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“Señorita, are you awake? It’s almost noon.”
As Alberto knocked insistently on her door, Talia rolled over and groaned. Removing a satin mask from her eyes, she placed her feet on the floor. She’d hardly slept. After Talon had returned her to her quarters, she could think of nothing else but his glorious kiss.
Upon feeling his primal reaction to her, she nearly gave into her unrequited lust. He had been a perfect gentleman, and she’d thrown herself at him like a common trollop. Had he not gained control she would have given herself to him. The adulation and fear in his eyes as he’d frozen her advances was nothing less than embarrassing.
How can I face him again?
Throwing a dressing robe about her shoulders, she stalked to the door with a huff. Cracking it just a touch, she glared at her partner. “What is it, Alberto? I didn’t sleep well.”
Wringing his cap in his hands, the Spaniard shook his head vehemently. “Something has happened, Señorita! You must come quickly. Captain Hidalgo was stabbed on the quarterdeck last night.”
Dread engulfed her. She was supposed to follow the captain last night. Had she and Talon almost witnessed his demise? Nodding, Talia dressed in a trice and followed Alberto to the top deck as quickly as she could.
A large commotion at the mid-mast entertained the crew as she approached. Gathered in a circle, the men yelled profanities and shook their fists with bellows of, “Mutiny!”
Perez’ voice reverberated off the sails. “This man, graciously given passage to the colonies aboard our ship, had the audacity to kill our beloved Captain Hidalgo.” The crew roared in anger.
Talia frowned. Who in the world were they talking about? Weaving through the crowd, she gasped as Talon Barberry stood next to Perez in chains. His face was a mess of blood and bruises as his hair rabbled about his head like a bird’s nest. Clenching her fists, she attempted to push her way forward to no avail.
The men bellowed for Perez to throw Talon overboard, but he calmed them with a wave of his hands. “As your newly appointed captain, I sentence Señor Barberry to the slave hold. We’re changing course. We’ll moor in Guadeloupe. He’s wanted in France for crimes against the crown, and I say we collect our just reward!” With that, the men cheered in agreement.
Just as Talia stepped forward to claim Talon’s innocence, he caught her gaze and shook his head. The shackles at his wrists clanked as he pointed discreetly at Alberto. A warning?
With her heart pounding in her chest, she gave her partner a sidelong glance. Alberto was working for Perez and DuPont?
Dieu...
Her stomach lurched as a pair of hefty sailors shoved Talon down the quarterdeck stairs. She knew what ill fate he faced below decks. “Non, they can’t do this.” Retreating from the crowd, she returned to her quarters to think.
*****
TALON TRIPPED OVER his shackles as two sailors shoved him into the slave hold. Landing face first upon the floor, he groaned. His muscles trembled as he pushed himself up to lean against a wooden beam. Licking the blood from his lips, he winced.
What in the hell had happened? After tossing and turning in his hammock all night, he’d been yanked from a restless sleep by the burly second mate. Before the man had slapped the iron chains upon Talon’s wrists, Alberto Vargas emerged from the shadows and cold-cocked him. There was only one explanation—the bastard was a double agent.
Speak of the devil.
As Vargas descended the stairs with a skein of rope, Talon eyed him with disgust. “So, Vargas. Which do you favor? Spanish or French loyalties?”
Vargas snickered. “I don’t care about politics, Señor.”
The slaves scrambled as far away as their bindings would allow as Vargas grabbed Talon’s wrists and dragged him across the hold to a wooden support beam in the middle of the room. Encircling the structure with the length of rope, he tied a knot in the end and pulled it taut.
Drenched in sweat, Talon snorted. “What is it, then? Fame? Glory? What do you get from this?”
“It’s simple. I want my five hundred pounds... just like you.”
Vargas was promised the same amount of money as me?
Talon swallowed the disgust that had lodged in his throat. Something was very wrong about this whole mission. “You sold out your partner for money?”
Vargas shrugged. “I have no attachment to the woman. Señorita Montrose is merely a pawn, just like you.”
