by Jo Goodman
There was increased resistance from the merchants he dealt with as they balked at the rates he had set. Monitoring the accounts as she did, Kenna could not fail to notice the sharp decline in the number of businesses that used the Canning Line. Even some of the merchants who had no personal dealings with the late Roland Canning shied away from dealing with Rhys, giving in to pressure exerted by Roland’s friends.
Kenna honored her invitation to Captain Johnson the evening before he set sail for the Indies. She almost regretted that she had asked him to dine with them when he insisted upon mentioning the state of affairs of Canning Shipping.
“You’ve made some powerful enemies,” Johnson said, pulling on his chin thoughtfully before he helped himself to a second portion of halibut steak. “I don’t pretend to know why it’s so, I simply know what I hear. A lot of people, important people, are upset with you, Mr. Canning. Can’t remember the last time I heard Boston Wharf so noisy with rumor.”
“More coffee, Captain?” asked Kenna politely, trying to divert the conversation. Johnson was insensitive to her mood, but Rhys was not.
“It’s quite all right, Kenna. I’m interested in what the captain has to say.”
Johnson held out his cup. “Have I gone and put my foot in it?”
“No,” denied Rhys. “My wife is simply concerned for me. There have been a number of threats recently.”
Now Johnson was alarmed. “Threats? I hadn’t heard any talk of threats. Pardon me, Mrs. Canning. I didn’t know it had gone so far. Of course you don’t want me talking about it now.”
“I think it’s a little late for that, Captain,” said Kenna.
“Please tell us what you’ve heard.”
With additional encouragement from Rhys, Johnson related what he had learned at the docks. There were complaints from men who had been employed with Canning that Rhys has fired them unfairly.
“They were being paid by my father not to work for Garnet,” Rhys pointed out.
“Doesn’t matter to them. They’re talking now like you owe them a wage. Employment is harder to come by these days. None of the other lines have a place for them. Then there’s this matter of your rate increase. Folks are saying you’re profiteering.”
Kenna laughed at that. “Hardly. They could glance at our books and know otherwise.”
Johnson shrugged. “Truth is, Canning Shipping is setting the precedent. The other lines will be raising their rates in turn. No one is happy about that.”
“It will balance in the end,” Rhys said with a shade more confidence than he felt. “Our prices are fair. Far more than they were under my father’s leadership. The rates he proposed could not keep this line afloat.”
“That’s because he was trying to sink Garnet.”
Rhys could not hide his surprise. “You knew that?”
“Of course. I’m not saying it was common knowledge, you understand, but I worked for your father long enough to know the bent of his mind. I told you he didn’t have much good to say about Garnet. I hated to see Canning floundering as he tried to run Garnet aground, but it wasn’t my place to say anything. If it means anything to you, Mr. Canning, I think you’re doing the right thing.”
It did mean something to Rhys, Kenna realized, as she saw some of the tension seep out of him. He respected Johnson’s opinion and though he would not have changed what he was doing even if the captain had thought him foolhardy, it gave him a measure of strength to know someone else believed in him. She was happy that Johnson had come to dinner after all.
The following morning Kenna and Rhys stood in a bank of fog and bid farewell to the Carasea. They waited until the ship was no longer in sight before they turned away, Kenna to the office and Rhys to supervise the work being started on their new vessel.
Kenna had been working on the books less than an hour when her attention was drawn to the window by the rough and raised voices outside on the wharf. Pushing aside the ledger she ran to the window, wiping a pane clean with the heel of her hand so she could have a clear view of the commotion.
At the building site, less than fifty yards from where she stood, she saw a gang of men surround Rhys and his employees. The dozen or so men were armed with clubs and appeared to have every intention of using them if their demands were not met. Rhys seemed to be calm in the face of the danger but Kenna saw his hands were clenched at his side, giving lie to the unconcerned expression on his face. The shouting became two-sided as one of the Canning men took exception to something that was said. Kenna never saw who threw the first punch but suddenly there was chaos as fists and clubs swung wildly.
