Disclaimer: Still don't own em. Except for the Paul Henreid clones. They're part of my closet 'o men, which is beginning to get a little crowded…hee.
It was unusually quiet back aboard the ship—Kat suspected it was because most of the sailors were out drinking and dancing. She was perched on the end of the bed in Laurent's cabin, scrubbing at her face with a handkerchief, and glaring at the handsome man the whole time. She was furious; not only for the trick he'd played on her—though it had done little more than injure her pride—but also for the way he'd referred to her as a bargaining piece. Her anger eclipsed her sense, or she might have admitted to herself that he had every right to do so, as she was his prisoner. But she fed the smoldering flames within her, taking comfort in their familiar heat. Without her temper she would be nothing more than a very confused high-born lady—perhaps with more sense and skill than most, but little more than a decoration. And that was the very last thing she wanted to be, especially around him.
"Now, Katarina," he said consolingly, watching her struggle with the soot. "It was a good joke."
She snorted. "It was supposed to be a duel."
"And so it was—in its own way."
Kat threw down the handkerchief. "Where I come from, Señor, no one interferes in a duel of honor," she said sharply.
Laurent blinked. "Where I come from, ladies do not usually ask to fire pistols at one another. How was I to know that you could shoot? That's not a normal lesson for a noblewoman—at least, not in my experience."
Kat sighed. "I did tell you. I made one of the guards in the barracks teach me when I was twelve. I know how to throw a knife, as well. My family never knew it. There are quite a few things they didn't know about what I did." She managed a small smile. "Not all ladies are helpless dolls, you know."
He made a sweeping bow. "My apologies, Contessa."
She thought for a moment, then went to the water pitcher and rinsed the rest of the soot off her face. As she dried it, she said, "That woman…Anne Bonnie. You put the soot in the pistols to protect her, too."
When she looked around, she saw that his face was serious. "Anne Bonnie is my dearest friend. She was all I had when I first came here, and I would give my life for her."
Kat raised her eyebrows as she took a seat on the bunk. "And what about that nightgown? I assume that's what she was looking for."
Laurent smiled. "It is something of a tradition with us, you see."
Kat nodded, then rested her chin on a hand. "I want to ask you something," she said, suddenly more serious. "When you were speaking, you mentioned using me to bring out the Viceroy—Alvarado. Is that the reason that you keep me here, instead of ransoming me?"
The smile on his face disappeared. "It is true that I am using you to draw Alvarado out. Perhaps I keep you here for another reason as well…perhaps because you do not wish to return to your family, or the Viceroy."
She thought about it for a few moments. "Then you are a rare man, and I suppose I should be grateful to you for helping me," she finally said. "But it will take a long time. And my family…they may send people to search for me before that man does." Kat studied Laurent's face. "Can you not revenge yourself on him in some other way? And…why do you wish revenge on him?"
Laurent's mouth tightened into a thin line. "Years ago, I was a peaceful voyager. I was the captain of a ship bound for the Carolinas, with provisions and grants to start a new colony. We were caught in a fierce storm, and our ship was blown off course. It landed in Cartagena. When I went before the Viceroy to plead our cause, he declared that my men were to be sold into slavery in the Spanish colonies. He destroyed my ship's papers in front of me—the very grants that gave us rights to settle." Even now, his face betrayed to Kat a rage that she'd never seen before in a man. "With luck, I escaped from his prison and started a new crew—only this time, it was dedicated to destroying him. That was my oath, and I have held to it ever since. You are one more way that I can strike at him; that is why you are here."
Kat pulled her knees up to her chest, hugging them; it was her way of sitting when she had something very serious to consider. There was silence in the cabin for a while, broken only by the creaking of timbers and the rigging outside. Finally, Kat spoke. "I could help you," she said.
Laurent's eyebrows went up. "You speak of betrayal of the very people that you once belonged to. What reason would you ever have for fighting against the Viceroy?"
Kat stood, her anger beginning to rise once more. "Have I not told you that I hate the nobility? I don't want to marry Alvarado. And if something isn't done about him, he will send ships and soldiers to find me. That is what my family would want, and he will do it, if his pride is as great as you tell me."
Laurent left his seat and walked up to her, resting his hands on her shoulders. "I believe I do understand. So. How would you help me?"
She looked up into his face. "If I am delivered to him, perhaps for a ransom fee, I could be your…your contact in the palace. I don't know who would bring me, but once I was there, I would find a way to get you to the Viceroy—and then you could do what you wanted. If he's truly as cruel as you've told me, I have no doubt that he deserves whatever retribution you have in store."
"How do I know I can trust you?" Laurent asked softly, searching her face with his beautiful eyes. There was something in them, something she couldn't put a name to…
She met his gaze levelly. "I can only give you my word that I will do what I say, Señor, for whatever worth my word has to you." Her eyes flicked downward, and she went on. "I am a disgrace to my family, because I hid on the ship and ran away, and they will never take me back. No matter what I do now, I cannot return—and if that is so, I want to do something worthwhile with my freedom. I did not pay so high a price for nothing."
