The Captain's Lady Page 18
Alexis sat in the dining room of Frank and Sally Grendon on the evening before Dark Lady was to sail. She sipped her wine slowly, thinking how much she preferred the company of this quiet couple to that of the wealthy planters and landowners who had assailed her with invitations to celebrate the completion of her work on Tortola.
“They would have tried to talk me out of it,” she said, thinking aloud, unaware she had spoken until Frank tilted his head in her direction.
“You said something, Alexis?” he asked. He crossed his long legs at the ankles and eased his thin form into the leather-backed chair. A shadow crossed the deep cleft that slashed his chin perpendicularly and disappeared when he lifted his head and smiled.
At one time Frank had given serious consideration to buying into the business of his close friend and employer to assure its continuation if anything should happen to George. That had changed when Alexis came to the island. At first Frank assumed, as did everyone else, that George would see Alexis’s husband took responsibility for the line. Gradually it became apparent that Alexis herself was capable of overseeing the business. Frank bowed out, not disagreeably, certain that working for Alexis would be no less a privilege than working for George.
“I was thinking how much I wanted to be here with both of you instead of the others,” Alexis said. “They would have tried to stop me, even at this late date.”
“And you knew we wouldn’t.”
“I’d never have come if I thought you would, Mr. Grendon.”
“Good. Sally has a surprise for you. When you see it you will know just how seriously we are taking this venture.”
Sally leaped to her feet and left the room. She was the perfect physical foil to her husband. Where he was a series of triangles and parallel lines she was a succession of curves and graceful arcs. His eyes were scalene-shaped filled with silver while hers were circles of violet. His mouth was almost a straight line while hers, more often than not, was given to an expression that pulled her lips in a small O. It was this expression that greeted Alexis and Frank when she returned to the room with a large bundle of clothes in her arms. Alexis helped her clear a place for her bundle on the table.
“They are for you,” Sally announced with breathless pleasure. “The other women and I did a little more than make flags.”
“Oh, Mrs. Grendon! It’s wonderful!” Alexis ran her fingers down the stack of soft shirts and trousers. “How clever of you! I thought I was going to have to borrow clothes.”
“Look on the bottom, Alexis. It’s something special.”
Alexis picked up most of the pile and put it to one side. She knew what Sally was referring to. The black material had caught her attention immediately. Her fingers lingered over the dark silk before she held up the shirt in front of her and looked to both of them for approval. The billowing sleeves were clipped at the wrists with gold cufflinks she recognized as George’s.
“Thank you,” she said quietly.
“Look beneath the trousers,” Sally fairly squealed. “There’s also something of Francine’s.”
Alexis lifted the trousers and found a crimson satin sash below. She placed it around her waist over her dress. “Mrs. Grendon, Lafitte will be absolutely envious of my attire. He prides himself on being the best-dressed brigand on the seas.” She caressed the sash longingly.
Sally laughed, a small tinkling sound. “It was not our intention to see you well dressed—only well hidden. There is a mask also and a bandanna to keep the British from seeing your face and hair.”
“You’ve thought of everything,” Alexis sighed, removing the sash and sitting down. “How did you choose the color? Why black?”
“The captain of the Dark Lady in pink? Hardly,” she scoffed. “There are boots for you too. Frank saw to them. You can get them when you go to the ship this evening.”
“Why? Why is everyone so eager to help me?”
“Many reasons, Alexis,” Frank answered. “Some because George and Francine were dear friends. Some because Quinton Shipping is the livelihood of so many here and Travers nearly ruined it for us. The men you chose think you can do it. It is not just because of Travers that they are willing to follow you. Part of it is their protest against impressment and an incident that should not have been allowed to take place.”
“Just so none of them feel sorry for me.”
“Feel sorry for you?” Frank rubbed the cleft of his chin with a thin finger. “What man in his right mind would risk his life because he felt sorry for someone else? I believe you weeded those fools out. Some of those men have been your friends since you came to Tortola. They might want to protect you—that could be part of the reason they agreed to help. They are—we all are—saddened by what happened to George and Francine, but none of them would use feeling sorry for you as a replacement for loyalty.”
“You’re right, Mr. Grendon. They are good men. That’s why I am going to have them back working for Quinton Shipping in no time at all.”
Most of them did return, although not because Alexis found Travers. His whereabouts eluded them time and time again and the Royal Navy suffered with each vessel Alexis destroyed. The seamen and officers were always given the opportunity to swim for land before the vessel was set afire. In nearly every instance the captain had to be bodily removed from the ship in order to save his life.
It was on the very first inspection of a captured frigate crew, when Alexis was looking for some of the men who had been with Travers, that she made the decision to allow the men pressed into service to board her ship if they wished it.
For the trapped seamen it was not a hard decision to make. They came to the Dark Lady willingly and without trepidation in spite of the fact its captain never uttered a word or revealed his face to them. They already admired the distress ruse which had enabled the slender man, dressed entirely in black, to trap their vessel and render it defenseless without firing a shot. The men, some English, most Americans, were eager to leave behind their forced servitude and take their chances with the man identified to them only as Captain Alex Danty.
