"You are going to walk?" Ethan asked indignantly, as if the notion had never occurred to him.
"Walk, Doctor," Judah affirmed. "Surely you know how to walk. Just put one foot in front of the other, one foot in front of the other."
Ethan was not amused. "Let us hope your contact has been watching for us." He slapped at his arm where an insect had just bitten him. "I do not relish staying over-long on this damned mosquito-infested island. Likely as not, we will all die of yellow fever."
Judah had to laugh at his friend, who had always had the habit of looking on the shadowy side of every situation. "It is fortunate for us, Ethan, that you are a doctor, should any of us be stricken by that malady."
"Do you not think we will look a bit conspicuous, Captain?" Cornelius asked, glancing down at his short-legged trousers and striped shirt. He removed his tasseled cap and tucked it beneath his arm and smoothed his hair.
"The two of you will not be accompanying me. One man will not draw as much attention as three," Judah said, pushing a wide branch aside and stepping onto an overgrown path that looked as if it was seldom used.
"I don't like your going alone," Cornelius said. "You might be walking into a trap. Keep your eye out for a Frenchman who might recognize you, Captain. Don't forget there is a price on your head."
Amusement danced in Judah's eyes. "And on yours as well. Be vigilant, Cornelius. I would not like to see your red hair hung on a traitor's pole."
Judah checked his pistols to make certain they were primed, then jammed them both back into the scarlet sash that was tied about his waist. "If I am not back by sundown, you can assume that your fears were not unfounded. In that event, you will rejoin the ship and set sail for America."
"We shan't leave without you, Judah," Ethan insisted. "If you are not here, we shall come looking for you."
Judah's expression hardened as he looked at his friend. "I will expect the two of you to sail for home and that's an order."
Both men watched their captain move away, knowing they would do as they were told. Even though Judah was their friend, he was not a man who would allow disobedience from his crew.
At first Judah walked along cautiously, but when he reached the main road that led to Scarborough, he joined a crowd of locals who were headed for market.
Dark-skinned women, dressed in large prints and bright colors, carried earthen jugs on their heads, while barefoot children chased each other in a game of tag. In the beginning, Judah seemed to be the object of curiosity, but by the time they reached the bustling seaport, no one took notice of him.
Judah glanced at the docks, where three British ships rode at anchor. One was a merchantman and the others flew the flag of the British navy.
Scarborough was a haven for opportunists. Pirates, freebooters, and even honest tradesmen prospered there. A more corrupt seaport Judah had never seen, and he was alert to every movement around him.
Judah turned on a man who deliberately bumped into him. "It will take more nimble fingers than yours to pick my pocket," he said, brandishing a pistol and holding it to the man's head. The pickpocket scampered away, soon to be lost in the mass of humanity that spilled into the streets.
After that, Judah kept his hand near his weapon and his eye on the crowd. He turned onto a street lined with taverns and brothels, and the filth and stench was overpowering.
A woman in a bright yellow dress and equally bright bandanna tied about her hair approached Judah, and from the way she swayed her hips, it was not difficult to guess her profession.
She drew even with him and stopped. "Ah, my handsome one," she said, moving her body in a way that made her breasts brush against Judah's chest. "Would you like to be entertained by Phylipi?"
He shook his head. "Some other time, perhaps. I have business matters to attend to at the moment."
She leaned closer and her lips brushed his ear. "You will find the man you seek within the Blue Dog Tavern," she whispered.
Judah's lips thinned and he looked at her carefully. "How will I know him?"
"He will know you." She looked at him regretfully. "What did you mean, Captain Gallant, when you said 'some other time'?"
He was not even surprised that she knew his name. His eyes swept her face and he smiled chivalrously. "I meant, some other time."
For over a month, Dominique had been residing in Scarborough, in a shabby room above the Blue Dog Tavern. She had been told that Captain Gallant would rendezvous with his contact there, but as the days passed without a sign of him, she began to despair that he would not appear.
She had nothing to do all day but wait in her room, so she had time to worry about the fate of her brother and grandfather. She spent many restless nights when sleep eluded her. When she finally did sleep, she was terrorized by nightmares in which she was stalked by the ruthless pirate, Judah Gallant.
Colonel Marceau's contacts always kept watch over her movements. Only once had she asked to leave her room to walk about the village. However, on that occasion, she had been accosted several times by unsavory characters. After that, she had not asked to go out again.
When the heavy knock landed on her door, Dominique was startled. Opening it a crack, she found one of the men who had been guarding her.
She did not like the man, and she did not pretend to. "What do you want?"
His words struck terror in her heart. "Captain Gallant has arrived, Mademoiselle. I shall escort you below, and then I will leave you to your task. Should you have need of me, I will be nearby. And later, if you wish to contact me, I can be found in the tavern every day."
Dominique had known this moment would come, and now that it had, her courage almost failed her. What would she do—what would she say to a pirate, a cutthroat? She thought of the suffering of her brother and grandfather and pushed her fear aside.
"Give me a moment to prepare," she said, closing the door and leaning against it to gather her strength. She took several big gulps of air and went to the valise under her bed. Gathering what she needed, she made herself ready to meet the infamous Captain Gallant.