Rage gripped Talon’s heart. If DuPont knew Talia wasn’t Carina Aringosa, what in God’s name was the point of this mission? Pulling against his chains, Talon growled, “I demand to know why I’ve been set up.”
Clenching his jaw, Vargas whipped around. As the man’s fist connected with Talon’s face, stars swam in his vision.
Yanking on his shackles, Vargas fastened his chains to the ropes. “Your days of demanding things are over, Señor. This trip was a ruse set up by a French gentleman who wants nothing more than to expand his boundaries of trade in New Orleans, and the señorita is his prize. And you fell for it.”
Breathing shallowly, Talon glowered at the man through his good eye. “If you hurt Talia, I swear to God I will hunt you down and kill you.”
Vargas cackled. “You won’t be doing anything but rotting at the bottom of the sea.” With that, he stomped as hard as he could on Talon’s shackles, ripping the skin around his ankle.
Searing pain shot up his limb. Spots danced in front of his eyes as he tried to lift his maimed leg. It wasn’t broken, but blood dripped from the restraints. “God have mercy...”
Vargas shook his head. “I can’t believe they hired such a fool. You’ve been the easiest decoy to deceive. Adiós, Señor.”
As the man ascended the ladder, Talon collapsed against the beams. This was all his fault. DuPont’s vague instructions, Vargas’ abandonment when he got on the ship... of course he and Talia were pawns. At this point, it didn’t matter what they did. His fate was sealed.
At least Talia hadn’t betrayed him. It was apparent she knew nothing about Vargas’ plans. But what were they going to do with her? Apparently, DuPont needed her. But for what? Talon’s heart pounded as he pushed the horrible thoughts simmering in his mind.
“Massa Talon!” Marcus scampered from beneath a stack of flour sacks. His eyes widened as he stared at the blood pooling on the floor. Grabbing a dirty towel from the mop bucket, he pressed it to Talon’s wound. “Sah... ’dis ain’ good.”
Pulling on Marcus’ shirtfront, Talon gasped for air. As the room spun around him, his skin tingled, and he lost his grip. Collapsing, he closed his eyes. “I need you to do something, lad.”
“Anythin’ for you sah.”
“Find the Miss. She’s in danger. We need to warn her. Can you do that for me?”
“What about you? I’s cain’ leave you!”
Talon grabbed his sleeve and coughed. “You have to! Just get to Talia. Please...”
“Yes, sah.”
Talon opened his eyes to watch as the boy clambered up the wooden stairs. At the top, Marcus looked back and gave him a small wave. Aye, he was the only one Talon could trust.
“It’s in your hands, Marcus.”
Only then did he succumb to the darkness.
*****
“DAMN YOU, RICARDO. What have you gotten me into?”
Rage skirted through Talia’s body as she paced the floor of her cabin. She wasn’t sure how to proceed with this mission. If what Talon said was true, she could no longer trust Alberto. Unfortunately, she had no way of getting to her savior. Perez had his scruffy dogs running patrols past her door every fifteen minutes.
Clenching her teeth, she hurled an angry growl in the air. Ricardo had set her up. She could feel it. Was it because he and DuPont were working with the Lafittes? She and Alex were close, but his cousins, Jean and Pierre, had never liked her. Through her spying, she’d helped incarcerate many of their men.
But why would Ricardo go through the pomp and circumstance of changing Carina’s traveling plans, only to have Talia take her place? Had Ricardo used her only to entice Talon and make him DuPont’s scapegoat? “The filthy gamin. He’s gone too far.”
It wasn’t easy being in Ricardo’s employ. Most of her assignments were centered around spying on foreign diplomats for the Cabildo. But Ricardo spent more time getting himself into trouble than he did governing. She’d had to clean up his messes more than once.
His plan for New Orleans hadn’t set well with Havana. The last two years, he’d talked of nothing but trade rights on the Mississippi. He was determined to sell the privilege to navigate the river to the highest bidder. Apparently, he didn’t care who got hurt in the process—including his own daughter.
When he’d dragged Carina into it—along with her British fiancé—Talia had had no choice but to act. Carina was her soft spot, and Ricardo always used that to his advantage.
