by Tracy Kay
The slave trade was in decline, especially with new government regulations and plantation owners beginning to trade among themselves. However, there were still plenty of slave traders and one less wouldn’t hurt anyone. She hated the business of slavery and wished with all her heart that it didn’t exist. Although she couldn’t make it disappear, she could put one of the ships out of business.
Madeline smiled. Her threats to Flint were not going to be threats after all. As soon as she returned to the Wayward Wind, she would begin writing letters, but first she needed to lose the two men who were following her.
She had noticed them the moment she left the restaurant. They had caps on and she couldn’t make out their features. They were too far away and she wanted to keep it that way. They were probably Flint’s men. Perhaps he thought he could eliminate her; if so, he would be disappointed. Over the years, she had learned how to lose people she thought were following her, not to mention all the times she had to sneak in and out of houses, hers and the friends’ she was helping. Madeline glanced behind her to determine her followers’ distance before ducking down an alley and running to the end of the narrow street.
The last building to her right had a trellis attached to it next to a balcony. Madeline surveyed the area, and making a quick decision, she gathered her skirts up between her legs and tucked the length in at the waist before climbing the trellis. Reaching the small balcony, she swung herself up to the railing and balanced there precariously for a moment before grasping the edge of the roof. Taking a deep breath, Madeline pulled herself up to the roof and squatted down, searching the street below her. Spotting the two men coming her way, Madeline began crawling across the roof, staying as low as she could so as not to be seen. She wished for the cover of darkness to hide her movements, but all she could do was hope no one saw her.
Madeline came to the next building and made the short jump across. The building didn’t have a trellis or a ladder for her to climb down. She would have to jump to the next building which had a drain pipe she might be able to use. Going to the edge, Madeline gauged the distance. Sending a short prayer to heaven, Madeline backed away from the edge and made a running leap. She landed hard on her hands and knees. Checking herself for damage, she let out a sigh of relief when there were no broken bones or cuts. She dusted the dirt off her hands and adjusted her skirts to make sure they were secure in her waist band. Madeline walked around the roof, searching for another way down besides the drain pipe, but found none. With determination, Madeline grasped the pipe and began making the descent. The pipe was sturdier than it seemed and she safely reached the ground. Scanning the area around her, she searched for the two men. Not finding them, she fixed her dress and made her way to the Wayward Wind.
“Where the hell is she goin’?” Pete asked as he watched Madeline turn down the darkened alley.
“She knows she is being followed,” André replied as he dragged Pete by the arm. “Come on, I don’t want to lose her.” André and Pete followed her down the alley, and as they came to the end, she was nowhere to be found.
“Where’d she go?” Pete looked up and down the street, absently scratching his head.
“I don’t know, Pete. You go left, I will go right. If you find her, shout, if not, meet me here in ten minutes.”
Ten minutes later, Pete ran into André. “I couldn’t find her,” he gasped, out of breath from running up and down streets and alleyways.
“Neither could I.” André bent at his waist, hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. “I have a feeling she has done this before.” He straightened up and ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “There is no point in us searching. Most likely, she will be back on the Wayward Wind before we get there appearing all innocent.”
“I don’t understand. Why would she have done this before?” Pete turned his head with confusion.
“I don’t know. But I do know one thing, Madeline knows how to be elusive and she is good at it.” André grimaced with annoyance. “And I am going to have to tell the Captain. I can’t let her be in danger and run around the streets. It is not safe.” Looking around him, he searched one last time. Finding no sign of Madeline, he headed for the ship with Pete trailing behind him.
Chameleon placed two glasses on the rough table and poured the rum. She swung a ladder-back chair around and straddled it. “So, tell me why Madeline is with you.” The cabin of her ship, the Merriment, was simple and contained all of Chameleon’s possessions, which were few. There was an oak desk neatly organized, a single bunk tucked away in the left corner of the room with a chest at its foot, a window seat with a black cat curled up on the soft cushion, a small beat-up dresser with a chipped pitcher resting on top, a small round table and a few scattered chairs. The only new item in the room was a beautiful blue and green Turkish rug. The room was simple, belying the complexity of its owner.
Damon filled Chameleon in on the events ending with, “I don’t believe our ruse worked. I think he followed me anyway.”
“Certainly, he did. Do you think he is stupid?” She frowned and gestured at him. “Your ship and the girl slipped off in the middle of the night. What did you expect him to do? You practically advertised yourself.” She curled her lip disgustedly at their flawed plan. “She should have left with Connie. She would have been safer going to Morgan’s Island. Farrington would have never followed him there, particularly if the Deliverance left after you and the rest of you came here, which is predictable since this is one of our regular routes.”
“He is supposed to think she is on Brandon’s ship. Cassie was to make a big to do about boarding Brandon’s ship, disguised as Madeline.” Damon defended their plan. He had thought it had been a good one, but now seeing it from Chameleon’s perspective, he realized he had been wrong.
“She wasted her time. He followed you, luv, the moment you left port.” She pointed her glass at him before taking a swallow of the strong liquid. “I seriously doubt he bothered with the other ships. Although, he most likely had them watched, possibly had one or more followed.”
