Miss Ridgeway's Privateer (Regency Belles & Beaux Book 3) Page 10

  Lucy nodded. “Are you surprised?”

  He did not answer her, merely asked, “Who else knows of this?”

  “No one.”

  “That’s wise. Keep it like that.”

  “What happens now?”

  “I’ll call on the captain and give him the letter. Nothing further should happen but I suggest that you write to your grandmother at once and I’ll arrange to have it sent for you. The sooner you are out of Saint-Malo the better.”

  “You said I would not be at any risk.”

  “Not from the captain. He will ignore you and find his pleasures elsewhere but there are others here who might notice his indifference. If they draw the right conclusion, they could well try to press their attentions on you.”

  “Oh!”

  O’Rourke pulled the letter from his pocket and held it out to her.

  “Do you want to change your mind?”

  For a second Lucy hesitated then she put her hands behind her back and shook her head.

  “No. My mind is made up.” She thought she caught a gleam of admiration in his eyes. “Do you have any advice for me?”

  “Be careful. Don’t go out alone. Don’t stay in the taproom when there is other company present. If you go to a concert or a dance, remain in the background, for now at least. I’ll engage to discover what is happening and tell you. If you’re in any difficulty, send for me right away. All the servants here know where to find me and above all, make no mention of what has happened to anyone at all.”

  Once he had left her, Lucy retired to her room a little shaken. It would not be so easy after all. For a moment she considered running after him and retrieving her refusal but in the end she sat still and did nothing. Deciding that she had better stop thinking and do something to take her mind off the situation, she picked up her pen and started her letter to her grandmother. Again it was difficult for her to find the right words. Whoever would think that taking a ship from London to Ireland would result in her being a prisoner in France? She hoped that Lady Mary would understand that it was not her fault and would make every effort to rescue her.

  Later on that morning, O’Rourke returned and asked her to walk with him. She hurriedly found her outdoor clothes, pulling her pelisse closely against her for the wind was chill. Despite that, he once again led her onto the battlements and to a seat under one of the towers.

  “Nobody can overhear us.”

  “Did you give Captain Rollin my letter?” she asked and he nodded. “What did he say?”

  “He frowned for a moment as I translated it and then tossed it aside. Then he told me he wants to sail on tomorrow’s tide. A good way to draw a line under the affair as far as he is concerned.”

  “You are going with him?” O’Rourke nodded. “Oh dear!” Lucy could not help sounding disappointed. As he had once predicted, she had begun to think of him as a friend at least. Now he was going away and she would miss him. “How long will you be gone?”

  “It depends on what we find. Possibly a few days, no more than a sennight at the longest. The captain dislikes lengthy voyages. A short trip and a good profit is always his aim.”

  “Ships such as the White Hart?” Lucy asked.

  “Perhaps or an American. They sometimes carry richer cargo.”

  She stared at him. “You really are a thief aren’t you?”

  He shrugged. “One of many. Countries at war breed robbers like dogs breed fleas. Before you condemn us, remember that the English make excellent pirates, not that I’ll ever see half the riches of Francis Drake or Raleigh and his cronies.”

  “What will you do when the fighting ends?”

  “It’s been going on for twenty years, ever since I was a boy and there’s no sign of it ending soon. Time enough to think of other things when it does.”

  She looked away from him, out across the anchorage to where the Constanze floated, surrounded by small boats. He followed her gaze.

  “We’re loading stores. If this weather holds we’re sailing on the morning tide tomorrow. Is there anything I can do for you before I go?”

  Lucy pulled her letter from her pocket. “Send this to my grandmother for me?”

  He nodded. “Several fishermen carry cargo and messages between France and Ireland; for all that such trade is illegal in both countries. The ones we use are reliable.” He glanced at the address. “Your grandmother should receive it in the next few weeks with luck, then you can be on your way again. So remember what I told you. Say nothing and stay with other people. I’ll contact you as soon as I come back.”

