X.
Luciana's ship isn't there when the Good Hope makes port at Ponta Delgada. "They're coming," she tells James, the both of them knowing the Isabella sailing from Oporto ought to have arrived more than a week before.
"They are coming," she repeats two days later when James finds her on one of the bastions overlooking the harbour, brass telescope in hand as she watches the ships coming into port.
He comes to stand beside her and gazes down at the sunlight scattering off of blue-green waves, before tarred hulls break them into foam. "You've witnessed a test of my men's loyalty," he grunts. "Now I'll stand witness to yours."
Luciana lowers the telescope and shoots him a hard, sidelong glance. "Fighting the French for more than six years cost us almost everything, Mr Delaney. Were it not for Bonaparte, we'd have crushed the rebellion in the colonies. My men will follow me because they want to take back what is ours."
"They follow you because you've promised them Aztec gold. If the gold does not reveal itself, will the Spanish among your company be so willing to place Nuevos Dominios into Portuguese hands?"
"I am both Portuguese and Spanish. The arrangement is agreeable."
"Not to the rebels."
Annoyed, Luciana clenches her jaw and returns her attention to the harbour. "What about you, James?" she asks, adjusting the focus on the spyglass. "What will you do if you make landfall in Nootka Sound only to find that in your absence, someone else has already laid claim?"
"I'll claim it back."
"With what army?"
"I won't need an army."
That drops her gaze from the spyglass again. Her eyes narrow. "You will not buy my men from me, James. Nor bribe them."
"Indeed, that would be quite the feat when they are not even here."
She glares, but he continues.
"If they have not arrived by the time my business in Ponta Delgada concludes, I will sail without you. Unless you are prepared to accept the invitation of a place on my ship. On my terms."
"No need," Luciana says coldly. She thrusts the telescope at his chest and jerks her head towards the sea, where the silhouette of a tall frigate has breached the horizon. "They're here."