When she stepped out of the room, the man nodded his approval at her appearance. She wore her hair loosely about her shoulders and she had abandoned her fashionable gown for a peasant blouse and a red skirt with layers of stiff white petticoats. Her feet were bare, and she hoped she looked like the women who walked the streets, flaunting their charms for any man who had the price to pay.
"I am ready," Dominique said.
Judah moved through the smoked-filled tavern, his eyes traveling carefully over each man's face, watching for a sign from anyone indicating that they were his contact.
Dominique clung to the shadows near the back door allowing herself a first full look at Captain Gallant. He stood as if at the helm of a ship, and even from across the room, she would know him as a man of the sea. She hugged the corner, hoping he would not notice her. But he gave the appearance that he was aware of everything and everyone around him.
This pirate was not at all what she had expected—no patch over his eye, no peg leg, no ugly scar on his face. He wore tight-fitting trousers and high-cuffed boots. A brace of pistols were tucked into his crimson sash.
At that moment, he turned his ice-blue eyes on Dominique, and she felt that he could discern her intentions by just looking at her. She dropped her head, trembling. How would she ever find the courage to approach this man?
When she glanced back to him, he was moving slowly past each table as if he were looking for someone. When a woman with a low-cut gown and blood-red lips sauntered up to him, he effortlessly sidestepped her, giving Dominique the impression that he was not looking for feminine company.
When Judah reached a table at the back of the room, a man raised a mug to him. "Set ye down and have a wee taste of ale with me, sir," he said, slurring his words.
Judah propped a booted foot on a chair, assessing the stranger. He wore rough linen clothing and a black patch over one eye. His white hair was long and tangl
ed, and he looked as if he hadn't bathed in weeks. "1 will be proud to take that drink, stranger, if you have the right words."
"Then set you down, so I may whisper to ye."
It seemed to Judah that the man no longer slurred his words. He dropped into a chair, thinking there was something familiar about him. "One need not whisper, old man, since no one could hear you in this din."
The stranger leaned forward, so only Judah could hear his words. "The tempest blows strong this storm season."
Judah relaxed and took the mug from the man's hand. This was his liaison. "So it would seem," he replied. "Pray tell me that you brought me the money I was promised to mollify my crew."
"Aye, that I have. If you ever decide to continue with your present occupation, you will be a wealthy man."
"Did the three captured ships arrive safely at Charleston?"
"Aye, that they did. Have ye anything to report?" the man asked.
"Not yet." Judah leaned back with a slight smile curving his lips. "But I haven't given up yet, Mr. York."
The older man chuckled. "How did you know it was me? I thought my disguise was so correct that even my dear wife would not recognize me."
"If you will recall, you once complimented me on my ear for accents. I still place you in Virginia." Judah took a sip of the ale and shoved it away in disgust. "Why put yourself in danger. There are others who could have come in your place."
A wide grin spread over William York's face. "I do not know when I have enjoyed a situation so much. I will have to tell our friend in Washington that I have a liking for the clandestine life."
Judah slammed his fist against the table. He had great respect for William York, and this was no place for a man like him. "Leave this wretched occupation to others. We are better served by your diplomatic skills. This is a dangerous business, fit only for men who do not have your gift."
William looked pleased. "Perhaps you are right. But it has been an invigorating experience." He glanced about him, then leaned closer to Judah. "Let us put that aside and talk of the reason I am here. I have foul news for you. There is a spy about who will be watching your every move."
The pupils of Judah's eyes widened and his jaw tightened.
"Tell me his name."
"Regretfully, I do not yet know. A dispatch was intercepted some time ago from a French colonel on Guadeloupe. The document states that he has a spy aboard the Tempest. You must be alert at all times. Do not forget for a moment that there is someone aboard your ship who is willing to betray you."
Anger coiled inside Judah. "The hell you say!" he exclaimed. "Then pity the poor wretch when I find him."
"Be careful, Judah. It could be anyone. It is amazing what a man will do for money, and there is an even larger reward on your head than when that message was intercepted."
"Have no concern. I will find the traitor and deal with him. Now," he asked, "have you new orders for me?"
"Yes, but all in due time, Captain Gallant. Let's get away from here. Since you have joined me, I feel that we are being watched."
Judah stood, looking about for anyone who might appear suspicious. He saw movement out of the side of his eye, and turned to catch a fleeting glimpse of a woman—a beautiful woman—dressed in a red skirt. But she quickly melted into the shadows and disappeared.
William nodded toward the stairs. "Let us find seclusion in my room so I can give you the monies that represent your crew's share of the plunder."
As Judah followed William, he paused halfway up the stairs, and caught a glimpse of the woman in the red skirt again. This time, she stared boldly back at him.
She was very unlike the other women who frequented the Blue Dog Tavern. She had a refinement about her, but her eyes were inviting all the same.
He caught up with William, who was already opening the door to his room. He had no time for dalliance—he had to find a French spy. And one thing was certain, when he discovered the man's identity, he would deal severely with him.
