Never Trust a Pirate

by Valerie Bowman

  “No!” he cried in anguish as he turned and ran back through the captain’s cabin, up the ladder, and across the quarterdeck toward the aft where Danielle had jumped. He was vaguely aware of Rafe behind him calling him to stop, but Cade was mindless. He ran past Baptiste’s crew who were sword-fighting Danny and Sean and the other men from his crew. Cade ripped off his leather vest, tossed it to the deck, and vaulted off the side of the ship and into the harbor. He landed with a splash, cutting his knee on a waterlogged piece of debris. An unholy pain ripped through his right leg but he didn’t stop. He sprang to the surface, gasped for air, and turned frantically in all directions. “Danielle!” he cried. “Danielle! Where are you?” It was too dark to see much. He lifted his hand from the water. Blood covered it. It was not his own. “Danielle!” he called again, but silence was his only answer.

  * * *

  Two hours later, Cade lay in his grand bed back on The Elenor with a broken leg. Sean had set the break by forcing Cade to down a half bottle of whiskey and stuffing a rag in his mouth. The leg was still broken, Cade was not foxed, and the whiskey bottle sat on the table between him and Rafe.

  “How does it feel?” Rafe asked, nodding toward Cade’s leg as he leaned forward and braced his elbows on his thighs. He was sitting in a chair next to Cade’s bed.

  “Hurts like Hades,” Cade muttered.

  Rafe scrubbed the back of his arm across his forehead. “You shouldn’t have jumped overboard.”

  Cade crossed his arms over his chest and glared at his brother. “Don’t ever say that to me again. Now, please tell me Baptiste is dead. Or at least beaten within an inch of his godforsaken life.”

  Rafe shook his head. “After Danielle jumped and we overpowered Baptiste, Grim took him to the hold while I chased after you. Baptiste was caught so off guard learning he’d let the Black Fox slip through his fingers, he didn’t put up much of a fight. The rest of your crew subdued Baptiste’s men.”

  Cade groaned and leaned his head back on the pillow. “So, he’s not dead.”

  “No. But along with the English turncoats aboard The French Secret, he will be coming back with us to England to answer to justice. Grimaldi’s packed them all off to his ship.”

  Cade’s fist gripped the covers. He nearly ripped them. Danielle was gone. They hadn’t even found her body.

  “Don’t worry, Cade,” Rafe continued. “Baptiste will be tried for Danielle’s murder as well. He won’t see the outside of a prison for the rest of his life.”

  “It won’t bring her back,” Cade whispered in a rough voice. He struggled to keep his face straight. His leg hurt like bloody hell but his heart hurt worse and his leg would heal someday. He deserved this. The one time he’d actually fallen in love with a woman and she was ripped away from him. He could admit it now that she was gone. He loved her.

  “I’m damned sorry.” Rafe hung his head and studied his boots.

  “You shouldn’t be. You risked your life,” Cade replied, his mouth dry. “For mine.”

  “Of course I did. You’re my brother.”

  Was it Cade’s imagination or had Rafe’s voice gone up a bit on that last word? As if it had been difficult to say. Rafe cleared his throat. “You would have done the same for me.”

  “I’m no hero,” Cade ground out. He should have downed the entire bottle of whiskey. Unlike the pain in his leg, this pain was too much.

  “You could have fooled me,” Rafe replied.

  Cade narrowed his eyes on his brother, questioning.

  “Grimaldi told me,” Rafe said. “You’ve been working with him since you learned I was captured in France.”

  Cade nearly growled. “He had no right to tell you that, but it’s not because—”

  “Yes, it is,” Rafe said. “It’s because of me. I know it. Grimaldi confirmed my suspicions. You’ve been working against Baptiste ever since, to avenge me.”

  Cade clenched his jaw and glanced away. “Those bastards nearly killed you.”

  Rafe shook his head. “I don’t understand why you didn’t tell me when you came to London. Why did you let me go on thinking you were hardly more than a petty criminal? I’d no idea you were a privateer, working for the War Office.”

  Cade’s jaw clenched again. “Would it have made a difference how you felt about me after all these years?”

