Bobbi Smith - Captive Pride

The last two weeks had been disastrous and he wondered if things could possibly get any worse. First there had been his father’s death in a hunting accident and the systematic dismantlement of the Kincade empire as his father’s creditors had come forth, like vultures, to feast on the remains.

Exhausted, Noah massaged the back of his neck, trying to work out the tightness in the muscles there as he gazed out across the low, rolling hills painted now with the faded colors of the dying season. He thought, philosophically, how his life was like the land that was spread out before him…his glory days of summer over and only the bleakness of winter ahead. The goal he had set before himself to regain his lost fortunes and prestige seemed insurmountable at that moment, but he knew that the longest of journeys is accomplished by only one step at a time. Still…

No longer able to deny the depths of despair that had been tormenting him since the beginning of his ordeal, Noah repeatedly smashed his fist against the wall, venting his fury upon the polished dark wood panels.

How could his father have gambled away their very livelihood? Had Radcliffe been partially right in his slimy insult? The thought sent a shaft of denial through him. No matter what else, his father would never have done what Radcliffe had claimed.

Remembrance of the duel heightened his agony, and he did not feel the damage he was wreaking on his unprotected hand. Finally, as he became aware of the futility of his actions, he stopped, all emotion temporarily drained from him. He sensed no physical discomfort, but looking down at his bloodied knuckles, Noah knew it would come later…later when the shock had worn off and the ugliness that was reality settled over him like a stifling mantle.

Lord Thomas Kincade had spared no expense when he’d purchased the Lorelei, for he’d meant her to be the showpiece of his fleet. The captain’s cabin, where Noah now sat in conference with Lyle Russell, the Lorelei’s master, reflected his father’s expensive tastes. The bunk was wide and comfortable-looking, the walls paneled, and the furniture dark and heavy. It was a restful room, a haven from the harshness of life at sea, and both Noah and Lyle were enjoying the small bit of peace they’d found there.

“All the arrangements have been made,” Noah was saying as he handed the contracts over to Lyle.

“How soon do we load?” the captain asked, one hand stroking his bushy, gray-streaked beard thoughtfully as he quickly perused the documents. At fifty years of age, Lyle Russell had spent most of his adult years working for Kincade Shipping. He had been shocked by his good friend Lord Thomas’s death and by the subsequent revelations concerning the nobleman’s overwhelming debts. The sale of the shipping firm had seemed almost a physical blow to him, and he was determined to help Lord Noah as much as he could.

“The Lorelei will berth and start loading the day after tomorrow,” Noah informed him. “The Sea Pride is another matter entirely.”

“Oh? Is there a problem?” Lyle extracted the contract for the merchant ship from the sheaf of papers he held and read it over carefully, surprise registering on his face as he noted what type of merchandise the Pride would be carrying. “I didn’t know you were planning on shipping war materials…”

“It’s a risky move on my part, but the payoff could be substantial.”

“There’s a market for the goods?”

“According to those I talked with who were in authority, there is a kettle of unrest brewing in the colonies, and violence could break out there at any time. Should that happen, agents here agreed that a shipment of arms could be very profitable.”

“It is a daring plan, but if you stand to reap a suitable reward for your efforts, I see no reason to hesitate.” The ship’s captain nodded in approval of the younger man’s farsightedness as his gaze rested warmly upon him. As aggressive and determined as Lord Noah was, perhaps the recovery of the lost Kincade fortunes was not as impossible as it seemed.

“Either way there’s a pound to be made, and who knows? Maybe His Majesty’s troops will be in desperate need of cannon and shot by the time we arrive. That could jack the asking price up considerably. I certainly see no reason why we shouldn’t make every effort to take advantage of the situation.” Noah’s eyes glinted, at the thought of the full purse he could conceivably earn. “According to the agent I dealt with, however, the Pride won’t be able to load for some weeks, and that puts us dangerously close to the winter season on the North Atlantic.”

“There’s no reason why the Lorelei has to remain in wait. Why don’t we sail on ahead? You can make the necessary contacts in the colonies, and by the time the Pride arrives, all will be in readiness.”

“How soon can you be ready to sail?”

“If the loading is completed on schedule, we can probably set sail within four days.”

“That will be fine.” Noah stood and started toward the door of the cabin. “I’ve yet to tell Matt the news, so I had better return to the inn and let him know.”

“You’ll be there, should I need you?”

“Yes. We’ll remain in our rented quarters there until you dock to load, then we’ll come aboard.” Absorbed in his thoughts, Noah forgot his bandaged hand and reached out for the doorknob. He grimaced at the painful contact.

“Your hand…Are you all right?” Lyle asked with quick concern.

Noah glanced up to meet his captain’s worried regard and he slanted him a cunning smile. “I think, for the first time in quite a while, Lyle, that I’m going to be just fine.” And for the first time since he had learned the complete, devastating truth, he believed it.

It was growing late and the taproom in the inn was becoming increasingly crowded and noisy. Noah took little notice, though, as he sat at a secluded table in a back corner of the room, his expression pensive as he drank deeply from his tankard of ale. Matthew had retired to their rooms earlier and Noah was taking advantage of the time alone to sort out his thoughts about their upcoming voyage to the Americas.

Though he’d heard much about the colonies, Noah had never had any desire to visit them. Now, fate had intervened. Within six weeks he would find himself aboard the Lorelei docking in Boston City of the Massachusetts Colony. The thought did not lighten his spirits. The trip was a necessary evil, and he would tolerate the inconvenience only because of the money to be made. His goal was to return to England in the spring with his pockets well lined. He knew that one successful trip would not restore all his lost inheritance, but once he made the necessary business contacts in Boston, he was confident that their future would be bright.

Noah was so deeply lost in thought that he did not notice the stranger approach his table. It was only when the man spoke that he glanced up.

“Lord Noah Kincade?” the man asked.

“Yes. I’m Lord Kincade,” Noah responded, wondering at the interruption and frowning a bit as he cautiously assessed his visitor. The stranger was tall, but not overly so. His coloring was swarthy, and the clothes he wore were clean and well cared for, yet essentially nondescript. He was the type of man who could blend in with a crowd and never really be noticed. The man appeared slightly nervous, as if he was constantly on guard, and his dark eyes shifted uneasily about the room.

“May I join you, my lord? It’s important.” The stranger leaned slightly forward as he added the last in an undertone.

“Oh? I don’t know you, sir, and I fail to see how we could have any important business to conduct.”

“The fact that you don’t know me is irrelevant,” he said cryptically. “The business we have to conduct concerns your ship the Sea Pride, my lord.”