“Why the hell did he have to follow me?” Damon snarled with aggravation.
“Because he is smart. And even if he hadn’t followed you, he still would have ended up here where Madeline happens to be. He knows the way we think.” She tapped the side of her head with her finger. “That is our problem. We need to change our way of thinking.”
“Easier said than done,” he said, tossing back his drink.
“Tell me about it.” Chameleon took a long drink before shifting the topic. “Tell me about you and Madeline?”
“What about us?” He said evasively, not ready to discuss their relationship or his feelings.
“You are lovers,” she stated sagely as she poured them another drink. “Do you love her or is it a voyage romance?”
“I care for her.” He swirled the liquid in the glass. “More than I want to.” Running a frustrated hand through his hair, Damon grumbled. “Ah hell, Cat will not be amused that I seduced his sister.”
“That all depends,” Chameleon said, sipping her rum to hide her smile.
“What do you mean?”
“On whether or not Cat wanted you to seduce her,” she said wisely. She knew Brandon never did anything without thinking it through first.
“He asked me to protect her not fuck her,” he growled fiercely.
“Well.” Chameleon was taken aback. “You really are worried over this. You don’t often use that kind of language.”
“I apologize, Chameleon.” He inclined his head at her, then sighed. “I don’t want to hurt her or Cat, and I don’t know what to do next.” Agonized he had betrayed his friend and hurt Madeline, he put both elbows on the table, put his head in his hands, dug his fingers into his hair, and groaned.
Chameleon smiled impishly at him. “You love her.” She tossed back her drink as she watched his reaction.
“What?” Damon raised his head from his hands and stared at her, astonished that she
had read his feelings so well.
“You love her, Damon,” she said again, placing her hand on his arm. “Or you wouldn’t be so distraught. I know I have never seen you this way.”
Damon shook his head in misery. “Even if I do, it is not going to change the situation. I disappointed Cat. I disappointed myself and I hurt Madeline.”
“You did not disappoint anyone and you haven’t hurt Madeline, yet.” She squeezed his arm before removing it to pour herself more rum. “Most likely she has convinced herself that this is a one-time affair, the same as you, and she expects to be hurt. I say marry the girl and let the rain fall as it may.” She gestured with her hand and sipped her drink.
“And have Cat kill me? I don’t think so.”
Chameleon grinned at him. “It is probably what he wants, Damon. You know how he works. Most likely he wants his sister married to someone he trusts and he knows you will be good to her,” she explained, knowing she was right. Brandon would not have given his sister to Damon if he didn’t want him to have her. “He trusts you and you are an obvious choice. Knowing Cat, he knew you would fall in love with her.”
“How could he know that?” Damon grouched, not wanting to believe that Brandon had set him up.
“He is Cat,” she said simply, gesturing with her glass and raising her eyebrows.
Damon chortled and shook his head, accepting that she was right. Brandon knew he couldn’t resist his sister. “You are right. It does explain a few things. He most likely had this planned for a while and was waiting for the right time to throw us together.” Damon pushed himself away from the small table and stood up. “Why don’t you join us for dinner? I would like you to get to know Madeline a little better.”
“I would love to.” Chameleon made her way to the door. “Let me tell Cisco that I am leaving and we can be on our way.”
“Madeline.” Damon entered the cabin with Chameleon close behind him. “Chammy is going to join us for dinner.”
“I see that,” Madeline answered, slowly closing the book she had been reading and uncurling herself from the chair. Her little excursion left her exhausted and she was not in the mood to entertain. Her encounter with Flint had bothered her more than she cared to admit and she felt irritable. Taking a breath and plastering a smile on her face, Madeline transformed herself into hostess. “I will have Pete set another place.”
“I took care of all that, Madeline.” Damon smiled at her, noting that she was tired. “Would you like a drink Chammy, Madeline?”
“No, thank you,” Madeline replied as Damon poured two glasses of brandy.”
“None for me, Damon,” Chameleon refused as Pete entered the room with a large tray of food and another place setting.
“Dinner, sir, will be ready in a moment,” Pete said formally and awkwardly, rattling the items on the tray and almost spilling one of the dishes.
“Thank you, Pete.” Damon watched Pete, wondering about his odd behavior. It wasn’t like him to be so clumsy.
“Chameleon, it is such a pleasure that you could join us for dinner,” Tylib greeted as he entered the room, taking the glass Damon handed to him. “You never told us where you have been the past few months.”
Taking the seat offered, she answered. “I have been making quick runs along the American coast and to the Islands. I met two interesting young captains, Victoria Kane and Amanda Leighton. Their fathers were partners in a small shipping company and when William Leighton died two months ago, Amanda inherited his interest in the partnership. The ladies sail their fathers’ ships. Victoria’s father had an accident three years ago that left him disabled, leaving Victoria to captain the ship. Apparently their fathers had confidence enough in their daughters to let them become involved in the business.” Chameleon watched Pete as he nervously served her the evening’s meal.
Damon viewed her suspiciously. “Are you thinking of adding them to our little enterprise, Cham?”
