see when he looks at you, a group of itinerant Frenchmen?’

Harry hesitated, not wishing to add the word uneducated. But that was true. Even with the likes of Lampin and Couvruer, who were definitely a cut above their fellows, none of the group who stood before him were gentlemen, at least not in the sense that a Spaniard would understand. Thinking like that made him uncomfortable, since being a sailor he was well aware of the loose nature of such an appellation, that it had more to do with birth than any innate disposition. Given their money, some of these men would naturally elevate themselves. Others could have ten times the amount and stay uncouth wretches for the rest of their lives. But at this moment they looked like what they were, a group of tradesmen and artisans who’d only come out to the Caribbean because they’d failed to make a living at home.

‘I cannot think of an explanation that will satisfy him. If he finds out, or even suspects, that your wealth stems from what can only be called piracy, then I can’t see him ever relinquishing it.’

‘What are we to live on?’ asked Lampin.

‘I have money to give you. Not a sum that will match what is missing, I grant you, but there is at present very little specie in Louisiana, so it will command a high value.’

For a moment, Harry toyed with the idea of telling them everything. About McGillivray and the destination of the gold and silver, of Saraille’s conviction that the man who stole de Carondelet’s
ingots was Spanish. Even of his half-thought-out plan to make an escape. But most of all the fact that, once war was declared, any connection to an English privateer would be fatal. That all he was doing was buying time. Yet experience told him that they were not a group who acted rationally, but a set of competitors who with more information would only end up more divided. And there was the thought that nothing he imparted would remain secure. Once ashore, someone could talk, if only from the fond belief that by helping the Spanish they’d get their money back. Added to that was his own natural inclination to keep things to himself. One or two of them growled uneasily.

‘If I could force him to return it I would. But my hands are tied. And I have to look to the needs of my ship and crew.’

‘And if we refuse?’ asked Couvruer.

‘It would make me very unhappy to insist.’

Harry felt uneasy the moment they were shown into the Governor’s quarters. His bulging blue eyes held a look of barely controlled anger. He took the keys of the armoury from de Chigny with a grunt and threw them onto the desk. As they clattered off the other side onto the floor he picked up a printed broadsheet and waved it at the brothers.

‘How did the editor of the
Moniteur
get information that the
Gauchos
was sailing to New York?’

‘New York?’ said Harry, feigning surprise. ‘Was Captain Rodrigo bound there?’

‘Are you telling me that you don’t know?’

‘I am. His charts, which I handed to Captain San Lucar de Barrameda with the ship’s manifest, showed him on course for the Florida Keys. I had assumed his destination to be Spain.’

De Carondelet seemed unaware of the contradiction which existed between his words and his manner. His opening remarks had sounded like a confirmation that the information was true. And now he seemed to be attempting, by sheer bluster, to withdraw from it. Harry was left with the thought that the Governor
considered himself clever and others fools, which was a dangerous premiss. ‘If this information did not come from you, where did it come from, Captain? You were seen in Saraille’s company last night, so don’t deny it.’

‘I wasn’t aware that you were having us watched,’ said Harry.

‘I was not. But I was told.’

He began to dart about the room in his agitation, his heels digging hard into the bare wooden floorboards.

‘Saraille?’ said James, raising a finger to Harry. ‘Was not that the fat fellow with the pink face who bought us a drink?’

‘I think you’re right, brother.’

‘An unsavoury creature,’ James continued, clearly enjoying himself, ‘with such an unbecoming opinion of the administration. I would not wish to repeat publicly the things he said about you, Barón. It does not surprise me in the least that he follows such a low occupation.’

‘Low is the word,’ snapped de Carondelet. ‘His newspaper is nothing but an organ for misinformation.’

‘Then he has succeeded admirably, sir, in being the purveyor of this evident falsehood. I am sure the merest hint of a refutation will lay him even lower.’