Her thoughts were all for Rhys as she fled from the window and raced down the steps to the front of the warehouse. Uncaring of her own safety she ran directly into the melee, picked up an unattached length of lumber, and began swinging with the rest of them.
Rhys saw her out of the corner of his eye and his misdirected attention allowed his opponent to knock him backward into a stack of barrels with a well-aimed blow to the chin. In turn the man who laid him low never knew what hit him. He felt as if he had been kicked in the head by a mule as Kenna brought down her plank on his bald spot. Groaning, he fell on all fours and Kenna walloped him again from behind, sending him sprawling.
“My God, Kenna!” Rhys shouted, extricating himself from the barrels. “Would you get out of here!”
“Thankless wretch!” she yelled back. She spun on her heels and directed her plank between the brawny shoulders of yet another ruffian.
Rhys pushed her out of the way as the man turned and lifted his own club to lay his assailant out. Rolling with the blow to his shoulder, Rhys grunted as he fell to the deck. Kenna’s shout alerted him and he was able to scramble to his feet as the club whistled past his ear. He caught the plank she tossed him and used it to defend himself, warding off the man’s wild swings.
“Kenna! Over here!”
Kenna recognized the familiar voice of Tanner Cloud and responded to the thundering command a moment before Alexis raised one of the pistols she carried and fired a warning shot into the air. Even before she reached their side the fighting had stopped. The pistol spoke nearly as eloquently as the veritable army of men standing behind the Clouds.
One by one the gang of ruffians dropped their clubs.
“That’s better,” Tanner said, his hard green eyes surveying the gathering, committing every unwanted face to his memory. “Now get out of here.”
The self-appointed gang leader got to his feet and drew himself up to his full height. He had a formidable presence that would have intimidated Kenna if it weren’t for the lump already developing on his head. She reminded herself that she had put it there. The man glared at Rhys, who not only did not flinch, but gave as good as he got. It was the leader who finally looked away, jerking his chin in the direction of the wharf and indicating to his followers it was time to leave. Everything in his demeanor said it was not over yet, Rhys ordered his own men back to work, then joined Kenna and the Clouds. The Garnet crew was already dispersing as he held out his hand to Tanner. “A timely arrival. Thank you.”
Tanner took Rhys’s hand in a firm grip. “I was glad to help, though Í think Alex is disappointed she couldn’t fire at something more substantial than the air overhead.”
Rhys grinned at Alex, who did indeed look a trifle disappointed as she gave the pistols to Tanner, and then leveled his flinty eyes on his own wife, who shrank a little behind Tanner. “I noticed Kenna did not experience the same sort of problem,” he said dryly. There was a promise in his tone that told her they would speak of her part in the fight later.
“If my opinion matters…” said Alexis.
“It doesn’t,” Tanner warned her, knowing full well he was wasting his breath.
“I thought she was wonderful.”
Kenna began to feel as if she wasn’t present; they were talking about her as if she had ceased to exist. She stepped out from behind Tanner and cleared her throat to remind everyone she was still
around. “I thought I responded adequately to the situation,” she said with a show of defiance. “At least I am not the one sporting a purpling chin.”
Tanner’s lips twitched as he looked at Rhys’s bruised chin and Rhys was hard pressed to temper his own smile. He touched his chin gingerly, wincing at the swollen tenderness.
Kenna took his arm. “Come back to the office. I’ll put something on that to keep it from getting worse, though it does have a certain rough appeal.”
Tanner and Alexis followed Rhys and Kenna back to the Canning warehouse. While Kenna applied a wet pack of tea leaves to Rhys’s chin Tanner outlined some of the precautions they would find necessary to take to prevent another incident.
“I appreciate your offer, the additional protection of your men, but this is not your concern,” said Rhys.
“I disagree,” Tanner said. “There would have been no interruption at the construction site today if you hadn’t taken steps to put an end to Roland’s scheming. Alex and I are united on this. We want to help.”
