And Cameron always cheated to make sure she wasn’t the one left with it. Something that would bother her conscience a lot more but for the fact that it was Lettice’s father who owned the Swan, and while Nathaniel Harrison would guard his daughter’s reputation and well-being, he wasn’t nearly as circumspect when it came to hers. Especially when placed against his need for profit. He’d sell all but his daughter for that.
Even his own mother, and probably his wife to boot.
Not wanting to think about that, Cameron scowled at the men flanking the newcomer. His companions were much more the typical pirate or privateer fare one would expect to find in such a sordid place. The one to his right had a mane of long brown hair he wore tied back in an impeccable queue, along with a well-trimmed beard, and eyes so light and merry a blue they glowed in the dim light. Each of that man’s fingers held an ornate ring—no doubt plunder from some unwary ship he’d raided—if not some unfortunate corpse. Still, he seemed amicable enough.
While many Caribbean pirates had a tendency to pierce their earlobes, this one had chosen to place a small gold hoop in his left eyebrow, just off its arch. His elaborate burgundy and black coat was widely cut at the waist—in the latest fashion craze. And where the beguiling and dangerous captain had chosen a plain black neckerchief to wear, this pirate’s cravat was stark white silk, and trimmed in layers of decadent lace.
The man on the left was dressed in a peacock blue silk coat that covered an insanely ornate gold waistcoat. One so fine a silk that it shimmered in the light like water. He wore a small white wig that concealed his hair color, but judging from his skin tone, dark eyebrows, and the careless whiskers that dusted his well-sculpted cheeks and jawline, she assumed his hair was as dark as his captain’s. Yet where the captain had a set of coal black eyes, his were a deep shade of hazel blue.
While his mood and countenance weren’t as dark and sinister as his captain’s, he was nowhere near as jovial as their companion, either. She’d guess him as the quartermaster.
Or a hangman.
The three of them swept past her without so much as a glance in her general direction, letting her know they saw her as no threat whatsoever—which was fine by her. Last thing she wanted was to be crossed up with such terrifying and deadly men.
They made their way to the back of the tavern to an empty table. The large, burly guard who’d been keeping it reserved for them inclined his head, then went to fetch their drinks.
Something he returned with so quickly that it no doubt set a speed record for the inn. From her years of working in such an establishment, she knew it said much about his fear of angering the three newcomers, and even more about their temperaments and personalities. These men did not like to be kept waiting, nor did they want to be interrupted once settled.
For the first time, Cameron’s courage faltered as she watched the men begin a private and intense whispered conversation.
What are you doing, Cam?
This was what she’d come for—to speak to Captain Devyl Bane and enlist his aid.
Maybe it’s not him.
She knew better. He was just as he’d been described. Darker than sin and more dangerous than dancing with the devil’s favored handmaiden. There was no one else it could be. The witch-woman had told her to look for a captain who’d take her breath and leave no doubt in her mind that he was the bane of the devil himself.
That definitely described the man in the center of the other two.
No one could be deadlier or more sinister.
“Greetings, governor. You be wanting some company, like?”
Cameron winced as an attractive prostitute plunked herself down on her lap. Because Cameron was dressed as a man and passing herself off as one so that she could travel unmolested and with ease, the prostitute had no idea she was wasting her time there.
Grinding her teeth, Cameron caught the woman’s hand before it drifted to a part of her body that would scandalize them both. Cameron shook her head sharply.
“What? You mute?” She reached to touch Cameron’s face and smiled wide. “That’s all right, love. Don’t be needing no words for what I do best, no ways. Fact is you be getting more your money’s worth if’n we don’t be speaking no how.”
Cameron caught the woman’s wrist again and reminded herself to toughen her voice and lower it an octave. “Not interested, me sweet. You’re not me type.” She cast her gaze meaningfully toward the three men.
The prostitute laughed. “Ah … can’t says I blame you there. They each be so fine you can’t help but crave a bite of those backsides and pray for lockjaw.” With another winsome smile, she sighed. “Best of luck to you, mate. Way I hear tell it, though, you don’t got a chance with none of them.”
And with that, she left Cameron’s lap to pursue another, more probable client.
Taking a deep breath, Cameron debated the sanity of seeing this mission through. It was obvious that the three men had no desire to be approached by a stranger.
In fact, they appeared to be arguing.
Heatedly.
This is all kinds of insanity.…
But Cameron Jack was not a coward.
Maybe a little?