Once on board the Dark Lady, after Danty’s crew had sunk their prison, their eyes riveted on their dark avenger. Danty himself remained mysteriously silent while their questions were answered by the second-in-command, Scott Hansom.
“All it is necessary for you to know,” Hansom said imperiously as he scanned the confused faces of the eight men who had been offered their liberty, “is that Captain Danty is interested in only one man and seeing this man brought to the end he deserves. We are not interested in waging war with the entire Royal Navy. We told you the truth before you agreed to come aboard. You may leave at the nearest port or you may stay with us and help us find the man.”
There was a murmuring among the thin, shirtless men. Their unhealthy leanness was evidence of the poor food and sanitary conditions aboard their ship. Their backs, in most cases, showed some sign of their unwillingness to obey their jailers in all ways. After a few moments of silence one of them spoke out.
“Who are you searching for?”
Hansom looked to Alexis for a sign. She shook her head slowly. He fixed his sharp gray eyes and authoritative countenance on the man who asked the question. “You will have to agree one way or the other before you are told. Any of you choosing to be left in port will learn nothing.”
“You’re asking a lot,” replied a man with a crisp British accent. “It’s treason, you know.”
Hansom clenched his large brown hands at his sides. He was kept from advancing on the men by another slow sideways movement of his captain’s head. He held his position, saying his next words loudly to be heard over the outraged protests the other men made to their mate. “To save you any more questions I will explain a few things to you.” He glanced over at Alexis, calmly sitting on the edge of a water barrel, her golden hair neatly hidden beneath a black bandanna and her face covered with black silk. She motioned to him and as he walked toward her he felt the gaze of the eight men pressed ag
ainst his back. He leaned close to her mouth so he could hear her low whispers. He nodded several times and when he returned to stand over the men on the deck he was smiling.
“The captain wishes me to explain the reason for the disguise. He was disfigured badly by the man he seeks and by revealing himself completely he would be endangering himself. He also has no wish to see you try to hide the shock of seeing his face.”
The eyes that had been resting on Hansom focused quickly on the captain and Alexis’s second-in-command could barely suppress his amusement at the tale he had spun. Every man in front of him was assuming the scars were on Alexis’s face. Those who chose to leave would spread the story while those who remained would be sure to keep the secret.
“We will be nearing Port Elizabeth on Bequia soon. You have until then to make up your mind.” He turned to leave but he was addressed by the same man who thought his liberty was gained at too high a price.
“Why doesn’t the captain speak for himself?” he asked loudly, his eyes throwing a challenge to the small form on the water barrel.
There was total silence from all on board. Alexis’s crew watched her carefully. They wanted to come forward and shut the man up. They did not understand how he could continue to press his good fortune after being offered so much by Alexis. She did not understand either. She did not expect gratitude but neither did she expect insolence. With a wave of a gloved hand she motioned Hansom to stand aside and at the same time she glanced at her crew, letting them know she would handle the problem.
She slid off the barrel and approached the sitting men slowly. More than one of them thought she moved like a dark predator. Some looked at the golden eyes behind the mask, fascinated; such unusual eyes held their lives in limbo. Alexis walked around the group, keeping her gaze fixed on the man who spoke. He had no marks on his back. It was not a confirmation, but it warranted closer questioning. She walked to Hansom and addressed him softly.
Hansom stared at the man with contempt. “The captain wants to know if you were actually impressed or whether you just maneuvered yourself into this to avoid a swim?”
Caught, the man answered foolishly, resting his eyes glaringly on Alexis. “If the captain wants to know he’ll have to speak for himself. Why don’t you talk, Captain Danty? Or did the man you want take your tongue?”
Alexis stopped Hansom’s move toward the man and, stepping in front of him, approached the group of men once more. Those around the man moved aside to let the captain pass. Alexis’s gaze only left the man’s once and that was to focus on some of the ruins of the sunken British vessel. She thought if she threw him over now he had a good chance of relying on one of the drifting pieces and paddling for land. It was better than he deserved, but he had a chance this way and she would not deny any man his chance.
She reached down with her gloved hands and pulled the astonished sailor to his feet by the band of his trousers. Hansom was not alone in his surprise at Alexis’s strength. The rest of her crew was similarly amazed. They knew her to be accomplished with pistols and swords but did not expect her to have the strength she was exhibiting now. The freed sailors had not thought it of the slender captain either. But no one was more surprised than Alexis. Her anger was so great that this man felt like a sack of flour in her grasp. He was pushed until he felt his back against the rail and only at the last second, when he saw the fury in those eyes did he know what Alex Danty intended to do to him. Alexis raised her knee and placed it firmly in his groin. As he doubled forward she grabbed his legs and flipped him over the side. When he surfaced safely she called to him, her voice deep and husky from exertion, “Captain Danty does not speak to scum!”
Hansom and the rest of them laughed loudly, and Alexis smiled beneath her black silk. When the laughter died she whispered instructions in Hansom’s ear and went below.
Hansom turned back to the mildly amused, slightly frightened men. “Port Elizabeth. Your decision then. None of you will be shown the same treatment as your friend.” There were murmurs of “no friend of mine” but Hansom ignored them.