  Lucy returned to the battlements to watch the Constanze weigh anchor and head out to sea. Another small ship accompanied her and their headsails made a brave show against the sky. Lucy had managed to persuade Mrs. Hardie to accompany her and see their old enemy leave.

  “Good riddance,” Mrs. Hardie said when the ship was a speck on the horizon. “About time they went. Now I can say to you what I want to say. You’re getting too friendly with that O’Rourke fellow. He’s handsome enough I grant you that. The captain and I are indebted to him for the care he’s given to our men. Ned Barnes and Harry have been singing his praises. Poor Tom, bless him was in no shape to say anything to anybody. In other circumstances, I would not say this, but he’s not a man whose name you want linked with your own. He’s an enemy, a traitor and a pirate. When he returns, keep your distance from him, if you know what’s good for you. No more of these walks he’s been taking you on. People are beginning to talk about the pair of you.”

  A little of Lucy’s old spirit returned at these words and she tossed her head. “Let them talk. I don’t care what a parcel of old gossips say. Mr. O’Rourke has done me no harm and he speaks English. Everybody else I’ve met is either old or French. I’d be bored out of my mind if I had no one my own age to talk to.”

  “Maybe but you wouldn’t like it if a rumour came to your grandmother’s ears. Unless she agrees to ransom you, you’re stuck here with the rest of us.”

  “How could she possibly hear about anything that I do here?”

  “Rumour and scandal are always talked about. I’m not telling you to make mischief, Lucy. You can’t be too careful in a place like this. Few people here have anything to do except gossip and some of them will go home before you do. People write and receive letters all the time. High time someone stopped you before something nasty happens.”

  “Nothing has happened,” Lucy replied. “Nothing is going to happen. I’m not that stupid.” And he hasn’t asked me, she thought.

  Mrs. Hardie nodded. “Keep it that way. Be more discreet in future and everything will be all right.”

  The next day was a Sunday and Lucy went with the Hardies to the Huguenot chapel where a service was held for all the Protestants in the town. They weren’t many of them for they did not fill the small space. Most were elderly, to Lucy’s eyes at least. A couple of ships’ captains like Captain Hardie, three or four merchants, two of their wives, several former passengers and Mr. Anselm. There was also a well-dressed young lad who seemed to be an officer’s son. Mr. Anselm conducted the service along with a portly gentleman who whispered his words so quietly that it was difficult to hear him. Lucy frankly did not try except to join in the prayers for the injured sailors and for Tom, who had died during the night.

  Lucy kept looking around the congregation with curiosity for she had met only a few people before this service. None of them seemed interesting. One of the women had that pinched peevish look that Lucy remembered from a teacher at her school. Another was pale and sickly. Lucy was glad that Mrs. Hardie was not that type of woman. Her robust good sense was occasionally annoying but she was likable and helpful.

  After the service, most of the congregation walked over to an inn, where a small luncheon had been set out. Lucy stayed with the Hardies and Mr. Anselm came over to join them. Lucy wished he had not, for he was full of complaints. He hated his quarters. He deplored the fact that he had to spend time in this country and mix with
the most unsavoury type of people.

  “… Like that man over there.” Lucy followed the direction of his gaze and saw a tall man with long dark hair. He was wearing a leather waistcoat and a velvet coat which must have been a very rich garment indeed when it was new. The man noticed her looking at him and made a small bow. Then he said something to one of his companions before she turned her face away.

  “Do you know him, Lucy?” Mrs. Hardie asked in surprise.

  “No, I have never seen him before.”

  “Then why did he bow to you?”

  “I don’t know. Who is he Mr. Anselm?”

  “Another pirate but not as grand as the one who captured us. His ship is a mean little thing.”

  “Which one is it?”

  “The Matou. It was pointed out to me by Mr. Bowen over there.” Mr. Anselm nodded towards a merchant who sat at a nearby table.

  The conversation turned to other things and Lucy forgot about the black-haired man until they were leaving. As they stood outside the tavern, making their goodbyes, he was suddenly beside her.

