“Do I look like a man living in the lap of luxury, sir?” Jason smiled wryly as he swiped his unkempt hair back from his face. “I unloaded the cacao, sugar, and other items before the sea could ruin them. My booty is safely stored in caves along the coast.”
“Because?” O’Keefe’s imperious tone left no doubt he intended to ask the pertinent questions even if they caused Jason pain.
Jason shrugged. “I had lapses when I wasn’t sure where I was or what I had done. But I sensed I couldn’t sell such valuables without getting caught. So my stashes are intact.”
“Which explains why you look like…well, something the cat dragged in.” Maria sighed, yet she felt hopeful: anyone, even those crows in their black suits, would see that Jason couldn’t be blamed for the shipwrecks, and that he’d rescued the cargo rather than making any profit from it. “Did any crewmen die from those captains’ foolishness? Because they thought they could outwit Johnny Conn?” she queried.
“I haven’t found any bodies floating. Those sailors probably scrambled ashore and found their way back to Charleston.”
“We’ll soon find out.” Officer O’Keefe laid aside his binoculars. “Thank you for steering, Palladino. I’ll take the wheel now, while the three of you freshen up for our return to Charleston. Welcome aboard, Lord Darington. It’ll be my privilege to escort you to your shipping headquarters and witness to your true behavior.”
“As we near the harbor, let us not forget that our mission is to rescue Jude and restore order in your shipping offices, Lord Darington.” Rubio spoke quietly, in that mystical way he had. “When you encounter situations that seem…questionable, or different from the way you remember them, allow us to fill you in on what you missed while you were away.”
Maria sensed her brother referred to Jason’s mother and Yosef Polinsky, but it wasn’t her place to raise the lid of Pandora’s box of surprises. It was enough to be sitting at the table beside Jason, Lord Darington, who had bathed and shaved his scraggly beard. After she trimmed his hair, he’d dressed in one of Jude’s suits. He looked so good, had felt so good sharing her bed in the night, she didn’t care what else might happen. Order had been restored in her world, and her prayers had been answered.
“It still feels odd, to learn I’m now the earl, entrusted with Wildwood and my mother’s welfare,” he murmured. “While Father and I were not particularly close, I never thought he might die anytime soon.”
“I’m sorry, Jason.” Maria scooted her chair closer to his. “Do you have questions my brother might help you with? A tarot reading might provide insight you need about these events or why they’re happening.”
“Indeed, I was in touch with your spirit after you disappeared.” Rubio slipped a small organza bag from his pocket. Dressed in a deep green velvet jacket with a collarless silk shirt, he resembled an eccentric nobleman—until the ring in his nose glimmered. “You weren’t aware I sought you out at those times, but I was glad to find you alive. Responding in the best way you could.”
Jason shook his head, still puzzled over his weeks as a pirate. “And had you not found me, Rubio, who knows how long I might have languished in that shack. The captains who pursued me assumed I lived as a reckless adventurer, but it was a lost, lonely existence most days.” He patted Maria’s hand and flashed her a grateful smile. “I—I knew important details were missing, but I had no way of learning what they were. Can you tell me what I should know, before we dock in Charleston? Perhaps point up any hidden agendas or obstacles I might encounter?”
“Excellent question.” Rubio passed him the thick deck of cards. “As you mix the cards on the tabletop, concentrate on what you’ve asked me. When you’ve stacked them the way you want them, choose seven.”
Jason focused on the cards’ ornate design as he swirled them around. He stacked them and then tapped the edge of the deck on the table. When he’d placed seven cards facedown in a row, he glanced at Rubio. “Did I do that right? I’ve never had a tarot reading, so I could be—”
“There’s no wrong way, milord. Let’s see how the cards have answered you.” Rubio moved to the chair on Jason’s other side to turn the cards faceup. “I prefer to arrange them in a way that points us toward a positive direction and opportunity. The tarot doesn’t forecast doom and gloom, nor do the cards predict what will happen. They show us circumstances and possibilities so we can interpret them according to our unique situations.”