  “Of course it would have, I—”

  Cade looked at his brother, allowing the years of hurt and misunderstandings to shine in his eyes. “That’s why I didn’t tell you.”

  Rafe scrubbed a hand through his hair and sat up to face him. “Damn it, Cade. Why do you always have to be so contrary? Why can’t you ever let anyone be proud of you?”

  Cade shrugged. “Perhaps for the same reason you’ve always done things to make people proud.”

  Rafe cursed under his breath. “Which is what reason?”

  “Because it’s what’s expected of us. Rafe and Cade, the good son and the bad one, the white sheep and the black, the hero and the ne’er-do-well.”

  “Stop it!” Rafe shouted. He jumped to his feet and pounded his fist against the table, making the whiskey bottle jump.

  “Why? You don’t want to hear the truth?” Cade let his head fall back against the pillows. He’d saw off his damn leg to escape this room right now.

  “It’s not the truth,” Rafe argued. “It’s nonsense. It’s—”

  “Mother told me it was true,” Cade said softly, staring down at the sheets that rested over his legs. They were only a green blur.

  Rafe shook his head. “No.”

  “It’s true. I heard her. One day she asked me, ‘Why can’t you be more like Rafe?’”

  “What did you say?” Rafe’s lips formed a tight white line across his face.

  “I said, ‘Why can’t you be more like Rafe and stand up to Father?’”

  “No.” Rafe pressed the back of his wrist to his mouth as if he might throw up.

  “Yes,” Cade replied. His brother had to finally hear the truth. “That was the day I left. I had nothing more to say to her.”

  Cade scratched savagely at his bandaged head, welcoming the physical pain.

  “You left me, too, you know,” Rafe said. “You didn’t even say good-bye.”

  Cade pulled the whiskey bottle from the tabletop, pulled off the stopper, and took a healthy swig. If he was going to continue this conversation, he needed more to drink. “I asked Mother to say good-bye to you for me.”

  Rafe hung his head. His words were low, angry. “She didn’t.”

  “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

  Rafe lifted his head to look at his brother. “She thought you were coming back. She used to ask me to leave a candle lit for you. We kept it lit for years.”

  “I had no intention of returning ever,” Cade admitted, taking another swig. He’d need another bottle before this conversation was through.

  “I didn’t blame you. I never blamed you for leaving,” Rafe said, his words holding an edge.

  “I did.” Those were two of the hardest words he’d ever spoken. The hardest and the most truthful.

  “Why?” Rafe pressed his knuckles against his forehead. “I know how miserable you were there.”

  Cade took a third swig and winced when he wiped his hand against the back of his raw mouth. “I’ve hated myself every day since.”

  Rafe held out his hand for the whiskey. “You shouldn’t have. You did what was right … for yourself.”

  Cade handed him the bottle. The dark liquid sloshed as he delivered it to his brother. “You stayed. You were the hero.”

  “I stayed,” Rafe ground out, taking a long swig. “I stayed like a martyr. I did what I thought I had to and so did you.”

  “I suppose that makes some sort of sense.” Cade sighed, his hands falling uselessly to his lap. “Thank you.”

  Rafe nodded and took another long drink. “Promise me something.”

  Cade didn’t look at him. “What?”

  Rafe’s voice
was solid, sure. “Promise me that you’ll never again forget that you’re my brother, that you’re not alone, and that you have family.”

  Cade nodded once. “I’ll never forget.” He waited for Rafe to hand him the bottle and took a final swig. “Danielle told me her fondest wish when she was a child was to have a sister. I suppose if I’ve been given a brother—and such a handsome devil at that”—he cracked a grin—“that I shouldn’t take my time with him for granted.”

  Rafe grinned, too. “I promise the same.” He took a deep breath. “I’m damn sorry about Dani—”

  “Don’t,” Cade warned.

  Rafe merely nodded.

  Feeling warm inside from something other than the whiskey, Cade reached out to shake his brother’s hand. Rafe leaned down to the bed and pulled Cade into an embrace. Cade clapped him on the back. Both men were choked up when, seconds later, Rafe left go and stepped away.

