Simply Anna Page 18
The idea came so suddenly that Anna stopped with her foot in the air. It was obvious, but could she convince Philip? She had been extremely bold today, first with her endorsement of Tom’s coffee farm and then in her negotiations with the pirates. Neither was something a woman in her position—or in any position—should have presumed to do, and she should just keep walking right up to her bedchamber and leave these matters to those in authority. She ran her finger along the crease in the wooden handrail, knowing she wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about it if she didn’t at least make the suggestion. She would always wonder if her idea could have helped. She turned and sat on the steps to wait for Philip.
It was not long before he entered with Ezekiel trailing, offering to assist him in preparing for bed.
His brows rose when he saw her on the stairs. “Anna, you are still awake?”
She rose and stepped down the steps to stand before him. She smiled at Ezekiel, who moved to stand against the wall, precisely as a perfect footman would do. She clasped her hands in front of her. “I wanted to speak to you for a moment.”
“Of course.” He held his hand toward the parlour.
Anna shook her head. “It will only be a moment. I have an idea. I know I am too often sticking my nose where it does not belong, and you may not agree with me, but—”
“I consider your opinions very carefully, Anna. What is your idea?”
His sureness boosted her confidence. She lifted her chin and raised her eyes to his. “I think you should employ the pirates.”
Chapter 19
Philip drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair. His gaze moved around the drawing room, and he observed each of the individuals he’d summoned to participate in the conference: Tom sat on the settee with his foot splinted and bound, a crutch lying on the floor next to him. He had apparently not slept well; smudges shone dark beneath his eyes, and his face seemed pale. Captain Courtney and Mr. Blackbird sat in armchairs, looking unsure of how to behave and why they were in the drawing room at all. Malachi stood against the wall on the far side of the room, even though Philip had offered him a seat. His one arm was bandaged and the other in a sling. Philip studied him, wishing he had that man’s calm. Malachi seemed to possess self-assurance in every situation, though Philip could see a bit of confusion in his eyes as he no doubt wondered why he had been asked to attend the meeting.
The men stood as Anna entered.
She looked around with her brows drawn together and gave a small smile to the gathering. She rubbed a hand on her arm as though she were nervous. But this was her idea, and he had insisted that she propose it to the group. The pirates, at least, seemed to listen to her. And since the proposition heavily involved them, it couldn’t hurt to appeal to their—especially their captain’s—tender feelings for Anna.
Philip had observed the way Mr. Blackbird slipped into the jungle and returned with reconnaissance without alerting their enemies, the sure way Captain Courtney led his men, and the arsenal of weapons the buccaneers carried. All of this had made him think that just maybe . . . But it wasn’t until Anna suggested it that the notion became an idea and then a full-fledged plan; he’d thought of little else the entire night.
Anna greeted each of the men, and Philip indicated for them to be seated.
He remained standing. “Thank you for meeting with us,” he said, speaking specifically to the pirates and then turning his head to nod at Tom and Malachi. “Oakely Park is under threat, and we—well, I shall allow Miss Anna to explain.” He gave Anna a smile, holding out his hand in an invitation for her to join him, nodding his head in encouragement.
She moved her gaze around the room, opening her mouth and then closing it; then she stood and moved next to him, speaking softly. “I do not know if—”
He leaned closer to speak in her ear. “This was your idea, Miss Trouser-Bargainer.”
She clasped her hands behind her back and darted another look to him. Anna took a deep breath. “Gentlemen, you know that highwaymen have made the road to Port Antonio impassable. The only other route from Oakely Park to a seaport leads through the Blue Mountains, and it is obviously too dangerous to transport goods by that road because of bands of Maroons and buccaneers living in the hills.” She smiled at Captain Courtney and Mr. Blackbird apologetically.
Both men nodded their agreement. They obviously knew the perilous state of the road as they were likely responsible in part for making it so.
