Beautiful Tempest
Page 72
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“Pathetic,” James said. “But that’s our cue that they know we’re here. Shall we?”
The longboats had already been lowered and were mostly filled. Malory’s brother was in one. Jeremy wasn’t. He’d been left behind at Nathan Brooks’s house to guard his sister and had complained loudly about it as he and Jack were rowed ashore there. The Andersons were rowed to their own ships, and Damon had been invited—it wasn’t really a request—back to The Maiden George to sail with James. Damon might have smirked over Jeremy’s complaints, considering how aggravating Jeremy had been in his diligence to keep his sister chaste—after the fact. But Damon understood why James wouldn’t risk his firstborn son to a stray bullet, especially when their numbers were great enough that one more man wouldn’t turn the tide either way. Watching Jack being rowed away from him, Damon had sworn to himself it wouldn’t be the last time he saw her.
The longboats had barely reached the beach when a wave of men burst out of the trees. They were yelling, brandishing pistols, sabers; one even held an ancient pike—dozens of men were charging in their direction.
“One shot each to stem the tide!” James commanded.
Damon was wading ashore when he fired, but other shots came from twelve longboats, not all at once, but close enough that the front line fell as well as the second line, and the men still running forward started tripping over bodies. It had been a pointless charge, and Damon was afraid that Lacross had ordered it to buy himself time to escape. It wasn’t that small an island. It could take days to find him, maybe even weeks, if he managed to slip into the jungle. So Damon grabbed a saber from one of the downed men and fought his way through the remaining pirates to get to the buildings behind the trees.
“Wait up, Captain. You don’t get this pleasure.”
Damon turned to see that James was close behind him and not wielding any sort of weapon . . . well, other than his fists, which he was using liberally. But barely any pirates were left standing, so Damon cautioned, “This might not be all of Pierre’s men.”
“I do hope not.”
They entered the clearing beyond the trees cautiously. But there were only one long building with the door standing open and several smaller ones, which some of James’s men were heading toward to search now.
Damon glanced around the clearing. “He hasn’t gotten much built since he moved here.”
“Pirates don’t make good carpenters,” James replied, and sent his brother and a handful of men to check the back of the larger building.
Damon poked his head through the doorway for a glance inside before they entered. An upper floor hadn’t yet been built, and the ground floor was open space that hadn’t yet been divided into rooms, so there were no other doors behind which men might be waiting to ambush them. They walked to the kitchen area in the back, which hadn’t yet been enclosed. Lacross was sitting alone at the end of a long table that was filled with half-empty plates. He appeared oddly unconcerned by their arrival. Damon wondered if the pirate had really sent all of his men down to the beach to make one single effort without providing for any contingencies.
Pierre said calmly, “I see you’re not in chains, Hawke.” And then with an accusing glare at Damon: “Why is that?”
“You should have kept your vendetta between men,” Damon replied. “Involving women was an inexcusable mistake on your part. We already apprehended your daughter. Catherine succeeded in stealing more baubles for you, which will be used as evidence to convict her.”
Pierre merely shrugged. “It’s a shame about the jewels. I was looking forward to the money they would bring. Building a proper base is costly.”
Damon was disgusted by the man’s utter disregard for the daughter who’d tried so hard to please him that she was going to prison for it.
Anthony came in from the rear of the building and stopped behind the pirate to stick a pistol in his back. “Drop your weapons.”
“I’m not armed,” Pierre insisted, though he didn’t raise his hands to prove it. “There was no point.”
“You have one second to drop—”
Metal hit the floorboards under the table with two distinct thuds. Anthony yanked Pierre to his feet and pushed him away from the table. Damon quickly removed two more pistols from the pirate’s belt. No wonder he’d sat there so damn calmly.
James shook his head as he came forward. “Dying just so you can take me with you, Pierre? Was that your final escape plan?”
“I’m not going back to prison!”
Two of the Anderson brothers had come in, and Drew suggested, “Kill him and get it over with.”
“What the devil, Drew?” Boyd said. “I thought you agreed with your father-in-law that Lacross won’t pay enough for his crimes with a quick death.”
“Who said anything about quick?” Drew shot back.
Boyd snorted. “The man wants death rather than prison again. We didn’t come here to give him what he wants.”
“Point made, Yank,” James said, right before he delivered his first punch. “But he needs a few things broken to remember me by.”
That ended up being a jaw, some ribs, one arm, and a collarbone before Pierre lost consciousness. Damon winced a few times, not for the pirate, but because he’d escaped a similar beating and still wasn’t sure why. Malory’s children’s brief alliance with him must have carried more weight than he’d thought.
When they went outside, the third Anderson brother approached James. “There are nearly thirty more of Lacross’s people who tried to hide in the jungle—servants, doxies, and the men who weren’t willing to die for Lacross. They surrendered without a fight.”
Damon looked behind Warren and didn’t see anyone else. “Where are they?”
Warren turned around. “Give it a moment. There were a damned lot of bushes to navigate through.”
But the captured bunch started appearing through the trees, sailors pushing them forward, and Damon’s eyes suddenly flared. “Father?”
Chapter Forty-Seven
IT WAS NEARING DUSK by the time the three ships docked on the island of Anguilla. One was going to give Damon and his men passage to Jamaica after they were done here, since he would no longer have the use of the warden’s ship. He was surprised Malory had arranged that after his earlier parting remark: “All for nothing, eh?” Damon had tried to get Malory to go about his business, assuring him that Damon could see to Lacross’s delivery to the prison, but Malory had just ignored him. But he had to try again. If James ended up arrested for old charges against Captain Hawke, Jack would never forgive him.
