Without confirming it, the one she was sure was he brushed his thumb over his bottom lip. “Why do you seek the good captain?”
“I was told that he … or you, rather, were part of the salvage for the Plate Fleet that went down?”
His mate stood and, with his sword, forced her to step back. “We know nothing of what you speak.”
Too late, she realized that they probably mistook her for one of the king’s pirate hunters who’d been tasked with going after the raiders of the sunken ships and their cargos. “It’s not what you’re thinking. Me brother was on one of the ships.”
Bane reached out to touch the man’s hand and force the point of his companion’s sword toward the floor. “And?”
“I was told he went down with his ship.” She choked on her tears that threatened to overwhelm her. Ever since she’d heard about her brother’s fate, she’d been unable to cope. Unable to breathe. Not after all the two of them had been through together. “Please. I have to know the truth.”
The wigged man spoke with a degree of sympathy in his voice. “Only one ship made it out.”
“Aye,” she whispered. “The Griffon. He wasn’t on that one. His ship was the San Miguel. He was the captain of it … Patrick Jack.”
Bane’s gaze softened. “Sorry. The captain didn’t make it out.”
As they began to ignore her, it angered her to be dismissed so casually, and Cameron stepped forward again. “If what you say is true, then can you explain this to me.” She tossed the bit of salvage that had been delivered to her door with a note from her brother.
It skidded across the table to land beneath the candle in front of Bane.
He and his companions froze for a full minute as she held her breath, waiting.