Or had her own spinsterish ways simply deepened her appreciation of him?
Restlessness churned like a current inside her. She felt on the cusp of something new, though she knew not what. Surely it wasn’t in the form of a privateer with a questionable reputation.
Lord, what is it You have for me beyond the almshouse and chocolate shop?
CHAPTER
twenty
Henri’s most trusted men, recently returned from shore leave, sat before him in a semicircle at the ordinary’s corner table. Despite Hermes’s screeching and Mistress Saltonstall’s robust chatter with a patron in the open doorway, he wasted no time telling them the latest turn of events.
“I have a recent communication from the frontier, sent by Colonel Washington to Governor Dinwiddie.” Henri took out the letter given him, a sad testament to how the frontier fight with the French and Indians was faring, at least at the time the letter was penned. He held the letter aloft as he read, “‘Regular troops exposed all those who were inclined to do their duty to almost certain death; and at length, in despite of every effort to the contrary, broke and ran as sheep before hounds, leaving the artillery, ammunition, provision, baggage, and in short everything a prey to the enemy, and when we endeavored to rally them in hopes of regaining the ground and what we had left upon it, it was with as little success as if we had attempted to have stopped the wild beasts of the mountains.’”
“Colonel Washington is referring to British regulars,” Southack said with thinly veiled disgust. “Not Virginians.”
“Aye, the king’s army,” Henri said. He read on in confirmation. “‘The Virginia companies behaved like men and died like soldiers.’”
“And Braddock, the white-wigged general, was buried overmountain in an unmarked grave, so I heard.” Udo shook his dark head. “Is this not Washington’s third attempt to rout the French and take Fort Duquesne?”
“Aye.” Henri nodded and folded the letter, noting the broken black seal. “And now the French general Montcalm is said to be on his way here.”
“Which led to much ado in Williamsburg with the governor’s council,” Tarbonde surmised, his astute gaze holding Henri’s own. “Have you made your decision, sir?”
“Nay.”
Henri’s reticence had them all studying him keenly. He was not one to dally. He could read their thoughts. And with a new French commander on the way...
He leaned back in his chair till it groaned. “If you were in my place, what would your decision be?”
A weighty pause. Rarely did he turn the question round. It seemed to stymie them.
“With Britain hurtling toward war with France and not just fighting Indians on the frontier, our involvement by sea seems critical,” Southack finally said. “But just what is our stake in this?”
“We’d be issued a letter of marque and reprisal from the colonial government authorizing us to target French ships, capture them, and plunder them. We’d set sail in a newly commissioned vessel.” He paused, noting their surprise. “We’d fly foreign flags, including French flags as decoys, if needs be.”
“And the prizes?” they asked in unison.
“Delivered in part to the admiralty court in Philadelphia. Our share would be fifty percent of all prizes.” Henri tapped the letter, thinking again of Braddock. “And one hundred percent of the danger.”
“A risky endeavor.” Ned expelled a breath, always the last to speak. His perspective as sea chaplain usually differed from the others’. “Though no doubt of great benefit to the colonial cause.”
Henri nodded, no nearer his decision than he’d been when he’d first heard of the secret foray against the French at the governor’s palace. Was that not in itself his answer? Yet when had he shied away from danger or aiding the British colonies?
“And if you say nay?” Ned questioned, folding his hands atop the edge of the table as if he were about to pray.
“If I—we—decline, other ships and crews will bear the commission,” Henri stated matter-of-factly.
Southack grimaced. “And take both prizes and credit.”
“Virginia’s governor desires us at the helm,” Henri said. Not only Virginia’s governor but other colonial authorities as well. He stopped short of revealing anything vainglorious, further tempting them toward a very hazardous cruise.
“You cannot possibly be content to stay on Indigo Island with so dire a threat. Nor sail away on other business.” Tarbonde studied him as if seeing him in a new light. “’Twould be a dereliction of duty.”
“You could also further establish your reputation as one of privateer and not pirate as the naysayers have painted you,” Southack said.
“What would be done with captives?” Udo queried when Henri made no reply. “You are known far and wide for fair treatment, but with the French declared our enemies...”
“They’d likely be used in prisoner exchanges or as leverage in treaties. Transported to prison ships.” That alone gave Henri pause. There was no worse fate.