The longboats had already been lowered and were mostly filled. Malory’s brother was in one. Jeremy wasn’t. He’d been left behind at Nathan Brooks’s house to guard his sister and had complained loudly about it as he and Jack were rowed ashore there. The Andersons were rowed to their own ships, and Damon had been invited—it wasn’t really a request—back to The Maiden George to sail with James. Damon might have smirked over Jeremy’s complaints, considering how aggravating Jeremy had been in his diligence to keep his sister chaste—after the fact. But Damon understood why James wouldn’t risk his firstborn son to a stray bullet, especially when their numbers were great enough that one more man wouldn’t turn the tide either way. Watching Jack being rowed away from him, Damon had sworn to himself it wouldn’t be the last time he saw her.
The longboats had barely reached the beach when a wave of men burst out of the trees. They were yelling, brandishing pistols, sabers; one even held an ancient pike—dozens of men were charging in their direction.
“One shot each to stem the tide!” James commanded.
Damon was wading ashore when he fired, but other shots came from twelve longboats, not all at once, but close enough that the front line fell as well as the second line, and the men still running forward started tripping over bodies. It had been a pointless charge, and Damon was afraid that Lacross had ordered it to buy himself time to escape. It wasn’t that small an island. It could take days to find him, maybe even weeks, if he managed to slip into the jungle. So Damon grabbed a saber from one of the downed men and fought his way through the remaining pirates to get to the buildings behind the trees.
“Wait up, Captain. You don’t get this pleasure.”
Damon turned to see that James was close behind him and not wielding any sort of weapon . . . well, other than his fists, which he was using liberally. But barely any pirates were left standing, so Damon cautioned, “This might not be all of Pierre’s men.”
“I do hope not.”
They entered the clearing beyond the trees cautiously. But there were only one long building with the door standing open and several smaller ones, which some of James’s men were heading toward to search now.
Damon glanced around the clearing. “He hasn’t gotten much built since he moved here.”
“Pirates don’t make good carpenters,” James replied, and sent his brother and a handful of men to check the back of the larger building.
Damon poked his head through the doorway for a glance inside before they entered. An upper floor hadn’t yet been built, and the ground floor was open space that hadn’t yet been divided into rooms, so there were no other doors behind which men might be waiting to ambush them. They walked to the kitchen area in the back, which hadn’t yet been enclosed. Lacross was sitting alone at the end of a long table that was filled with half-empty plates. He appeared oddly unconcerned by their arrival. Damon wondered if the pirate had really sent all of his men down to the beach to make one single effort without providing for any contingencies.
Pierre said calmly, “I see you’re not in chains, Hawke.” And then with an accusing glare at Damon: “Why is that?”
“You should have kept your vendetta between men,” Damon replied. “Involving women was an inexcusable mistake on your part. We already apprehended your daughter. Catherine succeeded in stealing more baubles for you, which will be used as evidence to convict her.”
Pierre merely shrugged. “It’s a shame about the jewels. I was looking forward to the money they would bring. Building a proper base is costly.”
Damon was disgusted by the man’s utter disregard for the daughter who’d tried so hard to please him that she was going to prison for it.
Anthony came in from the rear of the building and stopped behind the pirate to stick a pistol in his back. “Drop your weapons.”
“I’m not armed,” Pierre insisted, though he didn’t raise his hands to prove it. “There was no point.”
“You have one second to drop—”
Metal hit the floorboards under the table with two distinct thuds. Anthony yanked Pierre to his feet and pushed him away from the table. Damon quickly removed two more pistols from the pirate’s belt. No wonder he’d sat there so damn calmly.
James shook his head as he came forward. “Dying just so you can take me with you, Pierre? Was that your final escape plan?”
“I’m not going back to prison!”
Two of the Anderson brothers had come in, and Drew suggested, “Kill him and get it over with.”
“What the devil, Drew?” Boyd said. “I thought you agreed with your father-in-law that Lacross won’t pay enough for his crimes with a quick death.”
“Who said anything about quick?” Drew shot back.
Boyd snorted. “The man wants death rather than prison again. We didn’t come here to give him what he wants.”
“Point made, Yank,” James said, right before he delivered his first punch. “But he needs a few things broken to remember me by.”
That ended up being a jaw, some ribs, one arm, and a collarbone before Pierre lost consciousness. Damon winced a few times, not for the pirate, but because he’d escaped a similar beating and still wasn’t sure why. Malory’s children’s brief alliance with him must have carried more weight than he’d thought.
When they went outside, the third Anderson brother approached James. “There are nearly thirty more of Lacross’s people who tried to hide in the jungle—servants, doxies, and the men who weren’t willing to die for Lacross. They surrendered without a fight.”
Damon looked behind Warren and didn’t see anyone else. “Where are they?”
Warren turned around. “Give it a moment. There were a damned lot of bushes to navigate through.”
But the captured bunch started appearing through the trees, sailors pushing them forward, and Damon’s eyes suddenly flared. “Father?”
Chapter Forty-Seven
IT WAS NEARING DUSK by the time the three ships docked on the island of Anguilla. One was going to give Damon and his men passage to Jamaica after they were done here, since he would no longer have the use of the warden’s ship. He was surprised Malory had arranged that after his earlier parting remark: “All for nothing, eh?” Damon had tried to get Malory to go about his business, assuring him that Damon could see to Lacross’s delivery to the prison, but Malory had just ignored him. But he had to try again. If James ended up arrested for old charges against Captain Hawke, Jack would never forgive him.
