“How about you, Alphonse? Have you fallen passionately in love with every woman you’ve bedded? Ivory is attractive, intelligent, and could quite possibly best me with a sword, I’ll at least give you that. But love her? I do not think so.” Maddox stopped pacing for a moment as if the mere mention of Ivory’s character and charms was too much for him; even his voice softened. “I would, however, be remiss if I did not acknowledge that I did …feel something for the woman. Perhaps admiration, or even passion, but I’ve only known her a week.” Maddox looked back over his shoulder at Green, whose arms folded and head tipped slightly. Green’s eyes clearly showed complete disbelief of his captain’s denials. “I cannot stop this now. It’s too late,” Maddox continued and turned back with his hands on his hips.
“Allow me to answer your question, my friend.” Green spoke softly. “Yes. I loved one woman long ago, when I was with Barclay. You recently met her—the tall one with the golden hair. I suppose I love her still, for each time I see her, I only want her more. I took her to my bed long after I knew I loved her, and I loved her from the moment I first looked upon her. A week is a lifetime for love, when a week is all you have.”
Maddox ignored Green’s words and stated, “We cannot change our course. There’s too much at stake. Our plan shall continue, and by this time tomorrow, we will be on our way back to Kingston as very rich men.”
Green walked to the door and rested his hand on the knob. He looked back at Maddox over his shoulder, and his final thoughts moved to words. “Just so that we are clear, this is not “our” plan Maddox, this is your plan.” He closed the door behind him and turned to his left. However, his thoughts weren’t finished with him yet. They were pulling him in the direction of Ivory’s cabin yet again, until Richard appeared before him, asking if the Captain needed anything before he turned in.
“No. The Captain is sleeping now. How is Madame Shepard?”
“I believe she’s asleep as well, sir. Is there anythin’ I can get for ye?”
Green took a deep breath and blew it out, turned his head a final time in Ivory’s direction, and answered, “No. I have something to which I must attend. Goodnight, Richard,” Then, he walked off toward the deck.
* * * *
Miranda and Cassandra were sound asleep when Keara crept into their quarters and shook them awake with an urgent push on both of their shoulders. “Wake up. We’ve arrived.”
They dressed in a matter of seconds, donning their slops and hats and fully arming themselves. “Willy has his orders, as does Phineas. We’ll weigh anchor two hundred yards out, so in order to make it to the Cat by four o’clock, we’ll need to get moving,” Keara said, pulling her watch from her pocket and then tucking it back in as they exited the room. She tossed her head, signaling Willy to lower the longboat and round up the five crewmen who would be joining her, including Sandy.
“I want to come with you,” Cassandra insisted as she tossed her leg over the side of the boat and climbed aboard.
“Cass, I really need you to stay. I can do this myself.”
“I never said you couldn’t. I simply said I want to come. And I thought you were bringing at least ten.”
“I changed my mind. I was afraid too many would just make us easier to spot. And I don’t have time to argue this with you. You have your own free will, so grab an oar, cousin, and we’ll be on our way.” She turned to the burly man next to her. “What’s the best way to approach her, Sandy?”
“I’d say from the stern on the port side. Reason bein’, that’s where he’ll be holdin’ her—a few doors down from his quarters.”
“What makes you say that?”
“I know, is all. He’s a cabin down the left passageway where he holds important prisoners or those he wishes ta’ ’terrogate.”
“We’ll have to take your word on that, I suppose,” Cassandra said, pulling an oar.
“Thank goodness they’ve left the lights on fer us,” Sandy said, nodding to acknowledge he spotted the Cat among the ships docked in the harbor ahead. “See her there, Cap’n?”
Keara yanked the spyglass from her belt, pulling it to her eye for a moment, and then she slammed it shut and ordered, “Get down!”
“What is it?” Cassandra asked.
“They’ve a man in the nest, watching.”
“I been up in the nest more times than I can remember, Cap’n. If we keep behind the ships in the darkness, he won’t spot us. He’s watchin’ fer breakin’ water and a lantern. We’ve no lantern lit, which means we have ta’ slow down as much as possible so as not ta’ make waves.” Keara nodded and made to dip her oar in the water.