“Ah.” Jason studied the cards, tapping at the center one. “So this skeleton with his scythe—number thirteen—doesn’t foreshadow death and destruction? I don’t much like the looks of him, after all I’ve been through.”
Rubio placed that card at arm’s length in front of them. “The Death card is not about physical demise or the Grim Reaper crooking his bony finger at you,” he assured Jason. “But it speaks to an ending—a necessary part of a new beginning. You can’t start fresh if remnants of the old, decaying past are in your way, so this card signifies a clean sweep. Highly appropriate, now that you are the new Lord Darington, don’t you think?”
Jason’s smile seemed reserved. “Thirteen has never been my favorite number.”
“In ancient times it was reserved for priests and sages, those who possessed special wisdom. Superstition has colored our perception over the centuries.” He quickly rearranged the cards so that two were beneath the Death card, and three beneath those, with a single card centered at the bottom. “This is a Tree of Life spread, for it resembles an evergreen. It allows us to exercise our free will, rather than falling victim to circumstances we feel uneasy about.”
They sat in silence as Rubio concentrated on the cards. “What do you see here, brother?” Maria murmured. She was no stranger to interpreting the tarot, but she let her sibling guide the reading. “If Jason begins afresh now that his memory is restored, what can he expect?”
“I see those two ladies beneath the Death card and sense…” Jason fingered the card on the left. “They are both queens. And each seems to be looking at me, as though demanding my complete attention. My exclusive loyalty.”
“An astute observation!” Rubio chuckled. “Care to hazard a guess as to their identity? Court cards sometimes stand for specific people—or, in the case of queens, they concern emotional control rather than the more physical power represented by the kings.”
Jason’s glance made butterflies flutter in Maria’s stomach. “This woman seems more…open and giving than the one with the sword in her hand.”
“The Queen of Cups is about love and creativity, whereas the Queen of Swords is about reason and logic,” Rubio replied. “I sometimes refer to her as the Bitch of Swords because her tongue can cut as sharply as the weapon she holds like a scepter. Even if you don’t care to designate which queen is whom—”
“This is Maria. And this is Mother.” Jason cleared his throat, as though searching for words that wouldn’t get him into trouble. “While they will both seek to rule my world, each in her own way, if they come to cross purposes, we’ll all suffer. I knew this when I announced my betrothal to your sister, Palladino.”
Rubio nodded as though he kept a deep secret; something he foresaw but couldn’t yet share. “Circumstances have changed, milord. These ladies’ competition may result in revelations—perhaps revenge—that surpass even my vision.”
Maria raised her eyebrows. The last thing she wanted was anything that threatened her future with Jason. She silently resolved that Miss Crimson would fade into literary oblivion—if the columnist hadn’t already been dismissed for abandoning her post. “And what do you make of the man in the chariot?” she asked, mostly to steer this conversation away from herself. “He usually signifies victory, does he not?”
“Indeed.”
“But the cards on either side of him show a club in one hand and a sword in the other,” Jason ventured with a grin. “Does this mean I’ll need weapons to control those two queens?”
“You’ll feel that way at times!” Rubio laughed wit
h him, while Maria rolled her eyes. Why did men believe clubs and swords affected a woman’s way of thinking? Much less her behavior?
“Tradition says it’s the hand of God holding that Ace of Wands and the Ace of Swords, and aces signify new directions. New ideas,” her brother continued in a more serious tone. “But it’s up to us to accept those for the gift they are, and put them to best use.”
“I like that bottom card. Much more promising, with that couple dancing in the sunshine.” Jason kissed Maria’s hand. “Even when I didn’t know it was you I was missing, my love, I longed for the day when the sun would shine in my life again. When I felt my purpose again.”
“And The Sun is a fine forecast for anyone’s future,” Rubio agreed. “Any way you arrange these, milord, you chose cards that predict fortuitous results—even if those two queens will insist on their way. But when haven’t they?”
“Excellent point, Palladino. Thank you for bolstering my confidence as we approach Charleston.” Jason stood and shook the medium’s hand. “While I don’t believe Jude has caused much trouble in jail, who knows what Mother might’ve stirred up? It would be just like her to reorganize Father’s business, or to demand my brother’s release from the governor. Let’s hope we arrive before she’s done more damage than we can repair.”
