The Daredevil Snared (The Adventurers Quartet Book 3) Page 8

  He frowned. “I need you to tell me about Dubois—about how he manages the camp and all of you.”

  She hesitated, her gaze on his face. His handsome face, but this time, she looked beyond the glamour. “First...will you tell me your name, please?”

  He met her eyes, then he stepped back and swept her a bow. “Captain Caleb Frobisher, of Frobisher Shipping Company, sailing out of Aberdeen.” Despite his level tone, as he straightened, he waggled his brows at her.

  She nearly laughed in surprise, threw him a mock-disapproving look instead, but the silly byplay reassured her. “Hopkins and Fanshawe thought that was who you were.”

  “Ah, of course. I don’t know them personally, but they would know my older brothers.”

  She peered into the shadows behind him. “Diccon said you had twenty-four men with you.”

  Caleb grinned down at Diccon, who had remained beside Katherine and was staring up at Caleb with rapt attention. “That’s correct, but most are busy burying some weapons in a cache by the lake, and others are watching the compound or guarding our camp. I only brought one man with me—a friend, another captain, who I’m grateful saw fit to join me in this mission.” He returned his gaze to Katherine’s face. “With your permission?”

  When she nodded, he waved to Phillipe to join them.

  Phillipe walked out of the jungle. Caleb performed the introductions—and discovered he wasn’t all that happy to have to watch Phillipe bow over Miss Fortescue’s hand and press a kiss to her knuckles.

  He knew it was just Phillipe’s way, yet...

  But on retrieving her hand with no more than a polite smile, Miss Fortescue immediately returned her bright hazel eyes to Caleb’s face. “Weapons?”

  He felt oddly mollified. “Indeed.” He looked at Diccon. “Perhaps you’d better gather more fruit so that you can go back with Miss Fortescue. She only has another twenty minutes or so left.”

  Diccon flashed Caleb a swift grin. “All right. Will you still be here?”

  “Yes.” Caleb looked around and spotted a fallen log; he pointed to it. “We’ll be over there.”

  “Right-o!” Diccon smiled at Miss Fortescue. “There’s a big berry bush I passed yesterday nearer to the lake. I’ll be back in no time.”

  “I’ll wait for you.” Miss Fortescue watched Diccon run off, then she looked at Caleb. “Sadly, there’s no need to protect him. He told us he thought that you and your men had killed Kale and his slavers. Is that correct?”

  Caleb kept his gaze on Diccon’s dwindling figure. “We didn’t just kill Kale and his crew—we wiped all sign of them from this earth.” He looked back and met Miss Fortescue’s pretty hazel eyes without apology. “That’s where the weapons come from.”

  Her gaze remained steady on his face. “Once that news is known in the compound, you’ll be feted as a hero. For all of us, Kale was the instigator of our captivity.”

  Caleb hesitated, then said, “He might have been the one who arranged your kidnappings, but the instigators...sadly, they’re closer to home.” He saw the questions leap to her eyes, but forced himself to wave them aside—to wave her to the fallen log. “You don’t have much time, and there’s a lot of information we need, as well as news we should impart.”

  She nodded and accompanied him to the log. He reached for her hand—felt the delicate bones under his larger, stronger fingers; he gripped gently and handed her to the log. She drew in her skirts and sat, with an unconscious grace that would have done credit to a ton drawing room.

  Rather than sit beside her—he wasn’t at all sure that would be a good idea, Phillipe’s presence notwithstanding—Caleb sat on the ground facing her, and Phillipe fluidly sat alongside him.

  The instant they’d settled, she asked, “What do you need to know?”

  Caleb thought of all they’d seen and noticed about the captives. “How does Dubois run the camp?”

  She held his gaze. “By intimidation.”

  Phillipe frowned. “How so? We haven’t seen any sign of aggression from him toward any of those he holds.”

  “He doesn’t need to convince us of anything.” Miss Fortescue’s slim fingers twined, then gripped. “Let me tell you the tale those who were the first to be brought to the compound told me.”