  “Good day to you,” he said in strongly accented English. “I am Georges Dupré master of the Matou.” He looked at Captain Hardie. “I have been told that you were the captain of the brig that Rollin brought in.” Captain Hardie nodded as Dupré continued, “It would be my pleasure if you would dine aboard my ship, yourself and these ladies.”

  “Very kind of you, Captain,” Captain Hardie grunted, “but we are engaged this evening.”

  “Tomorrow then.” Dupré laughed. “I’ll guarantee you a better dinner than even the good Suzette Arbez can produce.” Lucy could see that Captain Hardie was reluctant but he seemed unable to find an excuse, so he nodded and agreed,

  “Tomorrow then. We will look forward to it.”

  “Jimmy, how could you?” Mrs. Hardie exclaimed when Captain Dupré left. “I don’t want to go anywhere near that man, never mind dine with him.”

  “What would you like me to say to him? No, thanks, we don’t like you. We’re foreign prisoners in this town, my dear, and don’t need more enemies while we’re here. Find me an excuse that he’ll accept and I’ll use it.”

  “I don’t trust him; his eyes are too close together.”

  Captain Hardie laughed. “If that’s the best you can do, we’ll certainly eat on board his ship tomorrow.”

  Mr. Anselm, fresh from a walk, brought the news that Captain Rollin’s ship, the Constanze, was anchoring in the bay. “No doubt we’ll have that fellow O’Rourke back here before long.” He glowered over at Lucy, who dropped her head so he did not see her smile. It would be nice to talk to Patrick again. She had tried to chat to the young boy in the congregation yesterday, but his mother had swept him rapidly away, giving the feeblest of excuses. She doesn’t like me, Lucy thought. I wonder why.

  Sure enough, the noon meal was hardly over when O’Rourke strode into the tavern. He did not immediately come over to Lucy although he smiled at her. He spoke to Madame Arbez, making her laugh and dropped something into her hand. Then he came up to Mrs. Hardie and said,

  “Your letter has been passed to an English fishing boat which will carry it into Plymouth. With luck, it’s already on its way to London.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Yours has gone too, Miss Ridgeway. It should be in Cove by now.”

  “I’d like a word with you, Mr. O’Rourke if I may.” Captain Hardie got to his feet. “In private.”

  O’Rourke raised his eyebrows but said, “Of course, Captain.”

  They went out together but only the captain returned.

  “What did you say to him, Jimmy?” Mrs. Hardie immediately said.

  “Two things. Firstly I told him about Dupré’s invitation. Apparently he’s a bit of a scoundrel as we thought, but one of his crew is known to be a very good cook. I asked him if we should refuse his invitation but O’Rourke thought we had better not. Dupré knows that we are to be ransomed so he is unlikely to do us any harm and he’s a bad man to insult. Secondly I suggested that he refrain from walking out with Lucy.” Captain Hardie looked at her and Lucy felt herself going scarlet. “I told him that people were beginning to look askance at them and rumours are dangerous in her situation. He agreed, quite courteously for a scoundrel, and left.”

  “Oh, how could you!” Lucy jumped to her feet and, before anyone could stop her, ran out of the tavern. She reached the street but there was no sign of him and she did not dare search any further. Seething she returned to her room by the back stairs to avoid the Hardies. At that moment she knew she was quite capable of creating the kind of scene that would completely ruin her reputation over their abominable interference.

  Chapter Eleven

  Lucy was still annoyed that evening when she dressed for dinner. Temper had brought the colour to her cheeks and her eyes were suspiciously bright as she put on a white dress with a black sash and gloves. Mrs. Hardie was obviously expecting an apology but when it did not come, she spoke more sharply than usual. She ordered Lucy up to her room to tie a lace fichu around her neck. Lucy opened her mouth to say she would do no such thing but Mrs. Hardie’s words made her bite back the angry retort.

  “That dress is lovely but a little too revealing for dinner on board a pirate ship. Captain Dupré is a man; do you want to encourage his attentions? O’Rourke warned us not to look for trouble. If you won’t heed my words, heed his.”

