Surrender of a Siren (The Wanton Dairymaid Trilogy #2)

“That we attacked the Kestrel without provocation, destroyed her cargo.”


Joss lifted an eyebrow. “Shot down her mast with our cannon.”

“The blackguard.” Gray made a fist around the bar. “Why didn’t I let him go down with his miserable ship?”

“Ah, I expect you were enjoying playing the hero too much. Bent on impressing the ladies, you know. How is the lovely Miss Turner, by the way?”

Gray’s chest deflated. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Good God, man, what did you do?”

“I asked her to marry me.”

Joss gave a low whistle. “And?”

“And—” Gray grabbed the bars with both hands and pushed back. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

He didn’t want to think about it, either, but he could hardly keep from doing so. What had frightened her? For all her brave talk, Gray was certain he’d seen fear in her eyes. Was it watching him put in chains that had spurred her to flee? Perhaps she had her own reasons to avoid arrest.

“Her name isn’t even Jane Turner,” he said bitterly. “She’s not even a governess. She’s some sort of conniving little thief with six hundred pounds beneath her stays.”

“I thought you didn’t want to talk about it.”

Gray shot his brother a look. It was then that he noticed the haggard shadows on Joss’s face, and the bruise purpling beneath his left eye. “No, let’s talk of other things. How long have you been here?”

“Two days.”

“The guards give you that?” Gray gestured toward his own eye. Joss shrugged.

Gray released a string of oaths. “Which one was it? He’ll pay for it with his life, I swear to you.”

“Settle down, Gray. And for God’s sake, don’t go punching yourself in the eye just to even the score.”

Gray shot him a look. “Not amusing, Joss.”

“Oh yes, it is. Give me credit for a joke when I make one. It’s nothing, Gray. I’ve had worse. You’ve given me worse. And it’s no more than a man can expect, I suppose, when he’s an alleged pirate.”

“Piracy charges.” Gray cracked his neck. “What a joke.” This was the voyage he’d finally gone respectable, and what had it gotten him? Jilted and jailed. No good deed went unpunished.

A few hours later, the guard sauntered back down the corridor. “You’ve a visitor, gentlemen. A lovely miss.”

An irrational surge of hope rose up in Gray’s breast. She came back, some fool voice whispered. She wouldn’t leave you.

Light footfalls sounded on the stone floor, and a figure emerged from the darkness. Of course. It was Bel.

“Joss. Dolly.”

She clung to the bars, and the two of them joined her from the other side.

“How’s Jacob?” Joss’s voice was tight. “How’s my son?”

“He’s fine, Joss. A bit taller than he was when you saw him last, and twice as mischievous. A Grayson man, through and through. He’s been asking for his papa.” She sniffed back tears.

“I’ve spoken with my friend, Mr. Wilson,” Bel continued. “You’ll remember him, Joss. He’s the one who used to be a solicitor in London, before he devoted his life to charity.” Her gaze flitted toward the guard and she lowered her voice. “He’s made some inquiries. He says … He says your situation doesn’t look good.”

“What does that mean?” Joss asked. “Surely once the judge has the story from Gray, he’ll not press any charges.”

“That’s just the problem,” Bel said. “It’s Mallory’s word against Gray’s.”

“And mine,” Joss said. “And every crewman’s aboard the Aphrodite and the Kestrel.”

“Not every crewman. There’s someone … an officer who just arrived today, who’s taking Mallory’s side.”

“Brackett.” Gray released a groan. “The bastard.”

“And the other crewmen, Mr. Wilson says their testimony could be too easily disregarded, since they might face charges themselves.”

“What sort of charges could they face?” Joss asked.

“Piracy, for the crew of the Aphrodite. Mutiny, for the Kestrel’s men.”

Gray swore under his breath. No, their situation did not look good. “So we bribe the judge. Every man has his price.”

“We can’t.” Bel shook her head.

“Bel, this is no time for scruples. This is hanging we’re discussing.”

“I mean it won’t work,” she continued. “Mr. Wilson knows something of this Mr. Fitzhugh. He’s ambitious, Mr. Wilson says, eager to make a name for himself and obtain a better post. That’s why he’ll press charges on such slender evidence. He means to make an example of Gray.”

Joss turned to Gray. “Why would he make an example of you?”

Gray clenched his jaw. He knew precisely why. “Not all privateers stopped seizing ships with the end of the war. Some of them kept right on plundering, even without letters of marque. They’re pirates now, with no allegiance to the Crown. It’s a problem for honest merchants. Like me,” he added ironically.