Nova glared up threateningly at Lord Pennington. He might have been very
used to getting his way, but then again, so was Nova. The fact that one of
her favorite friends was involved did nothing but harden her resolve.
"So you're saying you can get into the Devil's Keep," an obviously interested Pennington questioned, "and you can bring out whatever is in there?"
"I'm telling you that I can get in. Whether I can get out or not is another issue entirely."
Pennington stared at the small woman. He did not want to deal with a woman, but he didn't seem to have a choice.
"It's me or no one," Nova said unconcernedly, "it just depends how much you want that treasure."
And how much you think your son is worth, Nova added to herself.
Pennington pondered for a moment then leaned over the table.
"The terms are such. You and whatever crew you need get me that treasure. If you don't bring it to me, Will Turner will be hanged. Succeed and we will consider all penalty void from him."
"He's coming with me," Nova said blandly, "or there's no deal."
"Never," Pennington sputtered, "there is nothing to say the minute we turn him loose that he won't run."
"You forget the woman he killed for," Nova said coyly, twisting a ring on her finger around, "he's not going to run because she's still here."
"Who's to say she won't run with him?"
Nova looked Pennington straight in the eye.
"Then you send insurance," she said.
Pennington reared back and thought a moment.
"My son," he said, "if Will Turner is going, so is my oldest son. He will report any and everything that happens aboard your ship."
"Agreed," Nova said with a nod, "granted he understands that some of my men are going to be less than forthcoming about their employment or loyalties."
Pennington nodded.
"Drake will do as I tell him," he said, "he is merely along to insure that things go according to plan."
"And he will stay out of me and my captain's way," Nova said with a hint of a threat.
"He'll do as he's told," Pennington assured.
With a decisive motion, Pennington rang a bell. Shortly a young man of about twenty-five stood in the doorway.
"Father?" he questioned.
"You will be accompanying Miss St. Cyr and her crew on a mission," Pennington said.
A spark seemed to pass through Drake Pennington's icy blue eyes, but he said nothing and bowed shortly, turning on his heel and leaving the room.
"Then we have an accord, Lord Pennington," Nova said, standing to leave.
She raised an eyebrow at the shadowy figure of the oldest Pennington heir standing in the archway as she left.
"You might have more trouble keeping young Drake under control than you think, Your Grace," Nova muttered to herself.
"So you're saying you can get into the Devil's Keep," an obviously interested Pennington questioned, "and you can bring out whatever is in there?"
"I'm telling you that I can get in. Whether I can get out or not is another issue entirely."
Pennington stared at the small woman. He did not want to deal with a woman, but he didn't seem to have a choice.
"It's me or no one," Nova said unconcernedly, "it just depends how much you want that treasure."
And how much you think your son is worth, Nova added to herself.
Pennington pondered for a moment then leaned over the table.
"The terms are such. You and whatever crew you need get me that treasure. If you don't bring it to me, Will Turner will be hanged. Succeed and we will consider all penalty void from him."
"He's coming with me," Nova said blandly, "or there's no deal."
"Never," Pennington sputtered, "there is nothing to say the minute we turn him loose that he won't run."
"You forget the woman he killed for," Nova said coyly, twisting a ring on her finger around, "he's not going to run because she's still here."
"Who's to say she won't run with him?"
Nova looked Pennington straight in the eye.
"Then you send insurance," she said.
Pennington reared back and thought a moment.
"My son," he said, "if Will Turner is going, so is my oldest son. He will report any and everything that happens aboard your ship."
"Agreed," Nova said with a nod, "granted he understands that some of my men are going to be less than forthcoming about their employment or loyalties."
Pennington nodded.
"Drake will do as I tell him," he said, "he is merely along to insure that things go according to plan."
"And he will stay out of me and my captain's way," Nova said with a hint of a threat.
"He'll do as he's told," Pennington assured.
With a decisive motion, Pennington rang a bell. Shortly a young man of about twenty-five stood in the doorway.
"Father?" he questioned.
"You will be accompanying Miss St. Cyr and her crew on a mission," Pennington said.
A spark seemed to pass through Drake Pennington's icy blue eyes, but he said nothing and bowed shortly, turning on his heel and leaving the room.
"Then we have an accord, Lord Pennington," Nova said, standing to leave.
She raised an eyebrow at the shadowy figure of the oldest Pennington heir standing in the archway as she left.
"You might have more trouble keeping young Drake under control than you think, Your Grace," Nova muttered to herself.