  In an even tone, with no real inflection, she proceeded to tell them of an act of violence, of viciousness, that made them both pale under their tans and tied their stomachs in knots. Caleb literally felt nauseated.

  She concluded, “That girl was the only captive lost to us.” She paused, then went on, “Dixon, Harriet Frazier, Hopkins, and Fanshawe, as well as several of the men and quite a few of the children, were here at the time. Subsequently, if there’s the slightest sign of resistance, Dubois will pick some scapegoat and make threats—quietly, calmly, and utterly cold-bloodedly. And every one of us knows he’ll carry out those threats to the letter if we give him the excuse. Beneath his outwardly controlled demeanor lurks a monster.”

  Her expression bleak, she met Caleb’s gaze. “That’s how he controls us. He never threatens the one he wants to cow, but whoever he believes that person is closest to—that person’s emotional Achilles’ heel.”

  “Like he threatens Diccon with his friends’ lives?” Caleb asked.

  She nodded. “Exactly. So we do what we must to survive—to keep all of us alive. We do what he asks, exactly what he asks...but no more than that.” She straightened her spine and lifted her chin. “But that doesn’t mean we’re not actively fighting him—we just fight in a different way.”

  Caleb had to admire her quiet dignity. “How so?”

  “We’ve been trying to work out a way to escape, all of us together, but how to deal with the mercenaries is a problem we’ve yet to solve. In the meantime...we let Dubois believe he manages the mine, but in reality, in that respect, we manage him. He’s truly complacent over his hold on us—and in the way he thinks of it, that’s understandable enough. He’s clever and intelligent, and used to succeeding, but like many people who are very sure of themselves, he doesn’t appreciate what he doesn’t know.”

  She looked from Caleb to Phillipe, then returned her gaze to Caleb’s face. “In this case, what Dubois doesn’t know is how a mine really operates. His understanding of that is very limited. Once Hillsythe arrived...he saw it and explained how we could use Dubois’s lack of real knowledge against him and so manage how fast the diamonds are mined.” She paused and drew in a breath. “We all know that once the diamonds run out, the mine will be closed, and we’ll all be killed. Even the children understand that—they might be young, but they’re from the slums, and when it comes to survival, they’re very quick. So we manage the output from the mine with a view to eking it out for long enough for us to find some way to escape.”

  Caleb nodded decisively. “That’s going to fit nicely with our mission. We’re here to learn the location of the camp and ensure that gets back to London. Whatever else we can learn of the mine, of Dubois and his men and the overall operation, will assist mightily in formulating a viable rescue mission, which, as I understand it and now fully expect, will be the next stage.”

  She frowned. “This rescue force will come from London?” When Caleb nodded, she asked, “Why? Why hasn’t anyone from the settlement come to find us? Why can’t the soldiers from the fort or the men from the navy ships come to free us?”

  Caleb grimaced. “That’s what I alluded to earlier—the villains closer to home. We know there are several—more than one, most likely more than two—people in positions of authority in the settlement who are actively involved in this.” He met her gaze. “Lady Holbrook was one. She’s now fled the colony, but we know there are others still in place. The naval attaché, Muldoon, plays an active part, but who his coconspirators are is at present unknown, so we can’t afford to raise a force from the settlement. By the time s
uch a force reaches here...to be blunt, it’s likely all the captives in the compound will have been executed, any evidence in the compound destroyed, and Dubois and his men will be long gone.”

  She’d paled slightly, but her expression hardened, and she nodded. “I understand. That makes sense of the silence until now.”

  Caleb hurried to add, “That’s not to say that those kidnapped have been forgotten by their friends in the settlement. Rather, because of the activity of the villains and their associates, said friends have been unable to get anything done. For instance, the Sherbrooks haven’t forgotten you, but their pleas to Governor Holbrook were turned aside, Holbrook having been duped by his wife.” Concisely—and speaking ever more rapidly—he gave her a severely edited account of his brother Declan’s mission, followed by that of his brother Robert, the sum of what they’d discovered, and the conclusions that had been drawn. “So, you see, it’s imperative that we get news of the mine’s location plus as much information about Dubois’s operation as we can back to London, so that an effective rescue can be launched with all speed from there.”