“Wait, Cap’n,” Sandy said as he pulled his oar across his lap.
“What is it, Sandy?” Keara asked turning back to look. One by one, the lights aboard the Cat were going out as if the ship itself were going to sleep. “Well, isn’t that curious?” she murmured.
“It’s curious, alright. After dark, Ol’ Blacksnake keeps that ship lit like the night sky when he’s in port. Somethin’ ain’t quite right about this,” Sandy agreed.
“Carry on, now. We’ve no time to wonder about putting out candles. Deep, slow strokes then. And keep to the boats. It may take us a bit longer to get there, but we’ll do what we must,” Keara stated, pushing her oar deeply into the water. Cassandra rowed quietly right behind her.
“I suppose you’re wondering why I insisted on coming,” she spoke softly, making sure the others behind her couldn’t hear.
“I’m not wondering at all, Cass.”
“You’re not?” she asked in a voice of upturned surprise.
“If you’re hoping to see ol’ Green Eyes, you’ll most likely get your wish. He almost never leaves Blacksnake’s side, so I’ve heard.”
“I thought I may be able to help.”
“Well, I wish you luck. We can use all the help we can get.”
Chapter Twenty-One
“Cap’n, it’s time,” Richard whispered to Ivory over her shoulder. Ivory snapped back towards him and leapt to her feet. She opened the trunk and burrowed into it for the dagger, and then she wrapped the red sash around her hips. “Hand me my belt and be on your way. I told you I won’t have your blood on my hands—I have more than enough already.”
“I done what I said.”
“What?” she hissed, as she buckled her belt and sheathed the dagger. “I told you…”
“I know what ye said, but ‘twas easy. I seen a man down the pier tie her up and head towards the city. He nearly fell in the drink fer holdin’ on ta’ his bottle. He won’t be back tonight, I can promise ye that.”
“No. Stay here. I’ll tie you up and take your keys,” Ivory threatened.
“Have ye lost yer mind? They’ll fer sure flog me, then! I know ye can take me, and I know the stories of how ye make men—good sailin’ men— outta young fellas like me. Please, Cap’n Ivory…”
Ivory glared at Richard and shook her head, as she opened the chest and pulled out what once were three beautiful dresses. She’d used the dagger to shred them into strips and then tied them together to make a rope long enough to reach the water. She climbed on the cot and poked her head out the window to make sure she wouldn’t be seen.
“What happened to yer dresses?”
“I told you I already had a plan. Now please, just go.” Ivory tied one end of the rope of former garments to the frame of the cot and tossed the rest out the window. “Goodbye, dear Richard,” she sighed and pushed herself out and over the window sill.
The eerie quiet unnerved her as she climbed down, hand over hand, as fast as she could. The adrenaline already had her heart skipping beats when, with less than a few yards to go, she felt a tug on the rope. Her head snapped back to find the small dark figure she knew to be Richard descending above her. “Dammit, Richard, go back!” she shouted in a whisper, but he continued as if he hadn’t heard her. She’d reached at least her own height from the water, but the rope was beyond stressed.
Ivory�
��s urging for Richard to turn back flipped to begging him to hurry, worried that the rope wouldn’t bear their weight and the splash when they hit the water would surely expose their plot to immediate discovery. She had barely spoken the words when Richard lost his grip on the smooth taffeta and fell free. Had Ivory not held the shreds of a dress pressed tightly between her thighs and wrapped around her calf when she caught him, she believed her well-thought-out plan would have shattered on the surface of the water like broken glass.
Ivory reached out and clamped onto Richard’s cotton breeches and snatched him from the night air. She held him tightly, and the very tips of his hair dipped into the sea as he swung like a pendulum upside down. She caught her breath, gave a sigh of relief, and lowered him an inch at a time. “Please, don’t drop me,” he pleaded in a whisper. Suddenly, her hand drew back now holding only his pants, and the boy, naked from the waist down, slid with barely a spatter into the water.
