A ripple of unease swept through the crew.Caleb watched them scatter, Keg muttering, Shorty slinking, Liam smirking, and Ayida, her lips curling in the faintest suggestion of a smile.
Alden raised accusatory brows.“Get up on the wrong side of the cot, Captain?”
He’d only allow such impertinence from his friend.And only because the man was right.Raking back his hair, Caleb glanced at Desi still standing behind him, a glimmer of fear in her eyes.“Perhaps I was a bit too harsh.Rot and Ruin, ’tis this town.”He glanced at the tiled roofs gleaming in the sun, the merchants and servants hurrying about, and the sailors unloading goods from a ship that had drifted in overnight.“I need to leave this infernal place as soon as possible.”
Alden gripped his shoulder.“And we will.God’s timing is perfect.”
Caleb blew out a sigh.“God has naught to do with this cursed island.Go,”—he gestured to the companionway—“get a few hours of sleep.I’ll send one of the crew to get more supplies.”
“Bonjour, mon amis!”The French voice knifed down Caleb’s back.Nay!He closed his eyes, praying he was hearing things.
“Bonjour, anyone on board?”
Against everything within him, Caleb approached the railing and glanced down.
And there he stood.Louise-Étienne de Montverre, the Marquis de Montverre, in all his silk and lace finery, complete with curled wig atop his head, despite the heat.Three servants stood behind him, fawning over his every word.
“Ah, there you are,mon ami!”he shouted up.“I heard you were in town.”His French accent had grown stronger.
“And so you find me, Monsieur.”Caleb crossed arms over his chest.“What may I do for you?”
“Do forme, my old friend?”He chuckled.“It is what I can do for you.I’ve come to extend an invitation for you and your officers to dine with me tonight at Montverre House.”
Caleb would rather boil in oil.Besides, why would the man take on the menial task of delivering an invitation that any servant could perform?“You honor me with your presence, Monsieur.Though seems beneath you.”
“Ah.You do me a great discredit,CapitaineHyde.For I am a man of the people.En fait, I didn’t want to give you the opportunity to reject my kind offer.”
Alden appeared beside him.“We should go.”
“Why?”Caleb spat out as Desi appeared on his other side.
“Ah, a lovely mademoiselle.Do bring her along,” Montverre shouted.
“To find out what he wants,” Alden answered.“To put this nightmare to rest.Perhaps ’tis why God brought us here.”
Caleb clenched his jaw.If God brought him here, ’twas naught but a cruel joke.
The marquis waved a jeweled hand through the air, the lace at his cuffs fluttering in the breeze.“Shall we say seven?I’ll see you then.”And without awaiting an answer, he strode down the docks as if he owned them—perhaps he did—and leapt into his gilded carriage.His servants jumped onto the sides and clung to the bars as the vehicle took off down the street, drawing the attention of all.
“Who was that man?”Desi asked.
“The Marquis de Montverre,” Caleb said, his gut tightening.“By all accounts, he runs this island.”
“I’d be careful o’ the man,” Ayida’s creole accent startled Caleb.He’d not seen her approach.
“I quite agree.”
“Ders someden dark ‘bout him, someden cursed.”
“He’s the governor, then?”Desi asked.
“Nay, but he controls the governor, the militia, and the council.”
Alden snorted.“With wealth comes power, and he has plenty of both.”
A breeze tossed Desi’s hair behind her as she gazed at him curiously.“How does he know you?”
Caleb ground his teeth.“A long story.But for now, I do believe we will accept his invitation.”Though it pained him to say so.Yet he did have unfinished business with the marquis.Unpleasant business.