  She nodded. “I cannot tell you how...heartening it is to know that there are people who care and who are working to free us. That someone—some group—understands the situation and is truly committed to getting us out of this jungle alive.” She hesitated, then more quietly said, “We’d almost lost hope, but this news will give everyone heart again.”

  “That’s all to the good,” Caleb said, “but please make sure everyone understands that even with us sending word as fast as any ship can go, it’s going to be weeks yet before any rescue force can reach here.”

  “How long, exactly?”

  He frowned. “I suspect it’ll be at least a month.”

  Phillipe snorted. “Even with your family’s ships, it’ll be more like six weeks.”

  Caleb caught Katherine’s gaze. “Do you think you and the others will be able to stretch the mining out that long?”

  She sat straighter. “Obviously, we’ll have to. I’m sure with rescue pending, we’ll manage somehow.”

  Phillipe looked at Caleb. “You should check the list of the missing.”

  “Ah—yes.” Caleb drew his notebook from his pocket and flipped it open. “These are the people known to have gone missing from Freetown. Obviously, we haven’t got all the names, but by the same token, we don’t know if all these people were kidnapped for the mine.” He read down the list.

  Katherine confirmed each and every name. When he came to the end, she reiterated, “All of those people are at the mine and still alive. As I said, the only one lost was that young girl. She was called Daisy. None of the others who were kidnapped know her full name. Of course, we’ve had accidents and injuries, but Dubois is motivated to keep us alive and functioning so we can continue to produce diamonds as swiftly as possible, and his current difficulty in getting more men—let alone replacements—ensures he continues to treat us well.” She lifted a shoulder. “Essentially, he can’t afford not to.”

  Phillipe shot Caleb a glance. “That’s what’s behind the medical hut.”

  When Katherine nodded, Caleb said, “Diccon will be back any minute. Is there anything more—any insights you can share—that will help us better understand what’s happening in the camp?”

  She hesitated for only a heartbeat, then said, “There’s a stalemate of sorts operating at the moment, holding everything in check. Dubois is under increasing pressure to produce more diamonds more quickly—as we interpret it, to mine out the deposit as fast as possible, so that those behind the scheme can order us all killed and protect themselves from any risk of exposure.”

  Caleb grimaced. “That’s almost certainly correct.”

  “Against that, however—and you need to understand that Dubois never cares if we overhear his discussions with his men—we know he, Dubois, has been stymied in pushing ahead by a lack of more men. He’s been calling for more for weeks, but Kale hasn’t been supplying as many as Dubois needs.” Her lips curved with satisfaction. “And now, of course, Kale won’t be supplying any more at all.”

  Phillipe pulled a face. “We’ll have to see how that plays out. Dubois doesn’t strike me as the sort to let Kale’s disappearance stop him for long.”

  “No,” she admitted with a dip of her head. “But it will slow things down even further, which is all to our good. Dubois doesn’t dare push us—the workers he already has—too hard for fear of accidents and injuries, which will only result in lower production. So he’s caught—he has to simply wait for more men. That helps us keep production from the mine at what we hope will be a safely low level.”

  Diccon appeared, sliding through the palms.

  They all rose. Caleb felt a flaring impulse to reach for Katherine Fortescue’s hand; he thrust both his hands into his breeches pockets instead. “Last question—I assume all those held captive have elected a leader. Who is it?”

  “We actually have two—Dixon and Hillsythe. Dixon manages the mine, and Hillsythe plots our way. The others—their lieutenants, I suppose—are Lieutenants Hopkins and Fanshawe, and I speak for the women and children.”

  Caleb spared a smile for Diccon, but immediately returned his gaze to Katherine Fortescue’s face. “If there’s any way to do it, I would like reports from Dixon and Hillsythe. They’ll know what’s needed, and such reports would be invaluable.”