  “Now,” Cade said. “Let’s see about getting back home.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  London, September 1817

  “You’re positively morose, Cade. You’ve got to cheer up.” Rafe leaned back against a cushion as the coach jolted over a pothole on the way to the docks.

  Cade scowled, crossed his arms over his chest, and glared out the window. “I’m a pirate without a ship. How do you expect me to be?”

  Rafe rolled his eyes. “You’re not a pirate, sir, and you’re not without a ship. Your ship just happens to be in Portugal at the moment.”

  “Without me,” Cade grumbled.

  “Danny and Sean are more than capable of sailing it, sir, and you had to stay here because you broke your leg.”

  “Danny and Sean are no doubt passed out drunk in a Portuguese brothel and please don’t remind me about my leg. I can’t remember the last time I’ve been so bloody miserable, not since I was a boy.”

  “I’d venture to guess the reason you’re miserable has little to do with your leg, sir.”

  “Don’t say it,” Cade ground out. Danielle had been gone for six long weeks and Cade missed her desperately. He was still struggling with the fact that she’d been the Black Fox. “And if you call me sir once more, I may well beat you to death with my cane.” He waved the weapon about menacingly.

  Rafe just laughed. “You’ll have to catch me first, and I happen to know I can outrun you at present.”

  The coach came to a halt at the docks, right next to where a beautiful single-masted cutter was moored. Now that his leg was mostly healed, Cade wanted to get back out to sea, away from here, away from memories of Danielle. Memories would haunt him aboard, too, but it was worse in Rafe’s house. The library. The foyer. Even his bedchamber where she’d wrapped his hand and teased him about his boots.

  “She’s a beauty,” Rafe whispered, nodding at the cutter. “Remember, you promised to let me go out with you on her maiden voyage.”

  Cade was barely listening. All he could do was stare at the beautiful ship. They’d started work on her when he’d first come to town and she was finally ready. He’d christened her two days ago. The Danielle. Of course doing so would remind him of her, too, but it seemed fitting.

  Cade pushed himself out of the coach and stood admiring the vessel. Rafe hopped down beside him. A shadow peeled away from the side of a nearby warehouse. A man strolled over to them, his hands in his pockets. Impeccably dressed and stoic as usual. Mark Grimaldi.

  “Well, well, well. If it isn’t two of my favorite employees,” Grimaldi said.

  Cade turned to look at the general and curled his lip. “What are you doing here, Grim?”

  “Is that any way for you to greet your employer?” Grimaldi asked.

  “Former employer,” Rafe clarified.

  “And possible future employer,” Grimaldi replied.

  “I knew you wanted something,” Cade said. “You never find us to inquire about our health. My leg is mostly healed now, by the by.”

  Grimaldi tilted his head to the side. “Glad to hear it.”

  “I bet you are,” Cade scoffed.

  Grimaldi shrugged. “You are two of my best. Is it my fault if I need your help?”

  “Spit it out, Grim. What do you need us to do?” Rafe tipped up the brim of his hat.

  A wide smile spread across Grimaldi’s face. “At the moment, I merely need you to board your ship and meet my other two best agents.”

  Cade’s throat closed. He clutched his cane so tightly his knuckles turned white. Two months ago, Danielle would have been one of Grim’s other best agents.

  Cade led the way across the gangplank, anger making his strides long and aggressive, despite the lingering pain in his leg. “Why in the hell you’ve helped yourself to my ship, Grim, I’ll never know,” he tossed back over his shoulder as he walked.

  Rafe and Grimaldi followed him. The three made their way across the main deck and down the steps to the captain’s cabin.

  Just as Cade pushed open the door, Grimaldi said, “My apologies. I thought perhaps the woman for whom the ship was named would be welcome on it.”

  Cade stopped. All the air in the room had been sucked away. Standing across the cabin, directly in front of him was Danielle. She wore a bright blue day dress that matched her gorgeous eyes, her hair was pulled back in a chignon, and she had a look of supreme uncertainty on her face.

  Daphne was there, too, standing in the corner, but Cade barely noticed her.

  “What…? What are you doing here?” he breathed, staring at Danielle.