“Je suis stupide. I never should have agreed to this mission.” She slumped into the chair. First things first, she needed to rescue Talon and get off this ship. “Dieu, how will I do that?”
A key jiggled in the lock. As the door to her cabin creaked open, she crossed her arms and glared at the intruder.
Ramón Perez entered uninvited. “Good evening, Señorita Montrose. I trust you are comfortable?” Looking at the threadbare carpet, he cackled. “Dios mio, you’ve paced a hole in the rug.”
Sitting up, Talia stared at the man incredulously. “You know my real name.”
Taking a chair across from her, he nodded. “Sí, of course. We work for the same man.”
Two can play this game. With a haughty toss of her hair, she held her head high. “I doubt that, Monsieur.”
Perez’ yellowing teeth gleamed as he sat forward and steepled his index fingers together. “Vargas and I have been working for Señor DuPont from the beginning—his knights if you will. You and Señor Barberry are pawns. Fortunately for you, your savior took the brunt of the blame and spared you a most heinous death.”
Her heart skipped a beat. “Talon saved me?”
“Sí, but his motives are suspect.” Flint sparked from Perez’ watery gray eyes as he ogled her bosom. “I think the young DuPont will find it most distressing that a mere peasant almost soiled his bride-to-be.”
The hair on the back of her neck prickled. “You’re daft. I’m not marrying that monster’s son.”
“Indeed, you are. You’re his prize. He has high ambitions to head a large plantation along the Mississippi and occupy a place of power within New Orleans. You happen to have both.”
Talia laughed derisively. “Imbécile. My father is the head of Temptation Hall. It isn’t mine.” They didn’t need to know the land belonged to her mother’s family.
Perez leaned forward, his tobacco-stained teeth mere inches from her face. Grabbing her roughly, he dug his jagged nails into the top of her arm. “There are ways to remedy that, querida.”
For the first time in her life, Talia was frightened. She yanked out of the man’s grasp. “Why are you doing this?”
“My reasons are my own. However, DuPont has loftier ambitions. He’s the member of some movement in Paris that hopes to re-establish French control of New Orleans. I don’t know the details, and I couldn’t care less. In less than a fortnight, you’ll meet your fiancé and I will retire a happy man.”
Clasping her hands to her mouth, she feigned a loud gasp. “That can’t be right. Alberto told me we’re mooring Guadeloupe.”
Perez’ smile faded, rage consuming his façade. Rising, he kicked the chair across the room with a curse. “Vargas has a big mouth.” Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath. Smoothing the lapels of his overcoat, he straightened his cravat and turned toward her. As he scanned Talia from head to toe, his eyes filled with lust. She shrank away from him.
As if warring with himself, he finally backed away with a sigh. “Lo siento, Señorita, but I’m just the messenger. Once we arrive at Basse-Terre, you will be handed over to your new husband. Colonel DuPont and his son will welcome you into their family with open arms.”
Talia stared at him intently. “What of Talon?”
Perez shrugged. “He’s a pawn, nothing else. We needed a scapegoat to lure you here, and he gave us the perfect alibi. His job is finished. What do we do with pawns but sacrifice them for the good of the whole?”
Clenching every muscle in her body, Talia stared at Perez. Her seductive wiles weren’t going to help her this time. These men were crazy, and they’d kill Talon sooner rather than later.
Squaring her shoulders, she held her head high. “Bon. I accept my fate. I knew that spying for the Cabildo would lead to nothing but death in the end. How close are we to Guadeloupe? I want to be prepared for my demise.”
Perez gazed at Talia, softness registering in his eyes. “We are three days out. We should start to see land soon.”
Heaving a sigh, Talia wiped a faux tear and hung her head. “Merci, Monsieur. Might I have a moment to myself?”
“Indeed, Señorita. Buenos noches.” Perez exited as quietly as he’d entered.
Sitting on the bed, she flung herself upon the mattress and buried her face in her arms. With a dramatic flair, she conjured up a loud sob. As the metallic click of the lock forced her gaze upward, she sprung up and glared at the door. “Idiote.”