  She nodded. “I’ll ask.” She paused, then added, “Given the reports will have to be done in secret, they will almost certainly take more than a day to prepare.” She met Caleb’s gaze. “I’ll come out again the day after tomorrow. If Dixon and Hillsythe have the reports ready, I’ll bring them then.”

  “Thank you.” Caleb bent and picked up her basket. He handed it to her. “One thing—please stress to everyone concerned that at no point should they do anything to arouse suspicion.”

  She nodded and turned to Diccon. She took his hand, then glanced at Caleb. “Thank you.” Her gaze moved briefly to include Phillipe, then returned to Caleb’s face. “I’ll see you in two days.”

  She turned away, and she and Diccon started toward the compound.

  Caleb and Phillipe watched them go, then once the pair were far enough ahead, started trailing behind.

  They halted deep in the jungle shadows, well concealed from the guards on the gate, and watched Katherine Fortescue and Diccon walk stoically back into captivity.

  After a moment, Phillipe stirred. “She told us quite a lot. Dubois sounds...dangerous.”

  “Hmm. And this bind he’s in—more production on the one hand, no ability to achieve it on the other. That must be frustrating, yet he doesn’t seem to have lashed out.”

  “Which only proves my point,” Phillipe said. “Dangerous. Any man can play the bully. A sadistic bully who can control himself...that’s something else again.”

  Caleb grunted and turned away. “Let’s get back to the camp. I’d better start writing my own report, because heaven knows, these people need rescuing.”

  * * *

  After seeing Diccon on his way to the kitchen with his basket full of berries, Katherine reined in her giddy, rather scattered thoughts, mentally girded her loins, hefted her basket, and climbed the steps to the mercenaries’ barracks.

  She walked along the narrow porch to the single door, which lay toward the left of the front of the long building and was presently propped open. Dubois’s “office” lay beyond the door in the space at the end of the single room, separated from the bunk beds by a communal area with stools and low tables where the off-duty mercenaries lounged and played cards. Out of ingrained courtesy, she tapped on the door frame, waited for a heartbeat, then calmly walked in. She spared not a glance for the other mercenaries sprawled at their ease but fixed her gaze on Dubois’s desk and the man himself, leaning back in his chair behind it.

  There was
a wide window set in the side wall of the barracks. Through it, Dubois could see the entrance to the mine. He appeared to be staring moodily at that sight, but as she approached, he turned to study her.

  By anyone’s measure, he cut a commanding figure, with a powerful physique, thick dark hair, and even features. He had oddly pale hazel eyes; she often thought that cold steel had somehow got mixed into the hue. Hazel eyes weren’t usually chilling, but Dubois’s gaze certainly was.

  “Miss Fortescue.” Dubois didn’t smile, yet she detected amusement in his tone. Much like a cat viewing a potential mouse. His gaze fell to the basket. “I take it your foraging was successful?”

  “Indeed.” She placed the basket on the desk. “Here are your nuts. I quite enjoyed my time beyond the palisade, but I confess I hadn’t expected the atmosphere beneath the trees to be quite so oppressive.” She frowned as if somewhat chagrined. “I suspect I had better not indulge again tomorrow—not so soon.” She forced herself to meet his gaze. “Perhaps one of the other women might take my place and fetch nuts for you tomorrow?”

  Dubois’s lips eased. He reached out and pulled the basket toward him. “I don’t think that will be necessary. I believe I will be quite content with nuts delivered every second day.” He looked steadily at her. “By you.” He paused for a beat, then stated, “Thank you, Miss Fortescue. That will be all.”

  Katherine suppressed a derisive snort. She contented herself with a tiny, haughty inclination of her head, then she turned and left the room.

  The man made her skin crawl. His habit of trying to bait her—and the others who were well born, too—by subtly lording it over them added another layer of grating irritation.

  But they had all long ago resolved not to react—not to play the mouse to Dubois’s cat. As he enjoyed the hunt so much, he tended to let them go—the better to taunt them the next time.