Dead Dukes Tell No Tales

by Catherine Stein

  Redbeard drew a dagger from the scabbard at his hip, moving toward Sabine’s left, away from his rapier-wielding minion, trying to flank her. Sabine continued to retreat, keeping most of her attention on the fencer. A short blade on her armored left side was by far the lesser threat, even with Redbeard as her opponent.

  Twigs snapped beneath her feet. Larger branches poked at her arms and legs. She darted behind a bit of shrubbery and the rapier stabbed ineffectually into the leaves. The fencer swore. The thick vegetation hampered him far more than it did Sabine.

  Redbeard made his move, circling around her left side in a wide path, then running for the gun. Sabine whirled to stop him, leaving her right side vulnerable to attack as she did so. The fencer lunged and the rapier bit into her upper arm, but she hardly registered the pain. Preventing Redbeard from reaching the gun was all that mattered.

  Before she could make her next move, a flying chunk of rock whizzed past her head, striking Redbeard on the shoulder. He stumbled.

  “I warned you not to touch her,” Cliff snarled. Blood dripped from his temple, mud soaked his clothing, and he held his left arm clutched tightly to his body, but he was alive and standing. Sabine didn’t even try to pick up the gun. She ran at it at full speed and kicked it toward Cliff. He scooped it up with his good hand and joined her, facing down their enemies together.

  “Where’s the box?” Sabine asked.

  “Gone. I lost it when I fell. Sorry. One of the thugs went with it. The other fell further than me, but he’s climbing.” Cliff clutched the pistol with both hands, grimacing when he moved his left arm. He aimed at Redbeard. “I think it’s time you all let us go.”

  Redbeard looked to his sword-wielding minion. “Get them!” he ordered. He whirled around and ran for the scorpion balloon.

  The fencer charged. Cliff pulled the trigger. The man stumbled, staggered, then fell, clutching his chest.

  “Go, go!” Sabine shouted. “Don’t let Redbeard get away! He’s got a ship up there.”

  Cliff ran alongside her, but his face had gone pale. “Shit. Sabine, I think I killed him.”

  “Good. He was going to kill us. Hurry! The tail is pulling out.”

  The scorpion’s legs began to fold up. The claws twisted and snapped, barring the way into the vehicle. Sabine darted forward, spinning and dodging, but had to pull back before the sharp metal clamped down on her.

  “Dammit!”

  “I’ve got this,” Cliff called. He had stopped several feet out of range of the claws, holding the gun and taking careful aim. He fired once, twice. A hissing noise rose from one of the claws and it ground to a halt. “Clifford J. Kinsley. Scrap metal and recycling. I can dismantle anything.”

  “I fucking love you.” Sabine grabbed his uninjured arm, and together they clambered over the frozen claw and into the landing vehicle just as it began to rise.

  Insect-like appendages aside, the scorpion balloon was a simple airship, with a basket of metal mesh perhaps six feet long on a side. It had no seats, no cargo. Nowhere to hide. Redbeard stood at the far side of the basket beside the vehicle’s small control panel. Between them, the burner hung down almost to the level of Sabine’s head, its flame popping and hissing as it heated the air of the balloon.

  Sabine leveled her sword at Redbeard. “Surrender.”

  His gaze flickered back and forth between her blade and Cliff’s gun. He knew he was outmaneuvered, but he remained as cool as ever. He glanced upwards. “Really, daughter, do you think my crew will treat you nicely if you harm me? We are rising to my ship right now. Perhaps if you turn over the real treasure to me, we can come to an arrangement.”

  Sabine remained silent for a long moment, assessing this man who had spent his entire life amassing wealth and power by any means. “I could give you five Hearts of Ra. It wouldn’t matter. You’ll never be satisfied. All you crave is more, more, more. You will never understand what a real treasure is.”

  She knew, though. She’d found hers in a clumsy American duke and his feisty daughter. She needed nothing more.

  Sabine thrust her sword back into its scabbard and unfastened the top of her bodice. “The Heart of Ra isn’t a device,” she said. “It’s an idea. Some scribbles on paper. And I think I’d rather see it destroyed than in the hands of anyone like you.”