29
“Jude! How on earth did you get here?” Lady Darington sputtered. “I’ve talked myself blue in the face for two days, informing these obstinate partners that you are not the pirate who pillaged three Darington ships!”
Jason stood in his father’s American office—or in the partners’ sanctum, anyway—and merely smiled. It was a telling moment: his own mother didn’t know which twin he was. It was precisely the point he’d hoped to make by entering alone, and a devilish inspiration told him to see what else transpired before he revealed his true identity. “Good morning, Mum. How lovely you look in that shade of scarlet.”
When his mother exhaled in exasperation, the red feather in her hat fluttered. “Have you heard nothing I’ve said? These men still believe you raided your own ships! Cannot get it through their thick skulls that you just crossed the Atlantic to find your brother! To cooperate with them!”
Jason glanced quickly around the room, which was much larger and more nicely appointed than his father’s dockside London headquarters. The four men in black looked better suited to the clergy or the classroom than to running a shipping enterprise. And who was the man beside Mother? His blue eyes widened as he sidestepped slightly. Jemma sat behind one of the massive desks, spinning in the chair, bored with this entire situation.
A telling moment, indeed.
“Cooperation is precisely what’s required in this…tricky predicament,” he replied. “The future of this Charleston office—of our entire shipping enterprise—rides on what transpires here.”
One of the men put a monocle to his eye and came forward, squinting. “How the deuce did you get out of jail? I instructed Sergeant MacTavish that you should remain incarcerated until we had absolute proof you were not Johnny Conn!”
Again Jason smiled, biting back a laugh. “I’m sorry, sir, it’s been years since we’ve met. Jason, Lord Darington, at your service.”
“And you bloody well ought to know that I’m Theodore Dreyfus, the director of your Charleston—” He adjusted his eyepiece and began to wheeze. “What did you just say? Who the hell are you?”
Jason smiled, for this scenario was unfolding just as Maria, Rubio, and O’Keefe had predicted. “Jason, Lord Darington, at your service,” he repeated. “And how long have you been with us, Mr. Dreyfus?”
The older man coughed. “That seems of no concern, when something smells fishy—” Dreyfus turned to the other partners, appealing for their assistance. “Did you hear what he said? And do you believe it? Explanations are definitely in order before anyone threatens the future of Darington Shipping—”
“Jason! Jason, it is you!” His sister bolted from the chair, her arms outstretched.
He closed his eyes and hiked her off the floor in a hug. Jemma squealed, as she’d always done, and the familiarity of this exchange gave him the confidence to proceed. His sister seemed so oblivious most of the time, yet she’d caught on first. As Jason bussed her temple, he glanced at his mother and the four men in their dark suits, letting his gaze linger on Dreyfus. Father had described the old coot perfectly: he’d been invited into the partnership more for financial backing than his managerial skills.
A door behind them closed quietly: the steely-haired man who’d stood beside his mother had made his exit. Another telling moment, was it? He would save that for later. Jason hugged his sister again. “It’s good to see you, sweetheart. I—”
“You are in deep trouble with Maria for leaving her at the altar!” she blurted. “And things have only gone downhill since then! Why, Father—”
“Jemma! Let’s remember where we are and what we’re doing!” Their mother watched them closely, her expression guarded. “You know how your brothers love to switch places, to fool you. We’ve more important matters than airing the family’s…dirty linens right now.”
Well, his mother’s tongue hadn’t lost its edge in his absence: the Bitch of Swords was charging forth in her effort to control every situation. And by the looks on the men’s faces, she’d worn out her welcome and they tolerated her only because she was Father’s widow. He released his sister and turned toward the front door. “Maria! O’Keefe!” he called out. “It’s time to come in!”
All eyes turned toward those he’d invited: his beautiful fiancée, the chief officer of the Fortune’s Opportunity, and another burly, uniformed man he hadn’t met. He reached out and Maria grasped his hand.