Frozen, and still a good five feet from the surface, she breathed deeply, tossed Richard his knickers, and adjusted her grip while looking up from whence she came. In that moment, the fabric tore free from the cot and she dropped the last few feet as stiff as a pike. When her body pierced the surface of the water, she made no more sound than that of a fish breaking.
Richard swam underwater ahead of her as far as he could before surfacing to breathe and look back, checking on Ivory’s progress behind him. She realized the boy was telling the truth when they finally reached the adjacent pier and she saw the boat he’d spied. The dock was illuminated in the soft glow of a lantern that sat atop the farthest piling from shore. “Wait here,” Richard whispered as he climbed onto the pier, snatched the lantern, and put out the light. Ivory clung to the dock below and waited until she saw the small, pale hand reaching out to assist her.
* * * *
Maddox stirred in the night. He’d taken Green’s advice and set down his cup, falling into his lavish bunk soon after his friend left. Yet he slept only an hour, and off and on at that. Now, he craved water, and lots of it. He pushed himself up and raked his hands several times through his mussed black curls, which now nearly stood on end, and then rubbed hard at his eyes to open them. Once on his feet, his legs felt like lead, and he crouched for a moment before forcing his knees to straighten. He stood and arched his back and searched frantically with his blurry eyes for his chamber pot.
Once relieved, he staggered to his desk, but the water pitcher was dry when he lifted it to pour. He released an exasperated groan and stepped to his door, opening it with a hard pull to call for Richard. “Richard,” he groaned several times, but no answer returned. “Where the hell is that boy?” He glanced up and down the hall, but there wasn’t a soul in sight.
“It’s a sad state of affairs when a ship’s captain has to fetch his own blasted water,” he mumbled hoarsely, retrieving the pitcher and turning back to the door, but not before catching a glimpse of the clock. It was nearly three thirty in the morning. His mouth was so dry he thought he’d swallowed a pound of dirt, and he swished and swirled his tongue in his mouth to pull whatever bit of moisture he could just to make a sound.
Pitcher in hand, he walked out of his quarters and stood in the hallway. He waited a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness and then wondered why there wasn’t a lit candle or lantern to be found. Again, he turned back and took a candle from his desk and pressed its wick to the solitary flickering flame near his bunk. Candle in one hand and pitcher in the other, he made his way down the passageway until he found the water barrel. He dipped the pitcher in up over his hand and poured the water into his mouth until it ran over the corners of his lips in streams, soaking his unbuttoned shirt.
His Adam’s apple bounced as he held his head back, gulping down the liquid. He poured the remainder of the water over his head with an audible “Ahhh…” As he began to return to his senses, he felt something hard and cold poking him in the groin. He stuffed his hand beneath the waist of his pants, and when he reached the object, he knew immediately that it was the pearl-handled razor. He returned it to his belt and secured it. The clouds were dissipating in his mind, as, once again, he found himself, standing in the light of that single candle, just outside of Ivory’s door.
His hands shook. He raised his right fist to knock but pulled it back and rested it on his chest in a futile attempt to still the tremble. He set the candle down and tried threading his fingers together as if to pray, but it was of no use. His jaw tightened and his brows fell low over his eyes. His body tensed from toe to nose, and his hands flexed open hard before curling into two tight fists that he used to pound on the door with every bit of frustration and anxiety trapped within him. Each thundering blow he landed was an effort to relieve the pressure. “Ivory! Wake up!”
When no answer came, he rushed back to his cabin for the keys which Richard always hung on the hook outside of his door when he wasn’t holding them. But the peg was empty. “Richard!” he called out again, but still the boy did not come. With bare feet and his unsecured shirt flying in his wake, he sprinted down the corridor. Upon reaching her door again, he threw himself against it. “Wake up and answer me, woman!” Now, soaked in water and sweat, he stood back. His chest rose and fell with steamed breath and anguish, when the fear that something may have happened to her rolled up his spine, leaving him with a chill. Unable to wait one second longer, his hands gripped his hips, and he lowered his right shoulder slightly. A moment later, the door blew open, and he was covered in splintered wood and devastation.
