Boyd snorted. “The man wants death rather than prison again. We didn’t come here to give him what he wants.”
“Point made, Yank,” James said, right before he delivered his first punch. “But he needs a few things broken to remember me by.”
That ended up being a jaw, some ribs, one arm, and a collarbone before Pierre lost consciousness. Damon winced a few times, not for the pirate, but because he’d escaped a similar beating and still wasn’t sure why. Malory’s children’s brief alliance with him must have carried more weight than he’d thought.
When they went outside, the third Anderson brother approached James. “There are nearly thirty more of Lacross’s people who tried to hide in the jungle—servants, doxies, and the men who weren’t willing to die for Lacross. They surrendered without a fight.”
Damon looked behind Warren and didn’t see anyone else. “Where are they?”
Warren turned around. “Give it a moment. There were a damned lot of bushes to navigate through.”
But the captured bunch started appearing through the trees, sailors pushing them forward, and Damon’s eyes suddenly flared. “Father?”
Chapter Forty-Seven
IT WAS NEARING DUSK by the time the three ships docked on the island of Anguilla. One was going to give Damon and his men passage to Jamaica after they were done here, since he would no longer have the use of the warden’s ship. He was surprised Malory had arranged that after his earlier parting remark: “All for nothing, eh?” Damon had tried to get Malory to go about his business, assuring him that Damon could see to Lacross’s delivery to the prison, but Malory had just ignored him. But he had to try again. If James ended up arrested for old charges against Captain Hawke, Jack would never forgive him.
“Still no bloody coaches to be had on this island,” James complained when the wagon arrived to take them to the prison.
As Pierre, who had been slipping in and out of consciousness, was being laid in the back of the wagon, Damon tried again to dissuade Malory from going to the prison. “You needn’t inconvenience yourself. I’m capable of delivering him—”
“Enough, Captain. I intend to see to this personally.”
“There’s a reason you shouldn’t,” Damon finally said. “I told you I had warrants for other pirates I was supposed to bring in. Hawke was one of them.”
“I appreciate the warning, but I’d already gathered as much.” James climbed up onto the driver’s perch. “I intend to get that warrant off the books. Now come aboard and tell me what your father had to say for himself.”
Damon was too relieved not to oblige. “He found out in prison that he and Lacross had one thing in common, getting revenge against you, so Pierre offered to take him with him when he found a way to escape. I’ve already told him he was wrong about you—we both were—that you didn’t seduce my mother into leaving. But now he has no idea why she left, so that is a mystery that may never be solved.”
James gave him a doubting look, but since Damon wasn’t satisfied by the brief talk he’d had with Cyril, he wasn’t going to argue about it with Malory.
“My father is not a pirate, nor even a fighter. But he’s capable of captaining a ship and was given the one Pierre stole when they escaped to hire men for Lacross’s crew, which is why I never saw him with the pirates before today. He admitted they ran out of money, so Catherine was given use of that ship to get more. If not for that, I still might not have known he wasn’t in prison any longer.”
“Bennett is going to answer for that today and admit that he lied to you when we bring him Lacross. That gives you leverage to demand that Cyril’s name be stricken from the prison records.”
A while later, entering Peter Bennett’s office without waiting to be announced—James did that, simply opened the door and walked in—they caught the warden by surprise, and he apparently didn’t like surprises. He stood up, his expression furious.
Damon forestalled whatever outrage Bennett was about to spew by saying, “Allow me, Warden Bennett, to introduce James Malory, Viscount Ryding.”
Bennett’s expression changed instantly. “A lord? On Anguilla? You do me great honor, m’lord! What brings you—?”
“You are ultimately responsible for setting a series of nasty events in motion, Mr. Bennett. I’m here to put an end to them.”
“I don’t under—”
James interrupted again. “You will remove Cyril Ross from your inmate ledger.”
“About that . . . ,” the warden began uncomfortably.
Wanting to leave the dreary prison as quickly as possible, Damon said, “Yes, I already know you don’t have him. You will still clear his charges in full since I’ve fulfilled your demands for his release. Pierre Lacross is outside and will need to be carried in, and your ship is returned in good condition.”
“And the infamous Captain Hawke?”
“Hawke died nearly twenty years ago in England, where his death was recorded,” James said.
“But we should have received word if that is so. Are you sure?”
“The proof is that I killed him, or will you discount my word?”
“Certainly not, m’lord. And I will see to it personally that this news spreads throughout the Caribbean.”
Of course Bennett would, since he wanted the accolades for it, Damon thought in disgust. But the man had opened the ledger on his desk and made notations to it. Damon peered at it to see what was written and was satisfied.
Damon turned to leave, but James wasn’t quite done. He glowered at the warden and said in one of his less pleasant tones, “You, sir, have too many other things on your mind to properly attend to this prison. You will transfer Pierre Lacross to a more secure containment from which he will never escape again, or you will resign the position so someone who actually wants it can be installed. If Lacross ever leaves this prison again, other than to go to his grave, it will be your head I will come after. I trust we understand each other?” At Bennett’s profuse agreement, James added, “Then I bid you good day.”
“He doesn’t deserve the governorship,” Damon grumbled on their way back to the harbor.
“A simple matter to assure his name is never put on the appointment list,” James replied. “That’s not a favor I’m doing for you, Captain, but what I already intended to do. My obligation to you has ended.”
Damon stiffened. That could mean any number of things, including that Malory might now give him the beating he felt Damon was owed. Before that happened, or didn’t, at least before they parted, he had one more boon to ask of James Malory. Damon was just having a damned hard time forming the words that were so important to him. And they’d reached the harbor! The wagon had stopped between Malory’s two ships. He was already getting down from it.
“Lord Malory, wait. I will regret it to the end of my days if I, that is, I wish leave to—I want to marry your daughter!”