‘Why doesn’t the bastard just surrender?’ muttered the First Lieutenant, Nicholas Sinclair as he stared through the telescope at the fleeing French frigate, now a mere one hundred yards away from the pursuingPhoenix.
‘Is that a rhetorical question, Sir, or are you truly expecting an answer?’ Second Lieutenant Christian Stanhope grinned at the irritated glance Sinclair tossed him.
‘It’s two o’clock in the bloody morning, Mr. Stanhope. Far too early for jingle-brained comments.’
‘Do you think she could be carrying something the captain wishes to keep hidden?’
‘That’s my guess. Her captain must know by now he can’t outrun us. If he had any care for his crew, he’d raise the flag. The fact that he’s still running…’ Lieutenant Sinclair shrugged and sighed. ‘I estimate we’ll be alongside by eight bells. I’ll wake the Captain at six bells. Give Mr. Barnet and Mr. Witherspoon a shake. About time they got their lazy arses out of their hammocks.’
Christian Stanhope grinned again. ‘Aye, Sir.’ Saluting quickly, he made his way down towards the lower deck, thinking about the First Lieutenant’s comments. There could be serious prize money aboard theSensible. The Knights of St. John of Jerusalem, the military arm of the Catholic Church in command of the island of Malta were rumoured to be in possession of vast riches. Mayhap the fleeing frigate had been charged with transporting the looted treasure to France. If so, it would certainly sweeten the pot as far as Barnet was concerned, especially since the Third Lieutenant hadn’t stopped grumbling since they’d taken up pursuit of the French frigate.
Ducking his head as he entered the lower deck, he weaved his way between snoring sailors until he reached his destination, wasting no time before giving both men an unceremonious shake. ‘Blast and bugger your eyes,’ Witherspoon muttered, pulling his blanket over his head. ‘It ain’t our watch yet.’
‘First Lieutenant wants you both up top,’ declared Stanhope without sympathy. ‘We’re closing in on theSensible.’
Groaning, Barnet rolled himself out of the hammock. ‘Get yer arse out o’ bed, Withers,’ he ordered, slapping the other man’s exposed buttocks, ‘you aint goin’ to want to be caught with yer britches round yer ankles when we’re knee deep in bloody Froggies.’
‘Sinclair reckons theSensiblecould well be carrying treasure from Malta,’ Stanhope whispered slyly in the Fourth Lieutenant’s ear.
‘The likes of us ain’t goin’ ter get a look in,’ Witherspoon griped. Nevertheless, he rolled out of his hammock, landing on his stocking feet with a grimace.
‘There’ll be prize money though,’ Christian Stanhope reasoned. ‘Sinclair’s a stickler for fairness, and he’s got the ear of the Captain.’
‘Don’t mean to say there’ll be nothin’ smoky about the whole bloody business,’ the Third Lieutenant grumbled, shoving sore feet into his clogs.
‘There’s always somethin’ smoky goin’ on when it comes to bloody prize money. You know that, Barnet. But I can tell yer now, I ain’t hangin’ back. If I get half a chance, I intend to grab me some of that bloody loot,’ Witherspoon vowed.
‘Aye, and you’ll swing if you get caught,’ Barnet scoffed as they followed the Second Lieutenant back towards the upper deck. ‘And all the bloody gold in the world ain’t worth shit down in Davy Jones’s locker.’
∞∞∞
Present day
The last time Chastity listened to her brother-in-law ring a peal over someone was comfortably through a closed door. On that occasion, she and her twin had thought it actually quite amusing. She was beginning to discover that it was an entirely different matter when one happened to be on the receiving end of the reprimand. Especially as this was the second time in a week.
In the past, Chastity had dealt perfectly well with her eldest sister’s husband. That is to say she had very little to do with him at all. Throughout most of her childhood, he’d been a distant but stern figure to whom everyone in the Shackleford family turned when they were in a hobble.
Well it was certain she was in a hobble now. And listening to Nicholas reveal the true extent of that hobble, her heart actually went out to him. Oh how he must rue the day he married Grace. He could not have anticipated he would be taking responsibility for her whole totty-headed family. And here she was, the latest in a long line of irresponsible females to carelessly tie their garter in public, secure in their blithe expectation that the Duke of Blackmore was there to pick up the pieces.
And the fact that Nicholas rarely raised his voice somehow made it all the worse. Out of the corner of her eye, Chastity saw her father swallow a full snifter of brandy, even though it was only eight in the morning. She couldn’t see Grace but could imagine her sister’s face exactly.
Abruptly, she became aware that Nicholas had finished speaking and was now looking at her expectantly. Which was unfortunate as she had no idea what he’d said after, ‘Your recklessness beggars belief.’ She stared blankly at him.
‘Tare an’ hounds, Chastity,’ her father exploded. ‘If you had to go and make a deuced cake of yourself, couldn’t you at least have chosen a gentleman with a guaranteed income of ten thousand a year who wasn’t suspected of murder?’
‘I…’ Chastity started, only to be interrupted by Grace.
‘It’s no good losing your temper, Father, andwhat ifsserve no useful purpose.’ Her voice was brisk and businesslike as she continued, ‘Chastity dearest, as I see it, we have two possible options.’ She paused, obviously waiting to ensure she had her younger sister’s full attention. Inexplicably, Chastity felt her eyes well up at the term of endearment. At the very least, it showed that Grace had forgiven her foolishness.
‘We can petition Christian Stanhope and hope he will do the right thing by offering for you.’ She paused and winced before adding, ‘Unfortunately, as it was you who propositionedhim, he is not honour bound to do anything at all…’ She glanced at her husband who nodded at her to continue, his face carefully impassive.
‘And from what we know of the Earl, honour does not appear to be one of his finer qualities, so there is no guarantee he will step up. And indeed, I think everyone in this room would have mixed feelings if he did so.’ She sighed and picked up her tea. ‘The second option is that you return to Blackmore. Mayhap we will be able to find a local gentleman to your liking. One who has no interests in the idiosyncrasies of polite society.’ Her voice turned derogatory as she saidpolite society, making it abundantly clear her private opinion of the ruling classes.
Chastity felt her throat tighten as she fought back tears. ‘What wouldyouhave me do?’ she asked Nicholas in a choked whisper.
The Duke closed his eyes momentarily, and when he opened them, his expression was no longer emotionless. In fact, the sympathy in his eyes was the final straw, and she made no move to stem the tears trickling down her face. ‘I have made no bones about my feelings towards Christian Stanhope,’ he said wearily, ‘and as things stand, I cannot be happy entrusting him with your care. If he offers for you, and you go through with the marriage, I will be unable to intervene unless he hurts you … physically, that is.
‘I do not trust him. That said, it is ultimately up to you whether we appeal to his goodwill–if he has any.’ He paused and grimaced before saying carefully, ‘There is a third option. I have been approached by Edmund Fitzroy - Viscount Trebworthy, who it appears is very smitten with you.