* * * *
“Around there,” Sandy whispered, pointing to the port side of the stern of the Cat. They’d reached the darkest hour before dawn, and the oddity of how the ship was almost completely unlit spooked Sandy. “I don’t like this a little bit,”
“What’s wrong?”
“Blacksnake could keep twenty candle makers in business. The man’s afraid a’ the dark or somethin’. I never seen her without a light in every winda. Sorry, ladies, but this is…”
“Afraid of the dark, you say?” Keara asked, raising both eyebrows and holding her oar in her lap. “Perhaps he’s just trying to hide in the dark.”
“Well, all I know is she looks like a ghost ship t’night. Something’s amok.”
“I couldn’t care less about something being amok, other than us. Now, let’s take advantage of our good fortune and get aboard. You, Tobias, tie her off here and stay put until we return.”
One at a time, they climbed through the gun hole as Sandy instructed and kept to the shadows—which was easy since there was barely one candle alit in each compartment they passed through on their way up. Sandy’s knowledge of every nook and cranny of the Cat helped lead them through her belly and straight up to her whiskers within minutes. Once they’d passed several sailors in their drunken slumber, as well as a few fearless rats, they found themselves in the blackened hallway just outside of the captain’s quarters.
“Down that way, last door on the left,” Sandy instructed.
“Aren’t you coming?” Cassandra asked.
“Wait…” he answered, as he touched the captain’s door with the tips of his fingers, and it creaked slowly ajar. Sandy peered through the few inches of doorway and then pressed the door open far enough that he could step inside. He reached across his body with his right hand and unsheathed his broadsword, raising it at his side. Keara, Cassandra, and their three sailors waited in the dark hallway with their backs pressed against opposite walls, until Sandy emerged a few moments later with his sword back in its place, shaking his head.
They heard a loud crash and spun in unison towards the direction of what they believed to be Ivory’s cabin. “What was that?” Cassandra asked, falling back hard against the wall. “What the devil?” Sandy hissed, dashing down the hallway behind Keara, as the others followed suit with their weapons now drawn.
Keara pressed her free hand out behind her, motioning for them to wait. Her hand still raised to hold them off, she assessed the
situation. The door was hanging off its frame, clearly having been destroyed in a fit of rage. The bit of light emanating from the room leaked into the hallway before them, and the silhouette of Keara’s left hand began to count to three… and then, suddenly, stopped.
She tipped her head around the busted door frame and found Maddox Carbonale, standing over the empty cot, unarmed and seething. “Blacksnake! What have you done to Ivory?” Keara burst into the room and shouted—the tip of her sword pointed directly at his chest.
“I’ve done nothing to her. As you can see, she isn’t here,” he answered smartly, raising his hands from his sides and holding a folded letter in his right hand.
“Give me that,” Keara growled, reaching out to snatch it. Maddox raised his arm higher and pulled it away.
“I beg your pardon, Madame, but this letter is addressed to me. And, it’s of a rather intimate nature.”
“Give me the letter now, or I’ll slice you in two!”
“Keara, wait, please,” Cassandra said, slowly pushing Keara’s sword to the side while she stared into her eyes, as if begging for patience. “May I please see the note, Captain?”
“As I said, this is addressed to me.”
“Please, Captain, I must insist. If there is any information in it which could help us find our cousin, we’d be ever so grateful,” Cassandra implored him.
“What is the meaning of this?” Master Green shouted from the doorway of the room—pistols drawn at their backs.
“Master Green, there’s a very large sword pointed directly at my heart. If you’d be so kind as to lower your weapons, I’d be forever in your debt.”
“Will someone tell me what has happened? Where is Madame Ivory?” Green asked, slowly lowering his pistols to the floor.
“Ivory’s gone, in case you hadn’t noticed, and your captain here won’t give us her letter.” Keara growled.
“Maddox, is this true? Ivory has escaped?”
The Blue Diamond (The Razor's Edge Book 1) Page 17