He put a hand under her chin and lifted it until she looked into his eyes. "There is no disgrace in wanting a life of your own," he said softly. "And you have paid a great price for it. I admire you, my dear. I admire your fortitude, and how you stood your ground at the Sea Turtle tonight. And I believe that you will keep your word."
Against her will, Kat's eyes began to fill with tears of gratitude. "Thank you, Laurent," she whispered.
He smiled at her, and was about to say something—but suddenly, there was a commotion on deck. The door to the cabin burst open, and several rough men burst in and seized Laurent; he kicked and tried to reach around to punch them, but they had a good hold on his arms. They thrust a gag into his mouth and were tying his hands when another person appeared at the door.
It was none other than Anne Bonnie.
"Careful, you scum!" she yelled at the men holding Laurent. She was brandishing a pistol, and pointed it at Kat's stomach before she could move to do anything. Kat, through her shock, noticed with satisfaction that the woman wore a black eye from their meeting in the tavern. "And you, Dutchman!" Bonnie said to Laurent. "Say goodbye to your wench. She's off to Cartagena on the turn of the tide." Kat eyes widened at this proclamation, and she moved as if to attack Bonnie, but the pistol stopped her. She could do nothing but watch as the two men carried Laurent bodily out onto the deck. Anne Bonnie followed them, herding Kat ahead of her.
"I was beginning to think the Spanish witch had a spell on you," she said to Laurent. "But no more of that! I'm taking charge of your ship—and you're staying here in Tortuga, whether you want to or not! Take him ashore!" she ordered her men.
The pirates dragged Laurent across the deck and handed him over the rail into a waiting boat. "We'll fire a cannon when we've cleared the harbor!" Anne Bonnie yelled to them; only then did Kat notice that the Barracuda was filled with unfamiliar faces, all quickly readying the ship to sail. "Then cut him loose and run for it!"
"Shove off!" the pirates in the boat called. Then another shout came from the deck. "Anchor's up and all clear!"
Kat pushed the pirate woman aside and ran to the rail, and would have leapt over the side had one of Bonnie's men not restrained her. Bonnie, who'd recovered her balance easily, stood to one side, smiling smugly. At that moment, Kat could have killed the woman with her bare hands, for humiliating her at the tavern, for taking Laurent. But there was no chance for that revenge, not with the Barracuda in the hands of pirates loyal to Bonnie. Kat could only watch as the boat carrying Laurent took him, and her one chance of avoiding marriage to the Viceroy, back to Tortuga.
Kat paced the room with agitated steps. Twenty in one direction, thirty in another—she'd done it a hundred times since her arrival. Only this morning, the pirates had sent her to the Viceroy's palace with a guard, and the order had immediately come for her to be sent to these extravagant quarters and dressed in lavish lady's clothing. She didn't know what had happened to the pirates and Anne Bonnie, although she guessed that they were still waiting in the harbor for their ransom reward.
The palace at Cartegena was no different than the one she'd left in Mexico; expensively decorated, strewn with art and baubles and all things of the very best quality, as befitted the nobility of Spain, it was the embodiment of everything she despised and had tried to escape. After the maids finished dressing her, the door had been locked behind them, and a guard posted in the hallway. Kat had been told that she was to be taken to an audience with the Viceroy—her future husband.
But she would not marry him if she could find a way to help it.
There was a knock at the door, and one of the Viceroy's men stepped in. "His Excellency wishes to see you now, Señorita," he said. Kat sighed and composed herself, preparing to deal with another member of the nobility—and immediately tripped on the heavily embroidered hem of her dress. Weeks of wearing men's clothing had left her unaccustomed to moving in skirts, and she knew she'd pay for it. Resisting the urge to curse, she followed the man out of the room, down an abominably high staircase, and through several long passages.
When they reached an ornately carved door, the man opened it and bowed her into a room that Kat knew was only used to receive guests; it was the most lavishly furnished, and was meant to awe the visitor. At the end of a table, a man—the Viceroy, she assumed—sat. He rose when she stepped in, and she couldn't help thinking, Him? This is the man my family wanted me to marry?
The Viceroy was dressed in rich green brocade, with lace at the cuffs of his shirt and fine leather boots on his feet, but none of it was able to disguise the fact that he was fat—rotund, even. His hair and beard were carefully manicured and streaked with gray, his face was rosy-cheeked and wore a congenial smile, but his eyes spoke volumes. They were greedy, deceiving eyes; this was a man who cared nothing for others, who would have his every whim obeyed, no matter who it hurt; a man whose entire lifestyle was focused around himself.
"Welcome to Cartegena," he said, standing. Kat stayed where she was and let him approach her. "We have been informed of your kidnapping, and of your brave trials and tribulations. Why didn't you tell me she was beautiful?" he asked the herald before Kat could say anything.