“Lord Philip and all of us at Oakely Park would therefore like to ask for your assistance, sirs. With your band and weapons, we should be able to apprehend the”—Captain Courtney leaned forward, shaking his head. Anna furrowed her brow and continued in a less-confident voice—“highwaymen who threaten—”
She was interrupted again when the captain cleared his throat and held up a hand to stop her words. He stood. “I am truly sorry, but it is impossible.” He glanced at Mr. Blackbird, whose expression had remained unchanged since the moment he entered the room. The Indian brave sat straight-backed and still, watching his captain. “If it were up to me, I’d do anythin’ you asked, Lady Anna. But the Brethren of the Coast operate as a democracy. I already lost a good ransom yesterday because I was blinded by yer charms. The men, they’ll not be convinced to offer assistance again.” He bowed, his eyes and nose wrinkled in an apology. “I’m sorry, but I can tell ya now, ’twould result in a mutiny, and I’ve no desire to lose my position—or my life.” He jerked his head to the side, motioning for Mr. Blackbird to rise. “I thank ye for the breakfast, and the libations, and ’twas a delight meetin’ ya, my lady, but we’ll take our leave now.”
“Captain, please, if only you would ask—” Anna began.
“We believe they have a boat,” Philip interrupted. “They’ve taken fifty hogshead from me, and according to the bookkeepers, at least another three plantations have lost goods on their journey to Port Antonio. All of that cargo needs to be transported somehow. Braithwaite wouldn’t risk taking it through the Blue Mountains with his small band. The army in Port Antonio is unable to assist us, and as I have no crew to sail a ship loaded with sugar, treacle and”—he glanced at Captain Courtney and saw he had the man’s undivided attention. He played his final card—“rum.” He drew the word out slowly, not missing the gleam in the pirate’s eye.
The captain leaned forward in his chair. “You assume there is a vessel, but you have no proof?”
Philip nodded his head once. “We have none. That is the wager. There are most certainly hundreds of pounds worth of goods hidden on the Landon Grove property. Once the band is abolished, you will profit with or without the boat. Either way, once the highwaymen are conquered, you’ll have the stolen goods. I would, however, appreciate it if my mules and horses were returned.”
“But if there is a boat . . .” Captain Courtney stared at a spot on the carpet, tapping his finger on his lip. “Plenty o’ hidden coves to conceal it,” he muttered. After a long moment, he raised his gaze. “And what of the other plantation owners? Have they attempted to apprehend the highwaymen?”
“I do not know,” Philip confessed. “Dr. Bevan told me this morning that they have taken the same measures as I, speaking with the constable and the colonel at the fort, but were met with the same reply. The local law enforcement does not have the strength to confront the band, and the army is guarding the fort from an attack they fear could come from French forces at Hispaniola at any moment.” He watched as the captain shrewdly internalized each of these facts. He may have told too much information to the wrong person—enemies of the crown, and he had just told them that law enforcement on this side of the island was practically nonexistent. But he was asking for their assistance, and they would need to understand that they had his trust.
“I will consult with my men if you don’t mind, my lord,” Captain Courtney said.
Philip’s hopes rose in a wave of anxious energy. “Of course. I would not ask you to enter into any sort of agreement without their consent.”
Captain Courtney excused himself and exited the room with Mr. Blackbird following behind.
Anna sank into a chair once they’d left. “I do not know if they will help us. And if not, then whatever will we do?”
The battering ram struck Philip’s armaments again. He was touched beyond measure by her disheartened expression and the knowledge that Anna considered his problems to be her own. If only they were. If only the two of them were partners caring for Oakely Park together. If only . . . It seemed that where Anna was concerned, “If only” was his most commonly used phrase.
He sat in the chair next to her. “I think the possibility of a ship and barrels of goods, not to mention the rum, will convince them. What do you think, Tom?” He’d nearly forgotten that Tom and Malachi were in the room. Both had remained silent during the meeting.
“I do not know, my lord. I . . .” Tom rubbed the back of his neck, looking away from Anna’s direction.