Kenna bit her lip and remained quiet, hoping Rhys was neither too proud nor too foolish to accept the Clouds’ assistance. She needn’t have worried.
“Then I am not going to turn you away,” said Rhys. “We’ll use patrols of men from Garnet and Canning to watch the wharf. Do you think fire is our biggest worry?”
Tanner nodded. “It is now. Wilson—that was the leader—tried his own method of reasoning with you first. There’s no way to be certain what manner of persuasion he’ll use next, but destroying your fleet by fire is as good a way as any.”
“Can’t we go to the authorities?” asked Kenna, “You know it was Wilson who started the trouble. Can’t we have him arrested?”
“He won’t be easy to locate,” Alexis told her. “And I do not believe for a moment that he is acting on his own. Even if he is arrested there will be someone else to take his place.”
Kenna frowned. “Then who is responsible?”
“Britt, perhaps,” Rhys said.
“Our lawyer?”
“Our former lawyer,” he reminded her. “Or any of his friends. We haven’t enough hours in the day to list all the people I’ve offended of late. Any of them might think I’ve given them just cause for retaliation.”
“It is not so bleak as all that,” said Alexis. “You have your share of supporters also. News of what happened today will spread quickly. The other lines will not stand idly by and wait for Wilson to torch your ships. Self-preservation, if nothing else, will make them want to help you. A fire on the wharf is likely to rage out of control. No one will want to risk that.”
“Alex is right,” Tanner agreed. “You’ve gained more friends than you’ve lost by your actions. Others will offer their assistance.”
Over the course of the next hour the four of them set down the plans that would keep Canning Shipping safe from another attack. Kenna offered suggestions periodically but she acknowledged early in the conversation that she had few strategic skills. This was not the case with the other three. Alexis was as quick as either of the men to point out the particular follies of one plan or the benefits of another. Kenna marveled at Alexis’s command of the situation, her knowledge of the harbor area, and the sharp clarity of her thinking. She could not help but wonder what had prepared this other woman to approach this problem as if she were readying for battle.
A collective sigh of satisfaction was drawn from all of them when the business was at an end.
Alexis laughed at herself, her amber eyes bright with the knowledge that she had met a challenge. “You must believe me, Rhys, when I say I wish it were unnecessary to do all this plotting, but I confess I enjoyed it.”
“I rather enjoyed it, too,” he replied easily, not taking offense.
Tanner glanced at Kenna. “You probably think us quite mad.”
Kenna smiled. “Quite,” she said, but there was no sting in her ready agreement. “It sounds as if it will work.”
“It will,” Rhys said confidently. “You know, Tanner, it was a good piece of luck that you showed up this morning.”
“Not luck. We heard rumors. Alex and I became concerned the moment you began making changes at Canning. We’ve been dealing with Roland’s allies too long not to suspect they wouldn’t do something like this.”
Alexis nodded, securing a tendril of gold hair behind her ear. “We were somewhat surprised by how quickly you discovered what your father was doing.”
“I hope you weren’t surprised that I decided to do something about it,” said Rhys.
Alexis was visibly shocked. “No! I like to think I am a good judge of character. Neither Tanner nor I thought you would do anything but what you did. Still, we did not think you would uncover your father’s dealings so quickly. You had barely taken command of the line.”
“As it happens I was not the one who learned how my father was trying to bankrupt you. Kenna made the discovery. If she had not taken the time to unravel the accounts I would still be without that knowledge.”
Kenna’s cheeks pinkened a bit under the thoughtful regard of Tanner and Alexis. She smoothed the folds of her dress in her lap to give her fingers something to do while her eyes appealed to Rhys.
“You’re too modest by half, Kenna,” Rhys said, taking one of her hands in his.
“Not so modest,” she argued, looking at him askance. “I thought I was splendid earlier, swinging that piece of lumber.”
