“You seem to have changed much in a year.”
“A year? What is a year? All time is relative. One day may be a lifetime, a year can be forever. It is not the number of days but what goes into those days.
“I was a young girl. I was free, independent, unrestrained… often, I am afraid, disobedient. Suddenly I was a prisoner, and life was nothing to be accepted day by day as I had been doing. I was to be sold as a slave, and the realization was not pleasant. I had decisions to make, and quickly if I was to survive at all.
“My friend, he who was blinded because of me, warned me of what I might expect, slavery to some brute on an outlying plantation, then sold to a brothel when I became tiresome. It was plain that if I were to survive I must think.”
“You became quite a woman.”
“Who is in love with her husband.”
I flushed. “I did not mean—”
“I know you did not. I simply wanted it understood. I will do nothing that will create difficulty for him.”
“Does Bauer know where you are now? To whom you are married?”
“I think not. I was nobody to be concerned with, merely another body to be shuffled off for a price. Neither was present when I was put up for auction, and there were few present, mostly from other islands. Anyway, I look much different now. Nonetheless, I do not underrate the man.”
“I had hoped to get a sworn statement from you that I could use against Pittingel.”
“Impossible. What I will do is whatever I can, as long as I do not have to appear.”
“Thank you.” I started to turn away when a question stopped me.
“The two girls who escaped? Who were they?”
“Diana Macklin and Carrie Penney. My brother is married to Temperance Penney.”
“We were friends, although her family did not approve.” She smiled suddenly, amused at herself. “I was considered headstrong.”
She frowned suddenly. “I liked Diana. Although we did not often talk, we were friends. I worried about her, for people were suspicious of her. She was brighter than the others and more independent.”
Briefly I explained something of the situation in the time since she had left. Knowing all concerned, it was easy for her to understand all that had taken place. As I talked, I found myself admiring her very much. Here was a girl who had literally lifted herself from adversity and worse simply by using her wits. Admittedly there was a good deal of luck in having such a man as Legare come to the sale, yet who could guess what else she might have contrived had it been some other?
“They know you, then? Be careful. Augustus Jayne warned me they were in Port Royal. They come here often, but I do so but rarely. You must be careful.”
“And you?”
“Do not worry about me.” She held out her hand, then turned toward a rear door. “We have an enemy in common, at least. Go now. I must get away from here without being seen.” Again she paused. “Do not worry about me. I have friends here and protection. I cannot help you in the way you would like, but I shall not rest until they are destroyed.”
She spoke quite calmly, but I needed no seer to tell me she spoke the truth. Young she might be, but she had been through the fires, and there was steel in her.
Back in the front shop there were two men now, seated cross-legged on a table, sewing. Augustus Jayne was nowhere about, and at the door my eyes swept the street.
It was crowded with sailors from the ships, pirates, and with an occasional planter from the back country or a soldier in uniform and a liberal assortment of blacks, some of them showing signs of Carib blood.
A drunken sailor, reeking of rum, staggered past, leaning for a moment against a post. In his ear was a ring, sparkling with diamonds. On the fingers of the hand nearest me he wore three others, gold and gems. He caught my glance and bared his broken teeth in what passed for a smile. “Got more where them come from! I got a-plenty!” With that he staggered on.
Looking up, I caught the eyes of a sour-looking man with a black forelock and a scar on his cheekbone. The same blow must have taken the tip of his ear, too, for it was missing. As our eyes met, he looked quickly away. Why? His expression had been almost guilty.
A heavy cart drawn by two oxen was coming along the street, piled high with barrels. Suddenly I ducked across in front of it, so close the oxen almost broke stride, and their driver cursed me roundly. For an instant the cart and its load barred any view of me, and I ducked instantly into a small shop and made my way toward the rear.
A glance back showed not one but two men dart across the street. The man with the scar started up the street; the other one turned down.
Only a moment and they would be back, looking in here. I went to the back of the shop, and a man stepped before me. “You would be wanting something?”
“To see the owner,” I said, “at once!”
He hesitated, not liking me but obviously impressed by my appearance. “Well … wait, then.”
He turned and went through a curtain at the back. Again I looked back. Nothing … yet.
After what seemed a long time, the clerk reappeared. “This way, Captain,” he said.
Time, I needed time, if only a few minutes. I went through the curtain and saw a man in square-cut glasses looking up at me. He was a short, fat man with a round, almost completely bald head. He had a small, tight little mouth that I instantly distrusted, but that was of no importance now.
“What is it?” he demanded irritably. “I’ve no time for—”
“I was told,” I suggested, “that you were a man who might have something to sell.” I paused just a moment. “Something other than that claptrap out there,” I jerked my head toward the front of the store.
He sat back in his chair and stared at me. His eyes were cold and cruel. He was not a man with whom I should have liked to deal. “Now who could have told you that?” He stared at me. “I know naught of you. If you have business to do with me, there’s the store out front. I thought you was somebody else when I told them to put you back to me. Now be off.”
It had been only a minute. The spies, killers, whoever they were, might be out front this moment.
“There are gems,” I said, “and then there are real gems. I look for the odd thing, the unusual thing, and I can arrange payment.”
He shuffled papers on his desk. “I’ve naught,” he said gruffly, “and there’s fifty people about who might.” He peered up at me from his fat-lidded eyes. “Who was it sent you to me? I’ll no talk no more until you tell me.”
Only one name came to mind. “Pittingel,” I said, “although I doubt he’d want his name mentioned.”
Slowly he put his quill down. “Pittingel? Now what would he be telling of me? What, indeed? And to whom?”
“I’m lately from the Carolinas,” I said, “and before that from Mexico.”
I hoped he would not ask after Mexico, for I knew nothing of the place.
“What is it you’d be wanting?”
“It is as I said. Gems … a big one, or two. Gold, if it is hand crafted and not melted down.” I was doing what I could to keep off the street until they should have decided I was far away.
“Gems!” he shrugged. “There be enough of those about, taken from Spanish vessels.” He waved a hand. “Go ask about. You’ll find a pretty lot of them!”
“I look for only one or two, large stones,” I added. “I have a market but only for the large ones.”
Abruptly I turned away. “I waste time. This is no place. I was informed—”
“Aye,” he said dryly, “and of that I would know more. Pittingel, you said? I scarce know the man, so would he send you to me? Or anybody for that matter.”
“I’ll go,” I said. “I came to talk business-”
“And you shall,” he said quietly. “Talk business, indeed! Do you take me for a fool? You’re a spy! A bleeding spy!”
He snorted. “Pittingel, indeed! Aye, I know the man, but he knows little enough of me! And you to come with such a story, to me of all people! ‘A large stone,’ he says! Aye, is it a likely thing to come into such a place as mine, which sells sailors’ truck and such, looking for gems?”