  Remembering the urgency of O’Rourke’s warning, Lucy capitulated and did as she was told. She was not looking forward to the evening but, in the end, everything went well. The captain had invited other guests, including two English couples. The food was good and the conversation interesting. Lucy enjoyed herself. It was nice to be with other people especially when none of them treated her as if she were a child. She relaxed, laughing and chatting. From time to time, she noticed Captain Dupré’s eyes lingering on her but he did not single her out in any other way. If anyone had asked her later what she had talked about, she would not have been able to answer them. She was comfortable, prettily dressed and the evening passed in a pleasant blur. The only thing that in a small way marred her enjoyment was that O’Rourke was not present. Neither was Captain Rollin. If he had been, she would have pleaded a headache and retired early, so his absence was fortunate.

  Time dragged during the following week, for O’Rourke did not call at the inn. Lucy went about with Mrs. Hardie, visiting the sick, calling on the other English people, playing cards with them and chatting. She was rather shocked by the injured sailors. Mr. Barnes in particular was changed from the confident ruddy man she knew. He was white with deep lines of pain on his face. She found it difficult to find something to talk to him about and was glad when a nun came and told Mrs. Hardie they must leave the patients to rest.

  The main topic of conversation of all the prisoners in Saint-Malo was how soon they would receive a reply to their letters and be able to leave. This made visits to them tedious. Lucy was soon bored by the social round but it was better than staying alone in her room. She was pleased when Captain Hardie received another invitation to dine aboard the Matou. Mrs. Hardie wanted him to refuse on the grounds that she was in no position to reciprocate the hospitality but, to Lucy’s relief, Captain Hardie possessed no such scruples.

  “The man knows our situation and understands that we can’t pay him back. We’re hardly the first foreigners to be here. Don’t be silly, Annie.”

  “You just want a good dinner.”

  “He fed us well last time.”

  “He did, but why should he? That’s what has me puzzled.”

  “Our company?”

  Mrs. Hardie shook her head. “I doubt it. We aren’t famed for our conversation.”

  “You’re too suspicious. Whatever his reasons, we should accept. To refuse would be insulting and I won’t do it.”

  This second visit was slightly different. Fewer people had been invited, only Lucy, Captain and Mrs Hardie and a Scottish couple, Mr. and Mrs. McCree, whom
they met for the first time. The other places at the table were filled by the Matou’s mate and coxswain, neither of whom spoke much English and appeared tongue-tied in their company. Fortunately Mr. McCree was able to chat to them in French. The mate, a young Breton named Madec, seemed to be having a good time as the wine loosened his tongue but he rapidly became incomprehensible even to Mr. McCree. Captain Dupré talked to all his other guests. However, Lucy thought that he paid more attention to her than the others, asking her questions and making her laugh at some of his stories. She found him good company. There was a gleam of admiration in his eyes and she enjoyed being admired. She was rather sorry when the evening ended.

  The following day, Lucy was surprised to find a small package lying beside her plate at breakfast.

  “Whatever is this?” she picked it up.

  “A messenger brought it this morning,” Madame Arbez told her.

  “Who is it from?”

  “I never asked.” Lucy looked at her and thought her smile was a little too knowing.

  “Why don’t you open it?” Captain Hardie suggested.

  Lucy peeled back the wrapping and disclosed a small leather box. She undid the clasp and found a string of pearls nestling on the black velvet lining. Everybody gasped and the other people in the taproom gathered around to see what all the excitement was about.

  “Oh how lovely.” Lucy gave a crow of delight and picked up the necklace, holding it up to her neck and feeling its smoothness against her skin. She smiled around at everyone until she caught the frowning glance that Mrs. Hardie shared with her husband.

  “What is it? What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “May I see that please?” Captain Hardie held out his hand. Lucy was reluctant but she gave him the pearls. Captain Hardie examined them closely. Then he put them into the box and looked at her.

  “This is a valuable necklace. You can’t possibly keep it. You must send it back.”

  “How can I return it if I don’t know who sent it to me?” Lucy could feel herself shaking as she tried to prevent her annoyance from sounding in her voice.