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The Captain's Lady Page 20
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Ten days later he discovered he was wrong. Much later he decided he was not unhappy about it.
At the first sign of the British frigate, its sides painted Nelson style in black and yellow, Alexis issued orders that set the deception in motion. Afterward she hurried to her quarters and discarded her trousers and shirt, replacing them with the black silk uniform. Having secured her hair in place under the bandanna she tied the red sash about her waist and hung her sword from her side. As she walked out of her cabin she caught sight of herself in the mirror and paused for a moment, pulling on her gloves. So this is what they saw, she thought. Then she realized it was not precisely what any of her victims saw at all. Without the mask pulled over her face there was no denying she was a woman. The midnight outfit was suddenly very striking. The trousers were not tight enough to reveal her curves and yet they clung to her legs, showing a smooth, muscular power. Her shirt was loose enough to conceal her breasts with the aid of a binder, but there was something about the open neckline that seemed to scream farce. She changed her stance and her reflection obliged. The woman was gone for a moment, replaced by a swaggering, arrogant figure. She laughed at the change, marveling that one movement could so easily fool the eye. She looked at her face and the woman returned. She pursed her lips, attempting a grimace, but it was a young woman in false pain who returned her gaze. The mask was everything. She quickly pulled it on. Now the mysterious Captain Danty stared back with fierceness in his amber eyes. His smile, however, was well concealed.
Alexis strode on deck and watched the activity with satisfaction. It was hardly necessary to say anything for the men were all drilled in what was about to happen. A distress signal had already been sent and the Union Jack was whipping high above the ship on the signal gaff.
“Is it Captain Travers?” Alexis asked Jordan.
“Randall seems to think so. She is still too far away to be sure. He can’t make her name yet.”
As if Randall had heard his captain’s sigh of disappointment he called down from the mizzen cap. “It’s the HMS Follansbee, Captain Danty! And she’s seen us! She’s coming this way!”
The low rumble of approval at the approach of Travers’s vessel would have erupted into pandemonium if Alexis had not quickly issued orders that returned things to normal and quenched some of the excitement. The crew returned to their stations and attacked their work with a new vengeance. As the ship continued to approach, Diamond Maria remained almost motionless in the water. Her sails were caught but ready to be unfurled at a moment’s notice if Travers should see their ruse. Men were dropping empty crates over the side to give the impression their heavy load was in part responsible for their floundering. The hurried, frantic movement of the crew was only for illusion. Diamond Maria was a sound vessel.
“Mr. Jordan, give the order to stand by stations and ready the guns. It won’t be much longer.” Alexis watched Travers’s ship with the intensity a spider views a nearing fly.
“Thought you might like to take a look, Captain,” Randall said, handing her the scope. He had abandoned his position in the cap to carry on his duties at the guns. It was part of the procedure. All hands were needed now.
“Thank you,” Alexis said. She glanced through the instrument and felt a chill pass through her as she made out the familiar form of Travers at the helm. She handed the scope back to Randall, neither of them realizing this transaction signified the only error Captain Danty had made. If Randall had still been in the cap he would have seen another ship approaching in the distance. The name would have meant nothing to him. But the Stars and Stripes on the gaff above the Concord would have given him sufficient warning.
“You make her yet?” Cloud shouted to Frank Springer in the cap.
“It’s a Quinton ship all right!” he called back. “I can tell by her lines. She’s been painted differently and she’s in some sort of trouble!”
Cloud cast a wary glance at Landis. “What do you think? Could it be her?” His voice was calm, hiding the anxiousness knotting his insides. He turned his attention back to the ship.
Landis was slower to answer, but finally he said, “If it’s her then she’s up to something and if it’s not, the ship needs assistance. Shall I straighten course and move in?”
As Cloud was nodding another voice caught his attention. He looked up to see Frank shimmying down the mast. In a few moments he was standing in front of Cloud.