“Speak, sir. If you have a concern, please do not keep it to yourself.”
Tom glanced back at Anna before he spoke. His eyes were tight. “I know Miss Anna trusts the pirates, and I mean no disrespect, but as one with experience on the island, I think we should be wary. There is a reason buccaneers are hung at the ports and their bodies left as warnings to others who might dare to imitate their methods. They are villains who would betray us at the first chance.”
Philip was surprised. He’d not known Tom to speak so forcefully about anything—aside from coffee. He was surprised not only at the words but their tone. He seemed not only worried but indignant, and the overseer seemed to be directing the majority of his anger toward Anna. He wondered if Tom felt betrayed that Philip had consulted with Anna instead of him.
“I understand your concern, but try as I might, I cannot think of another plan. And while I myself do not mind avoiding Port Antonio, if we are to turn a profit, we must sell our harvest. I agree that we could be in danger from the pirates—”
“No, they would never—” Anna began.
Philip kept speaking, “But, we did all sleep safe in our beds last night and were not murdered in our sleep. None of our sugar was stolen, and . . . I agree with Anna. The Brethren do not seem averse to using illegal means to achieve their ends, but they seem to be honorable and loyal once they’ve given their word.”
“I still think it is a mistake,” Tom said.
“Please tell me if you can think of another way. I am open to propositions. If we do not sell the rest of our harvest, Oakely Park will be lost.”
Tom grumbled something and turned away.
Philip was concerned about Tom’s reaction. He had already lost one overseer. Tom’s main objection seemed to be to the companions and not the plan, and Philip had some of the same worries. Could he trust the pirates? Did he have a choice? He turned to the remaining person in the room. “Malachi, what is your thought?”
The large man studied him with his dark eyes. “I do no’ wan’ anymo’ people to die, sah. The ol’ busha, he shou’ be stopped.”
A simple answer, Philip thought, but it had gotten directly to the heart of the matter. “While Horace Braithwaite roams free, each of us is in danger, as is the property. The man is purely evil and has a personal vendetta to settle with me. He did not hesitate to needlessly kill an entire gang of my workers to enact his revenge; he will certainly not stop waylaying our supplies until Oakely Park sinks. He seems to have somehow found others who share his thirst for violence, and Malachi is correct—they must be stopped.”
Malachi nodded his head once, but that was the only answer he made to Philip’s speech. Tom looked resigned, which Philip guessed to be a victory. He turned to Anna.
Her lips were set in a line, and her brow furrowed. He wondered if she had understood the direness of the circumstances before now.
“Do not worry, Anna,” Philip said, wishing he had not spoken so boldly, yet in the same instant knowing that Anna was not the type of woman to be sheltered from the truth.
She nodded and looked as though she would reply when Betty opened the drawing room door and admitted Captain Courtney and Mr. Blackbird.
“We will do it,” the captain said before he’d even reached his chair.
“Oh, thank you, Captain,” Anna breathed. She pressed her hands to her heart, a gesture that made the captain’s eyes turn wistful once again.
Philip felt the exact sentiment but maintained his expression. It was not the time to become overly emotional. “I thank you, sirs.”
The captain stepped closer and sat facing Philip. Mr. Blackbird sat next to him. “We will apprehend the highwaymen on the road to Port Antonio and make sure they’re not able to continue waylaying shipments from the plantations—either by dispatching them or delivering them to the authorities—your choice, my lord.”
Philip nodded.
“In return, we will take the hidden barrels near the river in Landon Grove, and with luck, a ship that is hidden in a cove on the northwest shore. I would ask you not to tell the constable nor the other plantation owners the location of the stolen barrels for at least two days to give us time to relocate our fee. And you will not mention the possibility of a ship to anyone.”
Philip stood and held out his hand. “We have an agreement, sir.”
Captain Courtney stood and shook his hand. The pirate’s eyes were solemn, and Philip knew they had just made a buccaneer’s oath.
