A Pirate's Wife for Me (31 page)

She took his hand and put it into the crook of her elbow. "Come. We'll go someplace where we can converse." She smiled at Gracia, at Signor Marino, and at his staff, then headed Taran up the stairs to the main level. Quietly, intensely, she said, "Where are the papers, you incredibly rude and disgustingly rested swine?"

"Third level, to the left. Third door on the right."

She led him according to his directions. "Today I have made a thorough inspection of all of the lower rooms and some of the second floor. But not so far as the third level. How did you discover this place?"

He said, "Last night, Harkness gave me a tour of the house, and when I asked where Davies kept his papers, he led me … to the place we are going. In the moonlight, Giraud seemed much the same as when last I visited. In the daylight, it must look quite different."

"The house is dirty and neglected, but with the proper care, it would be a magnificent home."

He must have heard the reserve in her voice, for he said, "But…?"

"It would seem Sir Davies directed his bile and his enmity toward the royal family by desecrating the king's study."

"Desecrating … how?"

"Portraits and drapes are slashed. Vile bodily functions were done in the fireplace. Cigars were extinguished on the rugs." The butchery had horrified her.

"Davies is a vulgar man of foul habits. He led the prince astray into terrible dissipations. I cannot be surprised that he reveals his inferiority by seeking to destroy all that is good in Cenorina."

"If ever I had harbored a doubt about your accusations, the king's study would have dispelled them."

"Did
you harbor doubts?"

"No, for Throckmorton upheld you." That would teach him to ask such leading questions. "Here we are." She opened the third door on the right. She led him inside, and found herself in a small, windowless room with a desk, a chair, and a wall full of locked drawers.

He shut and locked the door behind them. He removed his mask and waved a hand toward the drawers. "Davies might be a swine, but he is an accomplished swine. Is this not a brilliant way to hide an important paper, in a drawer among a hundred?"

"Not as brilliant as bringing an accomplished lockpick to find and open the drawer."

"Did you compliment me?"

"No. Throckmorton hired me."
Take that, Taran Tamson.
She walked along the walls, looking closely at the locks. About once out of every ten drawers, she would stop and touch the brass, close her eyes, rub softly, shake her head, and move on. Finally she rubbed her thumb across the lock on a high drawer, slanted him a smile, got her tools out of her capacious reticule and rolled them out on the desk. She had to pull a chair over and stand on it, and when she was eye-level with the lock, she worked it briefly, so briefly his jaw dropped when she opened the drawer.

"It's never a good idea to thrust your hand sight-unseen into a drawer," she said. "People have been known to set traps as a final line of defense against an intruder." She stood on her tiptoes and peered into the drawer.

She gasped.

He dragged over a chair and stood on it. He looked into the drawer — and he laughed, briefly, nastily.

Money. Cash. Paper wealth drawn on the Bank of England. A whole drawer full of it. And a mouse trap set and ready for anyone unwary enough to reach without looking.

"That would have broken your fingers," he said.

She whispered, "Welcome to the Davies Bank."

Taran slid a hand down the side to gauge the depth of the bills, then toward the back. "This is not nearly enough. A drawer full is simply not enough."

She turned stunned eyes on him. "God's mercy, how much has he stolen?"

"Stolen, extorted … He sold valuable art. He confiscated properties. Cenorina was a wealthy country. He embezzled a nation's treasure."

She looked around at the wall of drawers.

He nodded. "Yes. Probably there is more here."

"As well as the papers you seek. Let me get back to work." Again she tested the locks on the drawers, opened another, this one containing a bag of coins of all denominations — and another trap. She opened an almost empty drawer, containing only one torn half of a bank note worth one hundred pound sterling.

"Not worth bothering to collect," he said.

Her mind whirled a confusion of thought, instincts, fears and amazement, but as she climbed on a chair to open the fourth drawer, she was proud to note her fingers were steady. The lock opened easily — it had been opened many times, more than the others. She looked inside; a short stack of papers rested flat in the drawer. "I may have found what we seek." Gingerly she touched the stash. When no trap snapped at her fingers, she grasped the papers, stepped down off the chair and placed the sheaf on the desk. "I suggest you proceed while keeping careful track of the order, to leave no trace of our activities here."

He left the papers where she had placed them, bent and read the first greeting. "This is a letter from a Colonel of Portugal … accepting Davies's invitation to come to Cenorina two months hence … for the auction."

"What auction?"

"I am not sure." But she could tell by the tone of his voice that he had his suspicions. He lifted the first sheet and read the next. "Another letter from a comte of Normandy, telling Davies that the money was deposited in the account in Switzerland."

"The money for what?" She looked at the sheet in Taran’s hand. "And shouldn't these be in Portuguese and French?"

"Compare the handwriting." Taran showed both letters to her. "To safeguard the contents, Davies copied them and destroyed the originals."

"An auction for what? Money for what?"

Taran read from another sheet of paper. "From a baron of Prussia, 'I have written a check for required payment of five thousand pounds to be included in the auction and added another thousand pounds for your good will and favor should there be any chance of a tie. The islands of Cenorina would be a precious acquisition for me and my aristocratic family who wish nothing more than use Cenorina's position to strike at England's domination and, as we discussed, infiltrate their government…"

Her voice rose. "Davies is auctioning off Cenorina?"

"Sh." Taran put this hand over her mouth.

She pushed it away and spoke more quietly. "That's absurd. No one auctions off a
country!"