Tanner and Alexis laughed as Rhys cleared his throat and tried to look stern. “That piece of work is going to be discussed at another time.”
“Before you two take up cudgels,” Alexis said, “there is a small matter I want to bring to your attention. Tanner and I will be entertaining some dear friends who will be visiting in two weeks. It’s been in the planning stages, off and on, for months, but I just received word that their arrival is definite. We’d like you to come to the ball we’re giving on Saturday of that week. It will give you an opportunity to meet some of the friends you didn’t know you had.”
Tanner smiled. “You can be certain Britt, or any of his cronies, is not on the guest list.”
“Not that you would recognize him anyway,” said Alexis. “It’s a masked affair. I want…What’s wrong?” Her face softened with concern as she saw Kenna pale.
“Nothing,” Kenna said quickly, too quickly to reassure any of the others. “A masque sounds wonderful. I know exactly the sort of costume I want to wear. I’ve had it in my mind for ages but the occasion never presented itself.” She laughed, hoping it did not sound as stilted to them as it did to her own ears. “Or rather, I could not present myself at the occasion.”
There was an awkward little silence following Kenna’s speech and she looked down at Rhys’s hand, squeezing hers with gentle strength. She knew what he was going to say before he said it. “Kenna’s father was murdered during a masqued ball,” he said quietly. “It was nearly a decade ago, but the memory is still painful. I hope you’ll understand why we regretfully decline your invitation.”
“Of course I understand,” said Alexis, her voice soft with sympathy for Kenna’s loss and pain. “But my plans are not set in stone. I can easily send word around that I’ve changed my mind and costumes will not be necessary.”
Kenna was more than a little touched that Alexis would change her plans simply to accommodate her, “Nonsense,” she said firmly. “Rhys and I will be there and we’ll feel terribly embarrassed if we’re the only ones in costume.” She turned to Rhys. “Really, it’s all right. I want to go.”
Rhys was skeptical but he did not show it. He looked at Alexis. “It appears we will accept the invitation—in costume—so don’t make any changes. I admit I fancy seeing my wife as Queen of the Nile.”
“Cleopatra!” exclaimed Alexis.
“You’ll be stunning,” Tanner said. “No shawls this time, Rhys.”
Kenna giggled as Rhys shifted uncomfortably. “May I ask what you’ll wear, Alex?”
“It only seem
s fair that I tell you, now that Rhys has given away your surprise. I’ve been giving some thought to a pirate’s garb.”
Kenna’s brows rose nearly to her hairline. “A pirate? Surely there are no women pirates.”
Rhys choked back his laughter. “And what of highwaymen?” he asked his wife.
Alexis did not understand the byplay between Rhys and Kenna but she saw that it had effectively banished the sad look from Kenna’s large eyes. “I know nothing of highwaymen,” she told Kenna, “but have you never heard of Anne Bonney? She sailed with Ned Teach.”
“More familiarly known as Blackbeard,” Tanner put it. “But, if I am not mistaken, I think Alex wishes to dress as another pirate of more recent fame. Am I right, Captain Danty?”
“You know you are,” she said with pleasure.
Rhys was thoughtful, rolling the name on his tongue to place it. “Danty. Isn’t he the fellow who was sinking British frigates even before war was declared?”
“The same,” said Tanner.
“I remember now,” Kenna said, snapping her fingers. “The London papers were full of his exploits. Most of it happened while you were in Portugal, Rhys. Danty’s dealing with the British Navy did not set well with the Admiralty. As I recall he boarded ships and took off sailors who claimed they were impressed into service.”
“It was no idle claim they made,” Alexis said. “They were impressed.”
“The London Gazette would beg to differ the point. Pirate was one of the kinder names they used for Danty. No one understood his motives. I think that is what troubled the Admiralty most. After taking the impressed men with him he allowed the other sailors to set out for shore before he sank the ships. No one was quite certain of his purpose. From the accounts of the surviving men it appeared Danty was seeking a particular man. Is that what you heard?”