“Another ship, Captain,” he said breathlessly. “Flying a Union Jack too. A frigate, heavily armed. They are going in to help the Quinton vessel.”
“Travers?” Cloud’s tone almost belied the fact it was a question.
“Most likely, Captain.” Before he was told to do so Frank swiftly reassumed his station above the ship.
“Damn!” Cloud muttered. He heard Landis echo his sentiments and he smiled wryly. He was glad Frank had the foresight not to yell the information down to him. It was hard on all of them, knowing they had to take Alexis, but knowing they were about to deny her her moment of triumph—or death, he thought suddenly—was more than he was willing to burden them with. For now only three of them would shoulder the responsibility of knowing.
“Hard to port!” Cloud’s order seemed more like a curse to his ears. As the ship maneuvered, the command was given to ready the guns. Soon Concord was as busy as Diamond Maria, but the activity was no illusion.
“What’s that you say?” Captain Travers asked Ian Smith.
“Another ship. American. Forty-four guns. Have they declared war?”
“I haven’t been given word,” he answered. He looked at Diamond Maria again. She was in difficulty but he knew he could not hope to protect her and her crew if the Americans decided to engage him. The British merchant would be useful as a decoy though. She could provide the necessary time the Follansbee required to get away.
He issued his orders to Smith and the frigate began to change its course drastically. Travers was not prepared to start a war if one had not been declared. He wisely remembered the Chesapeake-Leopard affair. As his direction changed he never realized he had had a hand in it a long time ago.
Alexis clutched the taffrail. Her fingers whitened from the grip. She thought she could break it if she could have maintained her hold. She released the rail and in the same motion one hand whipped to her face and tore at her mask. She looked at Jordan and saw he was at a loss to explain what was happening.
“What is he doing?” she cried, expecting no answer but wanting to hear a voice give their situation some reality. She gave the order to start a pursuit, Travers’s sudden actions still a mystery. By the time the men moved to their stations and the sails were ready she saw the problem. “Randall!” she commanded. “Get to the cap and make that ship!” Pulling her mask back in place, she and Jordan went to the other side of the quarterdeck to get a closer look. The Concord was bearing down fast.
“It’s American!” Randall cried. “Navy! And she must be making twelve knots!”
Alexis paled at Randall’s words. “What do you think they’re doing?” she asked Jordan.
“Maybe they were coming to help us,” he replied. The shudder that ran through his body told him otherwise.
There was a jolt as the wind caught the sails and Diamond Maria began its course toward the Follansbee.
“They’re armed and they look like they’re ready to use everything they’ve got!” It was Randall again.
“Are they changing course?” Surely, she thought, the Americans would see that her ship required no assistance and they would put about or move toward Travers. If war had started then he was the enemy, not her cargo ship.
“No, Captain! They’re still coming for us and they couldn’t have missed the Follansbee!”
The American’s actions made no sense to Alexis but it did explain Travers’s sudden aversion to coming to their aid. She put the American frigate aside and focused all her energies on pursuing the Follansbee.
“She wasn’t in trouble at all!” Smith told h
is captain. “She’s pursuing us!”
Travers’s normally composed, chiseled features twisted in a brief moment of surprise as the Diamond Maria glided through the water toward them. He grasped his telescope firmly and examined the ship more closely. She had more guns than necessary for an ordinary merchant, even in these waters. And the distress. It was a ruse.
“Danty!” The name was like a curse violently pronounced.
Smith stared at Travers. “Danty.” He merely mouthed the word.
“It has to be!” Travers said tersely, ignoring his officer’s confusion. He thought then the Diamond Maria was a decoy of the Americans. It crossed his mind to stand and fight, but another look at the Diamond Maria and her heavy arms changed his mind. He could fight one or the other, not both. He did not know he was the target of only one of the vessels.
“She’s giving us a good run, sir,” Harry said. The men were now aware Alexis’s ship was pursuing what had to be Travers’s frigate.