"I did tell you, your Excellency," the man replied from behind her.
"Well, why didn't you tell me she was more beautiful than you did?" The Viceroy took her hand in a courtly gesture, and Kat resisted the urge to pull it out of his grip. "I have also been informed, my child, of some disagreement between yourself and your family about this marriage. Well, as you are now here, I assume that there are no more problems—and whatever I hold to be automatically becomes so."
"There were no difficulties," Kat said, her voice flat. "I ran away."
Alvarado ignored her. "My dear child, I see no reason why we should not be married tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" she repeated, startled.
"Well, yesterday unfortunately is impossible. Today—today I will be devoting all of my attention to the task of making myself even more personable for you. But tomorrow, I have the entire day free. We shall be married tomorrow."
"You needn't bother preparing yourself," Kat said venomously. "I have no intention of marrying you."
"You are in error," Alvarado said in a harder voice, his eyes narrowing. "We will not discuss this."
"I insist that you return me to my family," she retorted.
"It is always a mistake to insist upon a decision one is powerless to enforce. After all, it was your family's wish that you and I be married," he reminded her. "I will continue to assume that it is your true wish as well." He turned to the herald. "And what has been done with the pirates that brought the Contessa Katarina?"
"They are still aboard the ship, Excellency," the man told him.
"I desire to see them. I will honor them with my personal attention at once," he declared, making his way to the door. "Pray excuse me, my child," he said to Kat.
She prickled at the man's patronizing tone, but spoke up anyway; this might be her only chance to ensure that someone could help her escape. "Your Excellency," she said loudly, in her most haughty tone. "I will accompany you."
"You are already acquiring a taste for my company," Alvarado said with a smile. "Good. By all means, come along."
Nothing of the sort, you pig, Kat thought as she laid her hand on his arm. If she was lucky, she might still find an ally among the pirates.
They rowed out to the Barracuda in a large craft manned by armored guards and soldiers. The Viceroy made his way up the gangplank, offering Kat his hand to assist her; she ignored it. "So this is the Barracuda," he said, strutting about the deck. "I fancy her as well as any of our own armada—perhaps better."
"Agreed, Your Excellency," the captain of the guard said. "With some alterations, it would make a good ship of war."
"The elimination of Señor Barracuda alone is enough to convert her into what I really need—a vessel for my private pleasure," Alvarado declared. Kat tried not to make a noise of disgust at such a suggestion, but it was difficult. He noticed, but read her expression wrong. "Don't be surprised, my dear, if some fine evening she puts out to sea carrying you on your honeymoon in the arms of your beloved." He moved a little closer to her. "If my reference to your beloved is vague, I was referring to myself."
This time, Kat did snort in disgust, but the Viceroy had turned away to observe a new commotion on deck as the guards dragged someone up from the hold. To Kat's surprise, it was Anne Bonnie, kicking, punching and scratching. She managed to deck several guards and knock one clear over the railing before they were able to restrain her.
"Bless me, it's a woman!" the Viceroy said, amused.
"So I am, hogshead," Bonnie snapped, a dangerous grin on her face, and spat at his feet. "So what are you?"
Alvarado smiled. "I am the one who must decide whether you hang—or burn at the stake. It's a difficult choice."
"Your Excellency," Kat said, thinking fast. "I promised them safe conduct back to Tortuga." She saw the surprise in Anne's expression, but ignored it and kept her own face carefully blank.
"You did?" said the Viceroy. "Oh, well, I probably would have done the same thing—and I wouldn't have kept my word. I see no earthly reason why I should keep yours."
Kat temper heated at the man's nonchalant attitude toward people's lives. "When I gave these people my word, I meant it to be kept," she retorted.
"There is no such thing," the Viceroy declared, with the air of one reciting a proverb, "as a word of honor that must be kept—so far as this rubbish is concerned."
"As a Contessa, my word must be kept," Kat insisted.
The Viceroy studied her for a moment. "You shall have your way," he said. "These people will be kept under guard—as light a guard as necessary—until a way is found to their fellow pirates."
"I have your word for it?" Kat asked dubiously.
"You have. Commandanté," he ordered one of his men, "escort the Contessa to the gangway." She followed the armored man down the wooden platform, but before she reached the end, she heard, "You will now take this riffraff, shackled if necessary, to the prison. You will keep them there until I decide whether they are to be burned at the stake separately or together."
Kat whirled, enraged, but the boat with the Viceroy's guards had already pushed away from the Barracuda. She could hear the sounds of Anne Bonnie's struggles and the roars of the other pirates as the soldiers rounded them up, and clenched her fists. Had she not been wearing the infernal mass of skirts that she was, she would have leapt from the boat and joined the pirates' struggle, if only to have the opportunity to kill Alvarado. If the Viceroy came within her reach again, she would tear him to pieces. But first—first she had to find a way to get away from the palace.