“Captain MacLeod caught up to us at the pier!” she said. “Captain, may I present Jason, Lord Darington—the man we’ve just retrieved from Ocracoke Island. Jason, this is Captain Moses MacLeod, who brought us to America.”
“This is the gentleman who justified my taking the ship without your permission, Captain,” O’Keefe clarified. “When you hear our entire story, you’ll agree we were right to follow Palladino’s guidance.”
The chief officer then addressed the dour quartet of partners. Was that a sparkle in his eye when he smiled at Jemma? “Johnny Conn, the pirate you’ve been pursuing, is only a figment of your imaginations! He existed mostly on that WANTED poster you circulated,” O’Keefe declared. “After thorough examination of the wreckage in the Outer Banks, I must report that it was pilot error—outright foolishness of our crewmen!—that lost us those three ships, rather than the shenanigans of a man posing as a pirate.”
Dreyfus and the others scowled at each other. “What sort of imbeciles and idiots do you take us for—”
“Oh, pish! You’re the same imbeciles and idiots who hauled Jude to jail without listening to me!” Lady Darington spouted. She still stared at Jason as though she didn’t believe what was happening, but she also followed his lead, knowing which side her bread was buttered on. “So! If you’re Jason, where’s Jude?”
“One must assume he’s still in jail, Mother.” Jason tucked Maria’s hand in the crook of his elbow. It felt good to hang on to the one solid rock of his existence, here among these men who’d jumped to such an erroneous conclusion. “I came here first, and I’ve made my point. If you, my own dear mother, didn’t know which twin stood before you a few moments ago, I rest my case: my brother is being held by mistake.”
His gaze encompassed the four partners and the captain, who vaguely resembled the charioteer on Palladino’s cards, driving him on to victory. “I suggest you dispatch a cargo steamer to recover every last crate of cacao, sugar, and coffee beans from the three wrecked ships—items I stashed in caves before the water ruined them. I see no reason for anyone to be detained, or tried before the magistrate. Is that how you see it, Captain MacLeod?”
The man in the white beard had followed this conversation closely. He took his curved pipe from his mouth, nodding. “I have mor
e than once entrusted my life to Officer O’Keefe,” he affirmed. “And after this report of the situation in the Outer Banks, we should be questioning those pilots involved in destroying three Darington ships, rather than detaining the new Lord Darington, owner of our enterprise, and his twin brother.”
“Thank you, Captain.” Jason gripped the man’s hand and shook it. “Your decisive actions have earned you a promotion and a raise in pay. And as your man, O’Keefe, has proven invaluable in this investigation—reporting firsthand and confirming my assertions about how those ships came to be destroyed—I am promoting him into partnership.” He gazed pointedly at the men in the dark suits. “I value the service of seasoned officers who’ve come up through the ranks of this company, and I trust their opinions. Any objections, gentlemen?”
Dreyfus and his three cronies seemed to shrink a size as they looked at each other. “I—we bow to your opinion and your judgment, Lord Darington,” the old goat finally said.
“Good. You’ll be seeing a lot more of me than you did of my father. He’d be greatly disappointed about your performance in this matter.” Jason stood tall and straight, facing them all down even as he felt like an impostor, a man assuming duties for which he wasn’t prepared. Yet it felt right, what he’d just done. And Maria’s bright smile was all the confirmation he needed. “Shall we fetch Jude from jail, then? He’s served his purpose there, I believe.”
“Exactly what I’ve been saying all along!” his mother clucked. She motioned for Jemma to walk beside her. “Thank you, son—Lord Darington, indeed—for stepping in to remedy this disgraceful, disgusting farce. We’ve not a moment more to waste!”
As they entered the small, smelly building that housed the jail, Jason’s confidence soared. It might be the place where they detained seamen who’d downed too many pints and the whores who serviced them, but here he would establish himself in the minds of his father’s partners, give them a foretaste of their future. What he’d seen of Dreyfus and the other magpies didn’t impress him. Gone were the days when these figureheads could make decisions from across the sea without closer supervision and increased accountability.
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