The captain stepped back and resumed his seat. “Have ya a plan then, my lord?”
Philip sat and then leaned forward in his chair, rubbing his palms together. “I have never undertaken an operation such as this, as you very likely can tell, but I believe it is logical to assume that the highwaymen will attack a group of slaves with a caravan of merchandise since they have done so at least four times.”
“And ya want us to follow, out of sight, and when the band is attacked—” Captain Courtney clapped his hands together with a loud smack, grinning.
Philip saw Anna jump at the sound. “Yes and no. My workers are not warriors, Captain. They have no training, no weapons, no experience. To send them unarmed would be signing their death warrants, and I’ll not do that.” He glanced at Malachi and saw the man was watching him thoughtfully, but no other expression crossed his face.
“So ya want us to wait and hope a group of slaves from another plantation happens to pass?” The pirate furrowed his brow. “We could be waiting for a week, my lord. Even longer.”
Philip shook his head. “You and your band will be the slaves.” Captain Courtney’s brows shot up, but Philip continued before he could speak. He’d formulated the plan in the early hours of the morning and hoped the others would not think it foolish. “Undoubtedly, some will need to follow behind in secret, but I’d like your men to drive the wagonloads toward Port Antonio.”
“You do not think the bandits are so daft they’d believe we were slaves?”
“You would need disguises, of course. Hats pulled low, a change of clothing. But the road is lined by trees and shadowed, and I noticed many of your men have very sun-darkened skin. I think the bandits will be fooled, if only briefly, which is all we need. And with weapons hidden among the barrels, we will be ready for an ambush.”
“We, my lord?” Tom said.
From the corner of his eye, Philip saw Anna’s face snap toward him and her mouth open. He didn’t give her a chance to speak. “I will accompany you. I would not ask men to risk their lives for my interests if I myself am not willing to do so.”
“But, Philip.” Anna’s voice was soft. “Horace Braithwaite, he will single you out. You cannot . . .” She pressed her lips together and blinked quickly.
He knew she did not want to say more in front of the others. And truthfully he had the same fears. But it was his responsibility to see it through. He was not the same man who’d left London. Working on the plantation had strengthened him. His jackets were tight around his arms and shoulders. And it was not just physically that he’d changed.
He knew he could not depend on others to do the job just because he was the master of the plantation. He felt a duty and an obligation to Oakely Park as well as to the men who would defend it.
He forced a teasing smile to his lips. “Miss, you have so little faith in my combat abilities? I’ll have you know that not every gentleman in London worries only about fashionable waistcoats or drinking tea at garden parties. My sword master was quite proud of my skills, and I did study pugilism under Gentleman John Jackson. I am not completely useless in a fight.” He hoped she couldn’t see his real fear. He had never fought in an actual battle where his life was on the line.
“I did not mean to imply—I am sorry, my lord. I just . . .”
He tipped his head and winked. “You just forgot that yesterday I killed a crocodile? I thought that was quite heroic. And I did protect you from the butterfly.”
“No, of course, sir. I apologize.” Anna turned her gaze to her hands in her lap. Her jaw was clenched, and she swallowed hard. His teasing had not allayed her fears.
Philip felt guilty for making light of her concerns. Horace no doubt had designs on him as she feared, but he had a deeper worry—he had seen the expression on his former overseer’s face when he stared at Anna. As Malachi said, the man needed to be stopped. If his reign of terror was not ended, Philip had no doubt that Horace had designs on Anna, and the very idea sent panic through his chest. He would see to it once and for all that this was ended. His plantation, his workers, and his Anna—Anna, he corrected himself—would be safe.
“We’ll need a strategy. Tell me what ya know about this band then. How do they fight?” Captain Courtney asked. “What weapons ’ave they?”
Philip waved Malachi closer. “Malachi survived their last attack.”
Anna stood quickly, and the men rose as well, Tom with an enormous grunt. “I apologize. If you’ll excuse me, I shall assist Betty with the noon meal.” She hurried from the room without looking back.