“She certainly is,” Landis whistled softly, ignoring Cloud’s scowl. “Considering she was practically sitting there when Travers made his move.”
“The Follansbee is pulling away, Mr. Landis, and we’re gaining on Alex.” Cloud took another look at Alexis’s ship and caught sight of her arsenal. Now it was he who whistled. “Take a look, Mr. Landis. You too, Harry. You might as well see what we’re up against if she decides to turn and fight.”
Landis was not a praying man but he sent up a distress signal of his own. From Harry’s face he got the impression he was not alone.
Cloud chuckled softly to himself. “We’ll know soon enough if anyone heard you. But it’s Captain Danty who is going to give us the answer.”
He looked out again at the ship. They would be on her soon. The question no one would dare ask aloud was: would she fight?
“We can’t outrun them, Captain,” said Jordan.
Alexis had already known that but hearing it from him was like a period at the end of her thoughts. Final. Travers was slipping away and the Americans were gaining rapidly. “Why doesn’t Follansbee engage the Concord?” she asked. “Do you think Travers knows what we’re doing?”
“Had to,” Jordan answered. “And if I were Travers I’d be thinking we are part of a scheme that includes the Americans. He knows he can’t fight both of us.”
“Then why aren’t the Americans giving him chase?”
“Because they probably think we are in it with him and we’re a damn sight easier to get.”
Alexis shook her head. “You make it sound plausible but I want to be sure. Order the guns pulled in and see what the Americans do. Drop our flag and put up the Quinton banner. Let’s give them every reason to believe we are only hauling cargo and see what they do.”
The order was given while Diamond Maria maintained a steady course toward the Follansbee.
“It won’t work, Alex,” Cloud whispered as he watched her maneuver. He ordered another hard to port to catch the wind and the Concord moved within firing range.
“Damn!” Alexis swore for the fifth time when she saw the Concord was not giving up. “We have lost Travers and I don’t know why, Mr. Jordan.” The despair was gone, only bewilderment remaining. She grimaced as if she were in physical pain as the Follansbee moved far beyond their firing range. Had Travers realized it was Alex Danty who was chasing him? She fought the urge to laugh. Even if he knew he would never suspect the Americans had saved him from certain death. It was almost comical. But not quite.
Alexis sighed and tugged at her mask. “I’m going below to change. You’re the captain now, Mr. Jordan. Let’s see what these Americans want. Since they have probably already seen our guns make sure you convince them they’re a necessity because of Lafitte. Have some of the men secure our contraband. I don’t want a search or they will never believe us. And for all our sakes, remember you’re supposed to be British this time. No drawl!”
Jordan smiled but it was an unconvincing effort. There was a sadness in his grin as well as in his sharp blue eyes. His limp smile faded as he shouted the new orders. He was now addressed as captain and as he watched Alexis move toward the hatch he noticed there was something unfamiliar about her gait. A tremor interrupted her normally smooth stride and he wondered if his wife’s seasickness was going to be an act this time.
He ordered the men to heave to. While the Concord moved to broadside he prepared himself for his new role.
“They’re not going to fight!” It was Harry who loudly spread the news.
Cloud sighed patiently at Harry’s exuberance. “That’s because she doesn’t know it’s us. Keep busy and try to hide your faces until it’s too late for her to change her mind.”
The men did as they were told when the Concord drew beside Diamond Maria and used grappling hooks to pull the two vessels closer.
Cloud stood on the monkey rail with Landis, holding onto the main chains. “The Concord requests permission of your captain to board and search your vessel,” he called. His eyes combed the deck for some sign of Alexis but he could not find her.
A tall man with sun-streaked hair stepped forward and called to him.
“I am the captain. Permission to board is granted but you will have to state your reasons for a search.”
Cloud gripped the hilt of his sword as he jumped. He was followed by Landis, Mike, and three others. He did not allow his confusion to show as he approached the man who called himself captain. Watching the man’s reaction, he spoke, “I am Captain Tanner Cloud of the USS Concord.” Nothing. The man’s face might as well have been made of stone. His name meant nothing. Had Alexis really kept his name from her men? He decided to change his tactics in the event this was all a gross mistake. “You gave a distress signal, Captain. What is the problem?”
