The Diamond King

by Patricia Potter

  “I was released at a small village north of here,” she said. “A Portuguese trader brought me here. But how are you here?”

  “I had heard of the peace treaty,” he said. “Then you did not arrive and there were tales of pirates in the area. A British ship dropped off a planter and his wife who had been held captive along with you, and I learned that you had disappeared. I decided to go with them as they hunted this pirate. I thought you might need help, or someone to care for you.”

  She was astounded at the pronouncement. Even more surprised that his gaze did not linger on her arm and hand. She had started to believe it did not matter. Alex had not cared, nor had others in the crew, but then they were not like any other Scotsmen or Englishmen she’d known. Perhaps that was why she’d liked them.

  But this man seemed not to care, either.

  She suddenly realized neither did she any longer. She no longer tried so desperately to cover it. She’d allowed it to diminish her life far too long. She’d been made so ashamed of it that she’d seldom ventured out.

  Now she was seeing the world. Perhaps not in the way she’d imagined but she was fascinated with every moment of her adventure. She had come alive in so many ways.

  She looked at him more carefully. His expression was concerned. His face was not handsome but rather pleasant. The skin around his eyes crinkled, though she did not know whether it came from the sun or laughter. His lips were wide, and she imagined his smile would be quite nice.

  “Your home, your children?” She started, remembering that his family was the reason he’d consented to accept a bride he had not seen.

  “You are my betrothed,” he said. “I could not leave you to an uncertain fate. I didn’t know whether the woman they said was here could be you. My prayers were answered, as were those of your family.”

  “They could not know,” she said, startled at the idea that her parents would care at all.

  “I told them in a letter that you had not arrived.”

  She took a deep breath. She looked down and saw that her hands were twisting together in her lap. She tried to relax.

  “Why did they release you?”

  “They heard rumors of peace,” she said. “I told them they could expect no ransom, that my family would be relieved to have me gone.” She would not have spoken so plainly weeks ago. She probably would not even have admitted the truth.

  His eyes were intent on her. He turned to the lieutenant who had accompanied him. “Will you leave us alone?”

  The lieutenant nodded. He backed out, joining the marines who had been hovering in the corridor outside.

  David Murray closed the door. He lowered his voice. “Is it the truth? That no one hurt you?”

  “Aye,” she said.

  “You need not worry,” he added. “It would not be your fault. I would not hold it against you.”

  The words surprised her. Even dismayed her. She had been so sure that he would not want her once he saw her arm, let alone if she had been compromised. Even if she had not been in the company of what he considered pirates for nearly two months.

  He must have seen the doubt in her eyes. “I made an offer,” he said. “I intend to keep my word.”

  “You did not know about my arm when you made that offer,” she said.

  “I did.” He shrugged. “Your father wrote me about it.”

  She must have looked surprised.

  “He also said you were kind and gentle,” he said, further startling her because her father had never expressed that to her. “Those are qualities I want in the person caring for my children,” he continued.

  No words of love. But they would be a lie. Instead the words were a declaration from a man who seemed to like simplicity.

  And he was offering what she thought she wanted most, something that she thought would be impossible.

  He was offering her a family.

  What if he discovered she had posed as the privateer captain’s wife?

  What if he knew she had spent a shameless night with him?

  Why did David Murray chase over hundreds of sea miles to rescue her?

  All those thoughts tumbled through her head.

  “You can come with me now,” he said. “I’m sure arrangements can be made to comfortably accommodate the daughter of Robert Campbell.” He looked expectant.

  The daughter of Robert Campbell. The sound of her father’s name was like icy water thrown in her face. She wondered then how much the dowry was.

  Or was she using that sudden question as an excuse? In the past few weeks, she had fallen in love. She had fallen in love with a man, two children, and the sea.

  But that man had not fallen in love with her. He had made it clear that he saw no future with her.

  You can still have a family.

  At what price?

  David Murray appeared pleasant enough but she knew surface appearances meant little. Hadn’t she at first considered the Ami’s captain a villain of the first order?

  Still, David Murray was offering her a life, a family, a future. Safety. Security.

  Accept, her head said.

  Do not, argued her heart.

  Could she really sail away without ever seeing Meg again? Or her captain? Without knowing whether he escaped or not?

  “Is the ship sailing to Barbados?”

  “No,” he replied. “The captain is looking for the ship that captured yours. The authorities in Martinique heard one of the crew say they were going to Brazil. This is the third city we’ve visited. The captain will be making some queries before we leave.”

  She considered that. They would discover that a frigate had stopped here three weeks earlier, probably that someone had left the ship and gone into the interior. They might also discover that a man came ashore with her yesterday. Shivers ran up and down her back. When lies begin, they were like seeds that grew and grew. “Then I … would like to stay here,” she said. “The sea … the rocking … I get ill. I was so relieved to finally reach solid ground.”

  Concern immediately crossed his face. She wondered whether she had misjudged him seconds earlier when she thought about the dowry.