  Danielle moved around the table and came to him, a wide smile on her face. “Good afternoon, gentlemen.” She threaded her arms through both Cade’s and Rafe’s. “In the last year I must have participated in half a dozen missions, but the one with you two was by far my favorite.”

  Cade continued to stare at her as if she wasn’t real. She was touching him, actually touching him. He could smell her familiar orchid perfume, but still he couldn’t believe it. He glanced at his brother. Rafe looked nothing other than thoroughly amused and simultaneously surprised.

  “What are you doing here?” Cade asked, searching Danielle’s heartbreakingly lovely face. She looked as if she’d gained a bit of weight since he’d last seen her. It agreed with her. “You died.”

  Danielle looked up at him through her dark lashes. “I didn’t die.”

  “But you can’t swim,” Cade breathed.

  “I never said I couldn’t swim. I said I didn’t swim. I told you. I’ve been on ships since I was thirteen.”

  “But there was so much blood.”

  “Bastard got a good clean shot right through my shoulder,” Danielle replied. “Hurt like hell but it’s healed nicely.”

  A storm cloud gathered on Cade’s face. “Why didn’t you come back?”

  “I had no choice.” She gave Grimaldi an accusing stare. “Care to explain, General?”

  “My orders,” Grimaldi replied. “She couldn’t tell you she was alive. Until today.”

  Cade turned toward Grimaldi and lunged at him across the table. The man must have been expecting it because he stepped back quickly while Rafe held Cade at bay.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” Cade shouted through clenched teeth.

  Grimaldi had the grace to look away, his mouth twisted in regret. “I had to do it. We couldn’t risk Baptiste finding out she was alive.”

  Cade wanted to wrap his cane around Grim’s neck. “Baptiste is in prison, you ass.”

  “Yes, but he had spies everywhere,” Grimaldi replied. “We couldn’t risk Danielle getting actually hurt.”

  That shut Cade up. For a moment. “You’re a sadistic bastard, you know that, Grim?”

  “All in the name of His Majesty,” Grimaldi replied, bowing. “We came to tell you the truth as soon as we could.”

  “I swear I didn’t know about this,” Rafe hastened to add.

  “On the contrary. I wasn’t about to make your brother keep such a secret,” Grimaldi said.

  “Is she safe now?” C
ade demanded, studying Danielle’s face. He still couldn’t believe this was real. That she was truly here, standing in front of him.

  He turned to look at Daphne, whose pretty gray eyes were swimming with tears. “Believe it, Cade. It’s true. I only found out today myself.”

  Some of Cade’s anger dissolved when he saw how upset poor Daphne was.

  Grimaldi continued. “We’ve rounded up most of the men who were working with Baptiste. Danielle’s been staying with her mother by the sea for the last several weeks.”

  Her mother? She’d got her wish. Cade turned to Danielle. “How is she? Your mother?”

  Danielle’s voice was low but sure. “Doing much better. The sea air has worked wonders for her condition and there is a talented doctor near Brighton who has been helping us.”

  Cade drank in the sight of her as if she were fresh water in the middle of the ocean. “I’m happy to hear it.”

  Danielle searched Cade’s face. “Aren’t you happy to see me?”

  As if upon agreement, Rafe, Daphne, and Grimaldi all exchanged looks and quickly left the cabin, closing the door behind them.

  “I can’t believe it’s you,” Cade whispered once they were alone.

  Danielle reached for him. “I’m here, Cade. I’m real.”

  “I’m still planning to kill Grimaldi,” Cade growled.

  “Don’t be too angry with him. He was only trying to protect me. I seem to recall a certain captain locking me in his cabin for the same reason.”

  Cade was fighting an internal battle. Was he elated or incensed? It wasn’t clear to him any longer. He felt half-mad. “How were you the Black Fox?” he finally asked, focusing on something that might actually make sense if it were explained to him.

  Danielle sighed and smoothed her hands down her skirts. “I’d done it for years. To avenge my father’s death.”

  “Your father’s death?” What did that have to do with the Black Fox?

  “Baptiste killed my father,” she murmured.

  “He did? Why?”