“There is no problem. We were simply trying to warn the Follansbee oí your presence.” He smiled smugly. “It worked. You came after us and the frigate is safe from your guns.”
“Your name?” Cloud asked brusquely.
“Jordan. Kurt Jordan.”
“And your guns, Captain Jordan? All these guns are not usual for a merchant, if that’s what you truly are.” His green eyes left Jordan’s face. He was not interested in the answer to his question. He already knew what Jordan would say. He continued to scan for some sign of Alexis and he saw his men doing the same.
“Surely you must be aware Lafitte is in this area, Captain Cloud. We are bound for New Orleans with a cargo of material goods. That pirate would love to get his hands on our hold.”
Cloud nodded. It was what he expected. They were not aware he knew Lafitte did not prey on Quinton ships. “You have a manifest and proof of your destination?”
“Of course,” Jordan answered easily. “But you have not given me sufficient reason to allow you to see it. We are not in the territorial waters of the United States. You have no reason for stopping us, especially when it was obvious we were not of any mind to fight you.” Jordan stared at Cloud, trying to guess the game. “Why did you not engage the frigate, Captain? You are wasting your time here.”
Cloud was about to answer when a voice drew his attention to the hatch. He turned to face the owner.
Alexis had carelessly thrown her clothes on the bed and quickly changed into a dress. She’d purposely chosen the one with the lowest neckline, determined to keep the officers’ minds on things other than the arsenal in the Diamond Maria’s hold. She had unpinned her hair and unwound the braid, brushing it until it surrounded her shoulders and back like a golden cape. As she readied herself she’d felt the shifting of her ship, signaling the Concord’s arrival alongside. She’d put on stockings and shoes knowing men from Concord were probably already aboard. She cleared her mind of Travers and concentrated on the best way to divert the Americans. When she thought she had decided on a way, she went topside. Jordan was facing her but he gave no outward sign that he noticed her presence. He allowed her to make the first move.
There was something familiar in the stance o
f the turned American crew and as she cried out her suspicions became a horrifying reality.
“Kurt!” she called out. “Is it Lafitte? I’ll die if it’s that pirate!”
Jordan was ready to move toward her and offer her comfort as any husband would, but as the American sailors turned to face Alexis, he saw the forced terror on her face fade, only to be replaced by a twisted look of real pain and frustration. He stopped in his tracks as Captain Cloud moved forward.
Every man aboard both ships watched Cloud’s slow approach to Alexis. Every man had a hand at his side, fingering his cutlass lightly, waiting for a word from either captain that would place the weapon firmly in his grip.
Cloud could not take his eyes away from the piercing golden stare he was walking into. He could read anger, frustration, confusion. The hatred was not in her eyes. It was in the tight line of her mouth, the firm set of her shoulders, and in the hands that alternately clenched and unfolded at her side. When he was a few feet in front of her he stopped. His eyes dropped away from hers and they swept her tense form. If she was aware of his scrutiny, she gave no indication that it bothered her. He glanced at the swell of her breasts and followed the golden wave of her hair down her arm to where her hand was once more curled in a tight fist. Only two years, he thought, and she was more of a woman than his memory had done justice to. But she was also Captain Alex Danty, the target of his assignment, and he erased the image of the heroine from his mind, replacing it with the cold business at hand.
Alexis’s only thought as she watched Cloud’s approach was how could she have wanted to tell this man she loved him. Beyond the sea green eyes, beneath the subtly arrogant features, underneath the tailored uniform that proclaimed his commitment to another, was a man she loathed. Even as he studied her, she wanted to strike out at him, scream her contempt at the top of her lungs. She held herself back. She had to be sure he knew what he had done before she would grace him with her disgust. She stepped forward.