  “Then I will stay here, too, while the ship is here,” he said. “We must get to know each other better, and I can protect you.”

  The shivers grew stronger. She did not want him here. She wanted to know what was happening to Alex. How could Mickey get back to her? And what would they learn?

  If she agreed to go with him, if they left immediately for Barbados, perhaps they would forget about the Ami?

  She doubted the British authorities would abandon their search for a pirate just because she wanted to go home.

  “That is not necessary,” she said. “I have been looked after very well here.”

  He gave her a searching look. “Be assured, my lady, I do not think less of you because of your misadventures.” He paused. “I have been looking forward to our marriage. I have been lonely, and my children need a mother.”

  “How old are your children?”

  “A girl just a year old. Her mother died giving birth. Then there’s Simon, who is four, and David, who is five.”

  “Who is caring for them now?”

  “A housekeeper. She is a widow.”

  She absorbed all that information, then put a hand to her face. “I am grateful for your concern,” she said. “I never thought you would want me after what has happened.”

  He took her right hand and brought it up to his lips. “I am grateful you survived and are unhurt. But still I will see those pirates hanged. Every last one of them.” His voice hardened. Then he seemed to remember something. “Your maid. She was with you?”

  Dear God. What explanation now? She bit her lip. “They did not release her.”

  His lips tightened. “The blackguards. Well, Lady Jeanette, we will find her for you. And I think the lieutenant will want to talk to you. You may have heard something about this pirate’s plans.”

  She blinked rapidly. “
But I did not, sir. I was locked in a cabin the entire time. I knew nothing until I was taken to the Portuguese trader.”

  “Did they rob you?”

  She hesitated. She did not want to convict Alex and his crew any more than they already were, yet it would seem very strange indeed if the pirates had not taken her valuables.

  “My coins and some poor jewelry,” she said. “Someone advised me to sew most of my jewelry in the hem of my dresses, and I did that. They did not know all I had.”

  He looked at her with admiration. She shrank inside herself. She did not want admiration for duplicity. She didn’t think she wanted his admiration at all. She did not want to like him.

  Why couldn’t he have been unpleasant and bullying and accusing? Why did he have to be so understanding? So trusting?

  You made a promise.

  Circumstances have changed.

  She was no longer a virgin. She would be cheating him. Lying to him.

  Her mind and heart continued to argue within her. She wondered whether the battle was obvious to David.

  He will find out that not only did you help the pirates, you slept with one. Then what would a marriage be like?

  Three children. A home. A family.

  “Lady Jeanette?”

  She looked back up at him. His brows were drawn together in consternation.

  Jenna put her hand to her head. “I am sorry. It is too much. The last months … oh, do you understand? I cannot talk about it now.”

  He nodded. “I know you will need time. I just want you to know I will do everything I can to make you safe. I will ask the lieutenant if the questions can wait.” He bowed. “Will you have supper with me?”

  She had no reason to refuse. At the moment, she would have promised the world if he left.

  She stood. “Aye. Thank you for all your kindness.”

  “You are welcome.” He paused.” “It was not entirely explained to me how … pretty you are.”

  She? The woman that no one wanted?

  The very thought renewed suspicions that it may not entirely be her charms but her dowry and his need for a mother for his children that prompted his understanding. And yet, for the first time in her life, she had choices. But did she? She felt like a fly entrapped in a web and not one but several spiders were after her, one of which was her own conscience.

  “I will try to fend off the lieutenant until tomorrow,” David said, “and I will return at six.”

  “Thank you,” she replied gratefully.

  “I will move to the inn this afternoon. If you need anything …” His voice faded away, but he searched her face for a moment before quietly opening the door and leaving.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Alex knew when the sun rose. He knew it by the heat. But when he tried to move, he could not. His face was drenched in sweat, but his body was shaking with chills.

  He couldn’t remember ever being this sick, even after Culloden when he was wounded so severely. He’d been weak from loss of blood, from infection, but this … Whatever it was blurred the world and racked his entire body with tremors.

  He heard the priest mutter something he did not understand.

  He tried to sit but could not. He was shaking too badly. He curled up into a ball, trying to find warmth in his own body.

  A blanket covered him, then another.

  “Malaria,” he heard the priest say in Spanish.

  Alex heard the word. It seemed hollow, far away, but it penetrated somewhere deep inside. Men died of malaria. He had heard of it, but had never known anyone who had it. He fought the chills, tried to move and rise to his feet. He had to get somewhere. He had to keep moving.…

  “Must … leave …” His teeth were chattering so hard, he could not make out his own words.

  He heard the priest say something to the guide, but then he was seized by more shaking, and he could no longer concentrate on what the priest was saying, or even what he himself intended to say.

  Mickey slunk among the shadows, trying to make himself invisible. The bloody British were all over Vitória and particularly at the inn. The fellow in the fine clothes, in truth, had not left and a detachment of marines had made it their headquarters as they searched Vitória.