“I am worried about them.” Chameleon nodded as she took a bite of her chicken. “Ooh, this chicken is superb. Please let André know he has outdone himself again. If I could bribe or steal him off your ship, Damon, I would. I would be fat, but happy.” She took another bite and groaned in pleasure. After the laughter died down and everyone had their first bites of dinner, she returned to the conversation at hand. “Although Victoria and Amanda mean well, I don’t think they know what they are doing.”
“Don’t they have good crews?” Tylib puckered his brow with concern. A good crew meant that a ship ran smoothly with few accidents and little trouble, and at sea, that meant survival.
“Although she takes unnecessary risks, Victoria seems to have a decent crew; however, I am concerned about Amanda. She told me she signs on whoever is willing to work and worries about problems later.” Chameleon waved her fork in emphasis before scooping up some potato.
“I don’t like that,” Damon replied with a shake of his head. A smart captain was careful of who he hired. It could mean a bad voyage if he wasn’t.
“Neither do I, and I have tried to tell her she needs to establish a permanent crew, but she said she doesn’t have time for that.” Chameleon was worried for the woman. Men didn’t always take kindly to a female captain as she well knew from experience. It took time and effort to create a good working crew.
“She better take the time or she will be dead or worse,” Damon answered. “We should get Conrad involved and have him investigate their company. There may be more problems than inexperience and unreliable crews. I will speak to him next I see him, Cham, and ask him if he wants to deal with their situation, and if not, I will.” Damon was sure Chameleon mentioned the women because she hadn’t gotten through to them, and she wanted his assistance on the matter. However, Conrad had more experience with this sort of thing and it was best to have him handle it.
“That is a good idea, Damon. I am worried for them,” Chameleon stated, relieved that Damon was taking the burden off her shoulders.
As the conversation turned to business, Madeline listened with only half an ear, concerned about Flint. When the conversation turned to him, Madeline was startled out of her troubled thoughts and listened more closely.
“I wouldn’t ignore Flint, Damon. He poses a real threat to you,” Chameleon said as she poured more coffee into her cup, her voice filled with apprehension.
“I know that Cham, but I am more concerned with Farrington. I know he isn’t far behind us and he will show up. If not tomorrow than the next day, and unfortunately, the repairs are more extensive than I thought which forces me to stay here for an extra day.”
“So my leaving England was for nothing?” Madeline interjected, her anxiety over Flint converting to Farrington.
“No, honey, it bought us some time,” Damon reassured, giving her hand a squeeze.
“But he is out there and he is coming after me.” She glared at him with irritation at his placating attitude. She wanted to stomp her foot and yell. She wanted to do something, not run away.
“Yes, Madeline, he is. But Brandon and Cassie are not too far behind us and I am sure everything will be fine,” Damon comforted, patting her hand with his.
She snatched her hand away from his. “I should have stayed in England. I could have done something there,” Madeline snapped, frustrated that she couldn’t do anything.
“And what could you have done, baby?” He brushed her hair off her flushed face.
“Don’t patronize me, Damon,” Madeline said angrily, pushing his hand away from her. “For your information I happen to be a very influential woman in England. I could easily damage Farrington’s reputation with only a few words.”
Antagonized and mystified by Madeline’s anger, Damon sat back, crossed his arms and watched her closely. “Perhaps that is true, Madeline, but that will not keep him from killing you,” Damon pointed out patiently.
Before Madeline could say another word, Chameleon stood up and wisely interrupted, sensing they needed to be alone. “It is getting late and w
e are not going to solve this problem tonight.” She turned to Madeline. “Madeline, it was so good to meet you. Damon, Tylib, a pleasure as always. I will stop by some time tomorrow.”
Taking his cue from Chameleon, Tylib stood. “Chammy, I will escort you back to your ship.”
“That is not necessary, Tylib. I will be fine on my own,” Chameleon protested.
“But I insist, my friend. Besides, I want to hear more of your adventures.” Tylib beamed her a big smile.
Chameleon smiled back knowingly. Tylib, along with most of the men in her life, wanted to protect her. She thought it was endearing, even though she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself.
Chameleon and Tylib’s departure left the room in silence and the tension in the room began to thicken. Damon uncrossed his arms and took a deep breath before speaking. “Madeline, I didn’t mean to make light of you.”
“No, you are right,” Madeline replied awkwardly, biting the edge of her lip. It wasn’t his fault she was being threatened and she felt helpless to change it. She shouldn’t have taken her fear out on him. “Farrington is a real danger to me and I need to be careful. I don’t want to talk about him, Damon.” Madeline stood and moved over to him. “We have both had a long day.” Madeline wrapped her arms around his neck and slid into his lap.
Damon grinned as he nuzzled her neck, holding her close while he pinched the flame of the candle out. “I think we should retire, don’t you.”
“Hmm, that would be nice.” Madeline yawned loudly, putting a hand to her mouth. “I am awfully tired.”
“You minx.” Damon chuckled, picked her up and carried her to the bed.
“Make love to me, Damon,” she said as he placed her on the bed.