“The rogue,” said Jarvis. A murderous expression disfigured his face. “The evidence of the rest of his activities states he’s no different than any other pirate who embarks on orgies of rape, torture and plunder.”
The women at the table gasped.
“I’ll remind you, Sir Jarvis. There are ladies present,” warned the Governor.
“Everything Captain Smith said is true,” said Lady Morton. “We were invited to take our dinner with the Black Devil. His cabin is amazing and richly appointed. He has a fine cook that would rival the best in Europe.”
“His splendid wit made the evening pass with amusement,” concurred Jane.
Jarvis thumped his fist on the table, using his innate sense of drama to call attention to himself. “I’d still like to know how he got off this island.” He glared at Claire. “Gold exchanged hands somewhere.”
Claire sat nonplussed. “Although I do not condone piracy, he saved us that horrid night a year ago. If I had the gold, I would have given it to him.” Claire wanted to bite her tongue championing, Devon. Her uncle infuriated her. Jarvis’s investigation into the escape of his slaves stood based on presumption and he held onto his vindictive memory like a shark with prey meshed in its jaws. The fact that Devon had come to her rescue the night of the Spanish raid at peril to his escape and freedom was selfless. She had seen his compassion in his practice as a physician. Yet everything she had heard about Devon in the last year seemed at odds with what she had known about him.
“He was a slippery fellow. Seemed to be everywhere that night,” Jarvis maintained. “The rascal burned down a huge chunk of my plantation.”
“The Spanish torched the plantation,” Claire reminded him.
“The man is like his reputation,” Governor Stark snapped his fingers for emphasis. “He can disappear like a wraith through thin air.”
“I for one discount this nonsense. Everyone in the Caribbean is talking,” Jarvis grumbled.
“And why not?” said Captain Smith. “His exploits are legendary. Doesn’t his fame run like ripples before the breeze across the Caribbean Sea? All the heads of Europe are betwixt and between about his activities, yet underneath there is secret admiration.”
“Bah! What about that French pirate? Jarvis snarled. “Is not Le Trompeur the curse of the Caribbean, the greatest scoundrel among the Brethren of the Coast? Is he not the deadliest with the sword, trained under French masters? I’d pay good gold to see the Frenchman plant his sword tip through Blackmon’s heart. As for myself, the gibbet is high and hungry. I would love to see the Black Devil dance as he hangs.”
“I doubt that will occur,” said Governor Stark. “Blackmon and Le Trompeur belong to the brotherhood, a pact between the two rascals, agreeing to back each other up. A very powerful alliance. The governor from Tortuga gives his rubber stamp on their union.”
“And the Governor of Tortuga is as much a pirate as those blackguards, giving them safe-haven in his private Sodom and Gomorrah,” spat Jarvis.
Jane put her nose in the air. “I can say, Sir Jarvis, Captain Blackmon’s code of conduct was nothing but benevolent and gracious. He saved our lives and treated us with dignity and respect. For that we are grateful.”
“He was so handsome and romantic. He gave us back our jewels, saying we were too pretty to be without them,” Grace sighed.
Claire dropped her teacup. “Of course, I am sure he woos every woman when given the chance.” She was not surprised by the silver-tongued devil’s flattery. Had she not been a recipient of his fawning as well?
Lady Morton slanted her eyes to Claire. “Do you know of him perchance?”
Governor Stark laughed. “She owned him.”
Claire’s heart sank. All three women and Captain Smith turned to her, their eyebrows raised. Heat rose to her face. “I-I took pity on him when I saw him auctioned on the dock and because−he was at odds with my uncle that day, I decided to intervene.”
“Praise providence. For if you had not done that, our fate would have been dire,” said Lady Morton.
Claire glanced at Jarvis who stewed with hatred of his escaped slave.
“I understand the Black Devil thanks his victims for their contributions,” commented Mary. “Very polite. A gentleman pirate they say.”
“It is true. Women swoon at his name. He thanked me for my ship’s contents,” said Captain Smith.
“The thieving dog.” Jarvis turned on the captain. “Are you sure your adulation of this miscreant is not misplaced?”
“Since my life and the lives of the ladies and my crew had been saved from those Spanish devils, I consider myself ahead,” said Captain Smith, undeterred. “From what I have learned when the Black Devil captures a ship, he takes its contents. If there are Englishmen aboard, they’ll be put upon an island where they’ll be picked up by English ships. Women at risk are dropped off at a port. I should mention these same Spanish pirates that attacked us hit an English merchantman six months ago. All the men but one survived to tell the tale. Three women who had the misfortune of being aboard suffered a brutality I cannot describe. They died.”
“Mother of God.” Lady Morton crossed herself.
“What I find most remarkable about Captain Blackmon,” continued Captain Smith “is that he has numerous experienced seamen on board. Many had served on Men-O-War as well as merchant ships. I had an interesting conversation with his navigator.”
“His navigator?” Lily asked. “Was his name Robert Ames?”