  They were knocking on every door, asking questions. He had pulled a cap far down on his head to hide his red hair and had folded his body against a wall as if drunk. He had been passed once, but he did not know how much longer he could fool these bloody English. His hand rested on his dagger, but he was loath to use it. Not for any moral reasons, but because he realized a death would prompt an even greater search.

  He wondered what was happening with Miss Jenna. At least she had not been taken from the inn. She was shrewd enough to outsmart the bloody soldiers, but she was still only a woman. If they wanted to take her, they could.

  Mickey waited until nightfall, then, using the shadows for cover, he made his way back to the tavern. Burke was gone.

  No one else understood English or even his poor attempts at a few words of Spanish. Three people were there. Three faces looked at him with blank expressions. Then he heard English voices outside.

  One man gestured to him, and he followed the man to a door in the back, down a dirt road, and then into a forest. The man he’d followed was dark complected with black hair and a dark beard. His eyes were like pieces of coal.

  “Where’s Burke?” he asked.

  The man shrugged. “Follow me,” he said.

  Jenna looked over her poor bedraggled wardrobe. She had the simple day dress she had worn from the ship, the sailor’s clothes, and one afternoon dress. Her trunk with her trousseau was still on the Ami.

  She glanced down at her arm. The wine-colored birthmark was still there, but it was no longer the whole of her. She realized for the first time how she had allowed it to rule her life.

  She would never wear a glove again. Unless, of course, she was disguising herself.

  The thought startled her. Where had it come from? Why would she disguise herself unless she became a fugitive? Or choose to be one? Jenna looked longingly at the sailor’s clothes she’d worn the night before. How free she had felt.

  And now she was trapped.

  Or freed?

  How strange that after a lifetime of never having choices, she had too many now.

  She looked in the steel mirror over the table and tried to see herself objectively, to see what David Murray had seen.

  A stranger looked back at her. Not a mouse with her plain brown hair pulled back in a knot. Her face glowed with the sun. Her hair was touched by gold as it cascaded down her shoulders. Her mouth was still too wide, her nose too stubbed. But now she saw life in them rather than the pallor of one confined and without hope.

  Was it love that had changed her face?

  She left the mirror—a foolish exercise in vanity. But still, to one who had never had reason to have vanity, it was seductive.

  She sat in front of the window and watched quarter boats and tenders go back and forth. Her gaze followed the details of marines spreading across the town. How long before they learned that the Ami had been there in the guise of the Isabelle? How long before they knew a Scotsman had gone ashore?

  How long before they turned to her for answers?

  How long before she knew the answer she could give them?

  She gazed at the sea and saw Alex’s face, his body braced against the wind and his strong arms steering a ship that weighed tons. He had done it with such ease and confidence, and even pure joy. She had felt that joy, standing next to him, feeling the same rhythm of the sea, the dance of the ship across the waves, the fresh breeze against her skin. She had felt wonderful, full of a kind of power she’d never known before.

  Was it all a myth, a fancy that could not last?

  A tear trickled down her cheek. Duty. Honor. Desire. Hope. Love. Need. All the important emotions.

  All of them conflicting.

  Where was Alex? Not the captain. Not the pirat
e. Alex. Alex with whom she had made love. Who had made her believe that she was so much more than a plain woman who deserved nothing but loneliness.

  What would happen if she went with David Murray? If she mothered his children and gave birth to others?

  Her head hurt. Pounded with decisions she did not know how to make. Alex did not care about her. But she had given him her heart. How could she give less to David Murray, or did he care whether she had a heart to give him?

  Did Alex even have a heart?

  She brushed that thought aside quickly. Or course he did. She had seen it in the way he looked at the children. How many had he brought out of Scotland at the risk of his own life?

  She was not included in that small charmed circle. She was a Campbell and no matter what she did, she would always be a Campbell to them.

  Yet he had desired her, even treated her with respect.

  She did not know how long she sat there, staring at the sea that had both imprisoned and liberated her. It would not be long before David Murray arrived to take her to supper. Perhaps she could learn more about him.

  She knew that the decision she had to make should not rest on the character of the man, but on the character of herself.

  Meg and Robin. She saw the children in her mind’s eye. How could she go without seeing them again, without finishing the book she’d been reading to Meg, without teaching her the joys and agonies of being a female, without showing Robin there was a softer side to life? What if they lost the one person who had protected them? What if they lost Alex?

  She’d vowed to remain with the children, to help them, to provide for their physical needs as well as those of their hearts and souls.

  She felt a keening noise coming from her throat. She tried to stifle it, but she knew she was not entirely successful.

  Think! Do not let emotions rule everything else. What is most important to you? It is your life. No one else’s.

  And suddenly she knew.

  Mickey met Burke in the mule shed in back of Burke’s lodging. “I cannot get to her,” he said. “The British are everywhere, asking questions.”