  She ran at Redbeard, whirling around when he raised his dagger, taking the strike right where her armor was strongest. With a flick of her wrist, she tossed the paper into the flame of the burner.

  Redbeard screamed in rage, grabbing for the hilt of her sword. Sabine stomped on his foot, threw her elbow up into his chin, and hammered down on the arm that was drawing her sword. The cutlass spun to the floor and she dove for it. Redbeard leapt at her, dagger raised, but Sabine was faster. She rolled, sprang to her feet, and brought the curved blade down on his exposed neck.

  He collapsed, choking, gurgling.

  “That’s for everyone I loved.”

  Her enemy fell silent and still.

  50

  Cliff heaved the body overboard and let it tumble to the ground below. The bastard didn’t deserve anything more than that.

  “You okay?” he asked Sabine.

  She stood by the controls, touching nothing, pale and silent. The balloon rose steadily into the air.

  “They have thirty guns,” she said at last. “Pirates don’t give up when their leader dies. Someone will step forward and take charge. Lola and our crew will be in danger as long as that ship is in the air.”

  Cliff placed his hand against her back. His limbs still trembled a bit. He’d shot a man. And nearly toppled down a mountain. But he and Sabine were both alive. That was all that mattered.

  “What do we do?”

  “What all good pirates do. Board the ship.”

  “And then?”

  “Then we either disable it or take it over. Preferably the first. A high-altitude ship large enough to carry thirty guns must have a crew of a hundred. That’s half Redbeard’s organization on one ship. We’ll work by stealth. Stay low, out of sight when the bottom hatch opens to allow us in. Once inside, we look for a way to damage the ship. Then we open the hatch and fly out again.”

  “Why not just run and leave them behind?”

  “If they discover we’re commanding this craft, they’ll shoot us down. And this can’t fly fast enough to escape.”

  “Okay. Take the ship down, then. If they have cannon, they’ll have gunpowder. We can set it off.”

  All color drained from Sabine’s face and she trembled, but she nodded.

  Dammit. They couldn’t set off an explosion or start a fire inside a ship. He’d seen what had happened when Die Fledermaus went down. If Sabine froze or panicked, she might never make it out. And even if she did, the trauma would be overwhelming. He’d find another way.

  They sat on the floor of the tiny airship as the scorpion-shaped basket swayed in the wind. The constant rain plastered their hair to their skulls and soaked through their clothes. Cliff’s handkerchief was too wet to wipe the droplets from his glasses anymore. He tucked them into a pocket. If he got a headache from trying to focus, he’d live with it. Sabine simply smeared the droplets around with the hem of her skirt and pushed the water-streaked spectacles back on her face.

  “Sabine?”

  “Yes?”

  “What did you burn? I’m assuming you didn’t actually destroy the plans for the Heart of Ra.”

  “No. I burned your letter. I didn’t want to look at it ever again, because you are not leaving.”

  He squeezed her hand. “No. I’m not.”

  A shadow formed above them, too dark to be a cloud. Metal ground against metal. Sabine stood up and manned the controls to steer the landing craft into the ship.

  “Keep that gun ready,” she said. “The hangar shouldn’t need more than a few people to anchor the balloon, but we need to be prepared for anything.”

  Cliff’s fingers tightened around the grip of the revolver. His left arm t
hrobbed with pain. He’d wrenched it badly while grabbing branches to prevent himself from tumbling down the mountain, and both his wrist and elbow smarted.

  The ascent into the hangar seemed interminable. Sabine dropped down beside him, putting a finger to her lips. Outside the scorpion, men shouted directions as they moored the landing craft. Cliff counted three distinct voices.

  “Don’t shoot unless absolutely necessary,” Sabine whispered. “We want to bring them down silently if possible.”

  The hatch banged closed beneath them. “All clear, Captain,” a man called.

  Sabine charged. The man was down before he even knew what had happened. Cliff followed, revolver at the ready, but she needed no assistance. Within seconds she’d dispatched both the other pirates. Damn, but she was remarkable.

  She came to stand at Cliff’s side, breathing heavily. The only sign of distress was the slight tremble of her lower lip.