Out of the eight men they had taken aboard, five remained with them. All of those refusing harbor sanctuary were Americans. The two who left voluntarily spread the story of the horribly disfigured and vengeful Captain Danty, sealing Alexis’s identity beneath half-truths.
Alexis’s men looked forward to the unveiling, as they called it, with the eagerness of small boys waiting for their caterpillar to become a butterfly.
“There are five who want to stay, Captain,” Hansom told her after they were safely away from Bequia. “When are you going to show your face on deck again?”
“I do believe you and the others are enjoying this greatly,” she grinned as she pulled off her mask and let her hair fall around her shoulders.
Hansom chuckled. “When you lifted that man over the side it was all we could do to keep our jaws in place. We want to see the faces of the others when they realize it was a woman who did it.”
Alexis ran her fingers through her hair, untangling the ends, and deftly arranged it in one braid behind her back. “Very well. You can pass it along that I will make my appearance shortly,” she sighed. “You have earned your fun. I hope you won’t be disappointed.”
“Hardly,” Hansom said, stepping out of her cabin. While Alexis changed from the black uniform to a pair of tan breeches and a cream-colored shirt, word was passed quickly and discreetly that Captain Danty was soon to come topside.
Alexis did not disappoint her crew. She stumbled through the hatch and onto the deck, searching out Hansom immediately. She ran to him, her arms flung out and her eyes wide in terror. Neither Hansom nor the rest of the crew could believe what they saw. The Americans were surprised to see a woman aboard and outraged when they heard her scream at Hansom.
“Keep him away from me, Mr. Hansom! He’s horrible! A brute! I won’t stay with him another moment!”
The Americans were confused and angered when Hansom only laughed at Danty’s mistress. Not only was he amused at her distress, he clutched at his sides with the force of his laughter.
Alexis was not stopped but she found it difficult to maintain her terror. She ran to another of her men and beseeched him with the same plea. His reaction was identical to Hansom’s. Alexis looked around at her crew. All work had ceased and there were secret smiles giving way to unrestrained laughter. The Americans were the only ones not smiling. She decided it was time to end the charade, though she enjoyed seeing the astonished faces of her men. Now they would get to see the astonishment on the faces of the Americans.
She returned to Hansom and smacked him soundly on the back. “All of you! Back to work! Mr. Hansom! Since when has anything I said ever been so funny?” She glared at him while he tried to choke back more laughter. The men had returned to work, but she knew they were all surreptitiously watching the five Americans for reactions.
As Alexis walked toward the men she did not realize the first dawning of truth was coming over them. With their eyes they followed her movements and they shared the same thought: the predator was gone but it was inherent in those long, lean legs approaching them in purposeful strides. They looked to one another as if to confirm their nagging suspicions that the whole world was turned on its head.
Alexis saw their looks and she smiled at each of them in turn. Hansom was directly behind her, still trying to maintain some composure. She poked him in the ribs with her elbow, never taking her eyes or her smile from the men in front of her.
“I usually run a pretty tight ship, gentlemen,” she said. “You will have to excuse our meager attempt to have some fun at your expense. I am happy you decided to stay with us.”
She held out her hand, but the men could not find one among them who would take the extended greeting. Alexis dropped her hand to her side, fully understanding their reluctance and confusion.
Hansom stepped forward brusquely. “Captain Danty has just given her welcome to you. I think you had better reciprocate.”
“You should do as Mr. Hansom suggests,” she said firmly. “Or I will have to throw you over the side as I did the other gentleman.”
Jaws snapped shut and hands were promptly extended. Alexis greeted them with the same grace she would have used in the drawing room of her home on Tortola. She assigned tasks to each new crew member but they all seemed reluctant to move. This she did not understand for she was used to having her orders obeyed.
She looked at them for an explanation and Ned Allison spoke up. “Captain Danty, I mean no disrespect but I feel as if I’m the victim of a joke. Are you really what Mr. Hansom told us?”
“I am. Everything you heard was true. The proof of the marks of the man I seek are not on my face. They are on my back. He murdered three people I loved. I intend to bring him to my justice.”
“And may we know who the man is now?” asked Ned.
“Of course,” she replied. “His name is Travers. Captain Gordon Travers of His Majesty’s Royal Navy.” There was a gasp of surprise from one of the men and Alexis turned to him. “You know of him, Mr. Jordan?”
“Yes,” he whispered. “I served with him for eight months, then I was transferred.” He started to turn, to show her Travers’s discipline on his back but she halted him.
“That will not be necessary. I am familiar with his handiwork and the work of his men. Mr. Hansom, find these men some shirts and get them a decent meal before they start work. Mr. Jordan, when you are through, report to me. I want to discuss what you may know of his present assignment.”
“Yes, Captain,” he answered quickly.
And that was how Jordan, Allison, Redland, Wilkes, and Ford joined the Dark Lady. At the next unveiling, this time on Ariel, these five were part of the laugher when Peters, Randall, and Davie Brandon stared at Alexis with slackened jaws and wide eyes.