"Davies was bold and did what no one thought possible — he captured the queen, dispatched the prince and took control of the whole country. He has taken from it all wealth, and now he sells the land and the location to the highest bidder, to those men and women who seek power or land or, in the case of this baron, want Cenorina for its position close to England. England's enemies have long wished to be able to easily strike at her. Why do you think this has Throckmorton's attention?"

"So Throckmorton
knew?"
She fought to keep her tone level, but — no one sold a whole country. No one bought a whole country. This was madness!

Taran continued to leaf through the papers. He was calm, almost preternaturally so, as if now that his worst suspicions were confirmed, he could proceed with his plan. "Throckmorton did not suppose this situation at all. He paid no heed until I suggested this could be Davies's plan."

"Now you know, and you have time to stop him."

"Yes."

"You'll tell Throckmorton at once."

"No."

"But —"

Taran looked up, and his eyes were cold, bleak, steady. "If I do that, Throckmorton will intercept Davies and I will not have my chance for revenge. The man destroyed my family, my pride, my life. He kept me from my wife." Taran caressed her cheek with the back of his fingers. "I will not give Davies to Throckmorton first."

"I understand." She did. He was going to fight a battle. She … no longer had a function here. "Do as you like. My job is done, and now I will leave for another mission."

CHAPTER FORTY

Taran could not believe the gall
of the woman. Cate was
his wife.
She belonged at his side, in his bed, at his right hand, and now — she talked about leaving?

Absolutely not.

"We didn't expect to discover Sir Davies's plan quite so quickly." She looked up, her eyes shocked. "But now that we have, I must go."

"You can't go. You're my excuse to live in Giraud."

"You're resourceful. You could hide in town, wait for your ship to arrive."

Damn her and her logic. "You have no way to go."

"I could go on the ferry."

He flailed for a moment, then seized on a random idea. "You've forgotten the crown jewels."

"What?"

"The crown jewels. They are here somewhere." Actually, not a bad random idea. "You are the housekeeper. You can find them."

Her green eyes narrowed on him. "That wasn't part of the agreement."

"No." He moved toward her, stalking her with temptation. "But think of it. The queen's tiara is gold crusted with diamonds, and at the top above the forehead is an emerald to rival the color of your eyes. It is the stormstone, named for the color of the sky when a winter-borne wind brings roiling clouds of green and gray."
Cate would be so beautiful with that crown on her head.
"The king's crown matches the queen's in splendor, but rather than an emerald, it holds a sapphire almost purple in color. It is the seastone, named after the color of the ocean when the storm is past and the sun shines on the still restless water. Cenorina's position in the Atlantic has brought us wealth and treasures, crown jewels without match, greater than any royal jewels in the world."

"Now no one knows where they are?"

"They are gone. Gone." It broke his heart.

She was intensely practical. "Sir Davies sold them."

"Davies used to gaze at the crown jewels with such greed, and it is said that after the king's funeral, he was seen modeling the king's crown before the mirror. He would not sell something that gave him such gratification." The memory burned in Taran’s gut. He had been there. He had seen it. He had struck Davies a blow across the face that sent the crown flying, and hotly told him he was not worthy to shine the dead king's shoes.

For the first time, he had seen bitter resentment and rancor in Davies's eyes. But arrogant young prince that he was, he hadn't cared. Never had it crossed his mind Davies would dare … what he had dared.

With a pragmatism that matched hers, he added, "Anyway, none of the stones have appeared on the world market."

"Stones can be cut."

"The color cannot be replicated."

"So you want me to find the crown jewels while I wait to leave Cenorina?"

"What else do you have to do?"

She gave a crack of laughter. "I know this palace is not really my responsibility, but it obviously once was a much beloved home. It calls to me to restore its spirit, and if I must remain, I would rather act as housekeeper than thief."

So she loved Giraud. He almost hugged her. But she had her arms folded across her chest, as if she knew she had too easily given up her intention to leave. And if he wanted to keep her from setting sail on a raft back to England, it would not do to smile at her pride. "That is a noble decision," he said.

"Yes." She stood on the chair and one by one, re-locked the drawers. She descended, placed her hands on her waist, and looked disapprovingly at him. "This morning you spoke of revolution. You asked that I somehow light the beacon. I agreed. You asked that I rescue the queen. I agreed. Now you want me to find the crown jewels. Is there no end to the chores you require of me?"

"I require you to warm my bed every night."

"It is my bed. Every night. A man who demands so much of a woman would be wise to remember and respect her boundaries."

"I hold you in respect above all women."

"What a compliment." She walked to the door. "Don your disguise. I must go. The servants dally at their tasks if I do not harry them."

"They will learn."

"Indeed." Clearly she had no doubt she could form them to her will. "While I do promise to watch for the crown jewels' hiding place, I fear Sir Davies will have taken them to some secret location and buried them deep."

"Digging is too much like labor for him. Perhaps he forced one of my people to dig the hole, and buried the fellow with the jewels."

"Horrible!" She turned the doorknob, then stopped. "One of
your
people?"

He cursed his own royal sense of possession. "I am Cenorinian."

Cate looked at him oddly, deeply. "You are risking everything for this venture, aren't you?"

"I am."

"But should I find the crown jewels and Sir Davies's fortune, your gain will be immeasurable."

"Greed is perhaps what drives me. And perhaps you, too? If you should find the jewels, you'll wish to pick out a piece or two."

She snapped, "If I find the jewels, I'll take my share without asking."