  “I don’t like killing,” she murmured. “No matter how well deserved.”

  “I know. It’ll be over soon.” He nodded toward the opposite end of the chamber, where a dozen of the bomb birds sat tied to the floor. “If we point those straight up, they’ll plow into the decks above and tear the ship apart.”

  She nodded, her jaw clenched.

  “I want you to open the hangar and launch the balloon,” he said.

  “What?”

  “I’m going to set those off. There’s going to be fire and smoke, and you shouldn’t be here for that. You leave in the balloon and as soon as it’s done I’ll lower myself out the hatch and you can pick me up. We can set up a rope for me right now.”

  Sabine grabbed his arm, her fingers clenching around his biceps. “Are you insane? I can’t leave you here! What if something goes wrong?”

  “I can do this. I promise. This ship is going to go down hard and fast. The balloon needs to be out and ready to flee immediately. I can’t do that part. But you can.”

  Tears welled in her eyes. “Damn you, Hartleigh.”

  “I love you, too.”

  She released him and took a step back, taking a deep breath. She extended her hand. “Partners.”

  He grasped her hand and shook. “Partners.” He leaned in and kissed her with all the love in his heart. “Tie me up an escape rope and then get the hell out. I’ll be right behind.”

  Cliff raced across the hangar, making a quick assessment of the bomb birds. They were well-designed. Simple to use. He pulled levers and spun dials, aiming them up at the heart of the ship. Mooring lines fell to the floor as he unfastened hooks and kicked away ballast bags.

  He glanced back at the scorpion craft. The top of the red balloon fell from view, the hatch dangling open. It was time.

  The first bird took off at an angle, smashing into the side of the hangar and bursting. Cliff covered his head as debris rained down. He launched the next and the next. His ears rang with the noise of the explosions. Smoke filled the chamber and chunks of flaming wood tumbled from the deck above. Cliff raced from bird to bird, setting them off as rapidly as he could manage. He missed one or two, but he wasn’t stopping to go back. He ran for the hatch, diving beneath the smoke and grabbing for the rope that Sabine had left him. Slipping the loop around his waist, he tumbled out into the air below.

  He was falling. Falling into nothing. Far, far below were plants and trees and jagged rocks, rising toward him. Too fast. He’d never stop. Not until he stopped hard enough to end it all.

  The rope jerked him to a sudden halt, sending pain streaking through him. Miles and miles of nothing hung below him, waiting. The rope shuddered. It slipped. He spun helplessly, slipping inch by inch. A slow, unending death.

  A hand grabbed his foot, pulling. Hard metal mesh scratched against his legs, then his belly. The rope snapped. He tumbled, landing on solid ground. Cool metal pressed against his cheek.

  “Would you stop screaming? You’re safe now.”

  Gentle arms wrapped around him, helping him sit up, and a beloved face smiled.

  “Sabine.” He crushed her against him.

  “Yes, love, that’s better. I much prefer you to sigh my name than to scream it in mortal terror.” She wiggled from his arms and went to the controls. “You did well, partner. Now let’s go home.”

  “Home,” he agreed. Sabine had been right from the beginning. The dukedom, with its problems and responsibilities and heaps of clutter, was a part of him now. England had become home, as much as Chicago was. He could live in either place, or both. He would probably never be a proper duke, but he wouldn’t run away from the title, either. After all, it had led him to his pirate. And wherever she lived would always be home.

  51

  I’m home!

  Sabine wanted to jump for joy. Riding down from Fledermaus Zwei on the cargo hoist took an absurdly long time, but she suffered through it for the sake of her loved ones. Cliff still suffered from height anxiety after his wild jump from Redbeard’s dirigible. He shied away from the rail and paled every time he even looked at the rope ladder. He’d happily scooped a sleepy Lola into his arms and declared that they needed to ride down instead. Now he stood rigidly in the exact center of the lift, hugging his daughter tightly and looking anywhere but down.

  The last rays of sunlight glinted off the windows of Sabine’s mansion, bathing the area in a warm, orange light. A ridiculous home, certainly, with its unusably numerous rooms and its piles of the old duke’s eclectic collection, but it was hers. She couldn’t wait to get inside and bury herself beneath the blankets of her unnecessarily large bed.