7
Puddles of water from a sudden rainstorm glistened on the cobbled streets. Although it was still two hours until sunset, dusk had fallen over the town, and the narrow passages Judah walked through were cast in shadows. His mind was on his conversation with William York, so he did not see the woman who ran toward him until her body slammed into his.
Judah could hardly make out her features in the gathering darkness, but he had the impression she was very young. He placed his hand on her shoulder to steady her and felt the tremor that shook her body.
"Please," she cried in English, "help me. Help me, kind sir!" She clutched his arm. "I am in grave danger. Some men are chasing me—evil men who mean to do me harm. Will you not help me?"
A burst of crimson seemed to linger on the horizon and Judah was impatient to rejoin Cornelius and Ethan before sunset. With resigned patience, he gave his attention to the girl, staring at her with a hawk like glare while she looked back at him with a stricken gaze.
His tone of voice reflected his irritation. "What did you expect, when you frequent these streets without escort?"
She ducked her head and answered him evasively. "You are an American. I have heard that men from your country are chivalrous to a woman in danger. Is that not so?"
Judah looked up and down the street but saw no one who appeared to be a threat to the woman's safety. "Go home to your mother and father where you belong, little English miss. Whoever was pursuing you has gone now."
"I have no mother or father," she said softly. "I have no one."
For the first time, he looked at her closely, and recognized her as the woman who had been watching him in the tavern.
Even though he suspected that she had sought him out, she appeared vulnerable, and he took pity on her. "Show me where you live and I will escort you there. But we must hurry."
"I live at the Blue Dog Tavern, but 1 can never go back there." The lies did not come easy to Dominique's lips, and she faltered over the next words. "The ... landlord forces me to . . . work for him." Her face reddened and she looked piteous. "I am not a bad girl, and I do not. . . like what me makes me do. Please, sir, take me away with you."
Judah's lip curled in contempt. "I have never met one of your kind who didn't claim that she was forced to ply her trade." He reached into his pocket and withdrew a gold coin and tossed it at her. "Go and trouble some other poor fool with your sad story. I do not believe you."
Dominique grasped his shirtfront and he could sense a desperation about her. "Take me with you. I promise I will be no trouble."
He pried her fingers loose and gently shoved her away. "Where I am going, no woman can go. Trust my word when I tell you that you will be far safer where you are than with me."
"I will cook and scrub for you," she said desperately. "I will be anything you want me to be, only please do not leave me here. If you do, something terrible will happen."
There was such terror in her voice that Judah was momentarily inclined to believe her. Then he looked at the artificial blush on her cheeks and the painted mouth and frowned. "An ingenious approach, Madame," he said with contempt. "I am sure you will find a man to accommodate you before the night passes."
Without a backward glance, he stepped around her and moved away, while she watched helplessly. She had failed! What would she do? Then Dominique gathered her courage and walked silently after him, taking care to stay far enough back so he would not see her.
Once Judah glanced behind him, and she held her breath, fearing he had discovered her presence, but he turned away and with long strides left the village behind.
When Judah reached the shore, Dominique stayed at a distance while he conversed with two men and then all three boarded a longboat and rowed toward the huge ship swaying at anchor.
Then with a determined gleam in her eyes, she walked into the water until she caught the tide. Being island-born, she was a strong swimmer, but her heavy skirt and petticoats hindered her, draining her strength.
The s
un had set and it was a dark night without moon or stars. Dominique kept her eyes on the small pinnacle of light emitted by the ship. Breathless, with her arms and legs feeling like iron weights, she was sure she could go no further—but she had to.
She felt overwhelming relief when she bumped into the hull of the ship. But the real danger lay ahead of her. She had to get on board without being discovered—how she did not know.
Dominique counted herself fortunate that the sea was calm, so she could cling to the side of the ship until all was quiet. If only it weren't so dark, then she could find a way to climb on board. As if in answer to a prayer, she felt a rope dangling from the side of the railing and grasped it in her hand. She did not know what danger awaited her on that ship, but nothing could be worse than what her family would suffer if she did not succeed with Judah Gallant.
Slowly, Dominique began to pull herself upward, hand over hand until she reached the railing. She waited a moment to get her bearings, then climbed aboard. A lone lantern swayed with the rocking motion of the ship and she kept well out of its light as she surveyed the deck. She saw no one, but suddenly she heard voices, so she slipped behind several barrels to hide until two men passed.
Her hands were raw and bleeding from the rope, her clothing was ruined, and she was dripping wet, but she had overcome her first obstacle and was on board the Tempest. She must not be discovered until the ship was far from land and the captain could not put her ashore.
Of course, since meeting Judah Gallant she was quite certain that he was capable of anything. He was the kind of man who would not hesitate to toss her overboard just because she was a woman.
After a while, Dominique inched along the railing until she came upon several longboats. Taking great care, she climbed inside one of them and pulled the canvas cover back in place.
Dominique shivered from cold and from fear. Everything rested upon her success with Captain Gallant, but already he had rejected her, even though she had presented herself as the kind of woman she thought he would like. How could Colonel Marceau have thought that the pirate would find her appealing?
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