She stomped across the floor and wiggled the handle. “Merde.” Sighing, she plopped onto the bed. She glanced at the clock on the desk. It wasn’t quite dinner time. Unfortunately, she didn’t have much choice but to wait for an opportunity to strike.
Smacking her fan against her hand, she dislodged the small knife and placed it under her pillow. She had no clue how she was going to get out of this, but she’d be ready for whomever tried to thwart her.
*****
TALIA AWOKE TO THE jiggling of the door handle. Jumping out of bed, she snatched her knife from beneath her pillow, prepared to give Perez something to remember her by.
The door creaked open, and a small hand waved at her in surrender. As the child’s friendly face peered at her in awe, relief spread through her veins. Throwing the weapon to the bed, she grabbed the boy by the shirtfront. “Marcus, dieu. You frightened me.”
“I’s sorry, Miss. Massa Talon sent me.”
Shuffling from foot to foot, the boy glanced at the open door. Talia closed it quickly. “Come in. Are you hungry?”
Marcus licked his lips. “I’s starvin’. I ain’t had nothin’ in a day. I’s hidin’ from Massa Perez, not that he care too much or notice. Massa Talon’s all I’s got now.”
She smiled at the child’s adoration. Apparently, she wasn’t the only one smitten with Talon Barberry. Leading Marcus to the table, she placed the bread and cheese in front of him. “How is our hero? Is he hurt? Have you seen him?”
The boy stuffed the food in his mouth and swallowed. “It ain’ good, Miss. Massa Vargas be on his watch. ’Dat man ain’ nice. He gave me these this mornin’.”
As the child lifted his shirt, exposing new lashes crusted over with pus and blood, Talia’s heart broke. She traced the angry welts with her fingertip. “Oh, Marcus.”
Pulling his shirt down, the boy scoffed. “Ain’ no use cryin’ now.”
“You’ve been out and around the ship. What’s happening?”
Darting a glance at the door, the child lowered his voice. “Massa Perez made Massa Vargas his first mate. The crew ain’t happy ’bout ’dat.”
Talia sighed. “I can imagine. Vargas isn’t the smartest banana in the bunch.”
Marcus wrinkled his nose. “The only thing Perez has goin’ like clockwork is the dog watch. An’ they be watchin’ your room the mos’.”
Talia crossed her arms and paced. “They expect me to escape.”
The little boy gazed at her expectantly. “Ain’ that the plan, Miss?”
“Oui, but we need to rescue Talon first. Do you know where he is?”
“They’s put him in the hold wit’ the slaves. Vargas be guardin’ him day an’ night.” Tears wobbled at his sooty eyelashes. “Poor Massa Talon. Vargas lashes him every hour.”
Holding her hands up, Talia stopped the boy. She didn’t want to hear about such cruel torture. She needed to focus. “We don’t have much time. In less than thirty-six hours, we’ll be rounding the eastern coast of Guadeloupe. Perez will dock at Basse-Terre twelve hours later. We have to free Talon and get off this vessel before we dock. It’s our only chance to escape alive.”
The boy reached into his pocket and pulled out an antique brass key. “Massa Talon told me to give this to you.”
As he placed it in her hand, her eyes lit up. It was the key Talon had shown her.
“Sah thought it would be important to have.”
She nodded. “Bon. Does it unlock all the doors on the ship?”
The boy grinned. “All the ones I’s tried so far.”
Talia’s brain whirred as she flipped the metal in her hand. Unfortunately, she was stuck here. The moment she’d try to escape, the watch would notify Perez.
She returned the key to Marcus. “I need your help. It’s up to you to free us.”
Excitement flooded the boy’s face as he burst up. “I’s can do it, Miss. I be a real spy, jus’ like Massa Talon.”
She patted his head. “That’s exactly what I need—a spy to break into the first mate’s quarters. There must be something that can explain what’s going on.”
Grinning, Marcus rubbed his hands together conspiratorially. “You’s can count on me.”
She kissed his forehead. “Bon. It must be done quickly. Return to me as soon as you can.”
“Yes’m.” As quietly as he’d entered, the boy left.
With a heavy heart, Talia sat on the bed and prayed. “S’il vous plait, we’re desperate. Help the child find something.”