  The lift touched down and Cliff let out an audible breath. He climbed right over the rail, not bothering to wait for Sabine to open the gate, and strode off in the direction of the dower house, his long legs carrying him swiftly across the lawn.

  Sabine ran to catch up. “Where are you going?”

  Cliff stopped, frowning at her in puzzlement. “Home. I need to put Lola to bed.”

  Sabine’s heart sank. That big bed wouldn’t be so cozy after all if she had to lie in it alone.

  “Where did you think I was going?” he asked, his brow still crinkled in confusion.

  “I’d hoped you might want to stay with me at my house. I know it’s a mess and I haven’t any servants, but the bedrooms are clean and I’d… I’d like us to be together.”

  “So would I. I suppose I assumed you’d come to my house. That was presumptuous and insensitive of me. I apologize.”

  “Yes, you are clearly a terrible person, Hartleigh.”

  His mouth curved into a winning smile. “So, your house.” He changed direction, moving swiftly toward the massive Hartleigh ancestral home.

  “It’s the only house I’ve ever owned,” Sabine explained. “The first time I’ve ever had a place that I could return to. My childhood home and the houses I lived in with Redbeard’s daughters were places to rest my head, but I lived there at the will of others. Here I come and go as I please. It’s mine.”

  “Then I’m honored to be invited to share it.”

  “I’d like you to have half. I’ll draw up a contract. Fifty-fifty ownership. I want it to be ours.”

  Cliff’s arms were full with Lola, but he moved close enough that he brushed against Sabine. “What’s more than honored? Overwhelmed? Laid low? Awestruck?”

  “‘Happy’ is good enough.”

  They tucked Lola into bed in the chamber that had once been reserved for the Duchesses of Hartleigh. It had been one of the first rooms Cliff had cleared out, and it was now completely empty except for a bed.

  “Imagine it filled with dolls and wooden swords and terrariums full of spiders and frogs,” Sabine whispered.

  Cliff squeezed her hand. “She wants a scorpion now.”

  Sabine grinned. Towing Der Skorpion had slowed their journey by two days, but Lola’s joy at having a craft she could learn to fly had made it all worthwhile. Sabine was nearly as excited to begin lessons as she was.

  “Our room is right through there.�
� Sabine led Cliff through the adjoining door into the master bedchamber. While not as bare as Lola’s new room, it still lacked many furnishings. It needed a cozy sofa where she could curl up with a book, or where they could make love if they were bored of the bed. Someday, this house would be perfect.

  Cliff started stripping immediately, dropping his clothing on the floor as if he actually had a valet to pick everything up for him. Sabine found herself stopping to watch, marveling again at how stunningly handsome he was. She wondered if perhaps her interpretation of handsome had been warped, if he looked better to her than an identical stranger would. Probably. He was her Cliff, and his internal beauty shone like a thousand suns. Maybe that was how he could stare at her scars and call them beautiful. Maybe he saw the same in her. She shimmied out of her dress, enjoying the way his eyes darkened with each layer that peeled away.

  They climbed into bed from opposite sides, reaching out to touch hands across the enormous gulf that separated them. Why did anyone need a bed this large?

  Cliff’s fingers stroked hers, moving in little whorls across her skin. Tiny vibrations of pleasure raced up her arm. He edged closer, his caress sliding along the back of her hand, over her wrist, slowly up to her elbow. Every nerve in her body buzzed with excitement, and she scooted closer. Bit by bit they inched together, until his hands found her torso and his lips met hers. At last. The kiss, the joining was like magic. She wrapped an arm around him, drawing their bodies flush, sighing at the heat of contact.

  His hands mapped her curves, cupping and squeezing. She rubbed her thigh against his cock and he groaned at the friction. A moment later, he broke their kiss.

  “I’m sorry I still don’t have any condoms. I’ll have to go into town. You’d think a serviceable airship ought to come stocked.”

  Sabine laid a hand on his chest. “Cliff. I think we need to talk.”

  “That doesn’t sound ominous at all.” He pulled away, once again leaving a large gap between them in the enormous bed. “What have I done wrong?”