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"Check your list of criminals for the name Winston." He stood unmoving.
"I'm likely there too."
"Is that Hugh Winston, sir?" Morris' eyes narrowed, and he glanced nervously at the three men behind him holding muskets. Then he looked back. "We most certainly have orders for your arrest. You've been identified as the gunnery commander for the rebels here, to say nothing of charges lodged against you in England. My first priority is Miss Bedford, but I'll be pleased to do double duty and arrest you as well."
"Fine. Now, see that pistol?" Winston thumbed toward the table. "Look it over carefully. There're two barrels, both primed. It's part of a pair. The other one is in my belt. That's four pistol b.a.l.l.s. The man who moves to arrest Miss Bedford gets the first. But if you make me start shooting, I'm apt to forget myself and not stop till I've killed you all. So why don't you leave now, Colonel Morris, and forget everything you saw here." He glanced back at Katherine. "I'm sure Miss Bedford is willing to forget she saw you. She's had a trying day."
"d.a.m.n your impudence, sir." Morris turned and gestured at the men behind him. "Go ahead and arrest her."
One of the helmeted infantrymen raised his flintlock and waved Katherine forward.
"No!" Jeremy shouted and lunged toward the soldier. "You can't! I never meant . . ."
The shot sounded like a crack of thunder in the close room.
Black smoke poured from the barrel of the musket, and Jeremy froze where he stood, a quizzical expression on his face. He turned to look back at Katherine, his eyes penitent, then wilted toward the floor, a patch of red spreading across his chest.
Almost simultaneous with the musket's discharge, the pistol in Winston's belt was already drawn and c.o.c.ked. It spoke once, and the infantryman who had fired dropped, a trickle of red down his forehead.
As the soldier behind him started to raise his own musket, the pistol gave a small click, rotating the barrel, and flared again. The second man staggered back against the wall, while his flintlock clattered unused to the floor.
Now the rickety table in front of Winston was sailing toward the door, and the pistol that had been lying on it was in his hand. The table caught the third infantryman in the groin as he attempted to raise his weapon and sent him sprawling backward. His musket rattled against the shutters, then dropped.
Morris looked back to see the muzzle of Winston's second flintlock leveled at his temple.
"Katy, let's go." Winston motioned her forward. "We'll probably have more company any minute now."
"You're no better than a murderer, sir." Morris finally recovered his voice.
"I didn't fire the first shot. But by G.o.d I'll be the one who fires the last, that I promise you." He glanced back. "Katy, I said let's go.
Take whatever you want, but hurry."
"Hugh, they've killed Jeremy!" She stood unmoving, shock in her face.
"He wouldn't let me handle this my way." Winston kept his eyes on Morris. "But it's too late now."
"He tried to stop them. He did it for me." She was shaking. "Oh, Jeremy, why in G.o.d's name?"
"Katy, come on." Winston looked back. "Joan, get her things. We've got to move out of here, now."
Joan turned and pushed her way through the cl.u.s.ter of Irish girls standing fearfully in the rear doorway.
"You'll hang for this, sir." Morris eyed the pistol. The remaining infantryman still sat against the wall, his unfired musket on the floor beside him.
"The way you'd planned to hang Miss Bedford, no doubt." He motioned toward Briggs. "Care to collect those muskets for me?"
"I'll have no hand in this, sir." The planter did not move. "You've earned a noose for sure."
"I'll do it." Katherine stepped across Jeremy's body and a.s.sembled the three muskets of the infantrymen. She carried them back, then confronted Morris.
"You, sir, have helped steal the freedom of this island, of the Americas. It's impossible to tell you how much I despise you and all you stand for. I'd kill you myself if G.o.d had given me the courage.
Maybe Hugh will do it for me."
"I'll see the both of you hanged, madam, or I'm not a Christian."
"I hope you try."
Joan emerged through the crowd, toting a large bundle. She laid it on a table by the door, then turned to Winston. "Here's what we got up at the compound this afternoon." She surveyed the three bodies sadly.
"Master Jeremy was a fine lad. Maybe he's finally managed to make his brother proud of him; I'll wager it's all he ever really wanted." She straightened. "Good Christ, I hope they don't try and shut me down because of this."
"It wasn't your doing." Winston lifted the bundle with his free hand.
"Katy, can you manage those muskets?"
"I'd carry them through h.e.l.l."
"Then let's be gone." He waved the pistol at the infantryman sitting against the wall. "Get up. You and the colonel here are going to keep us company."
"Where do you think you can go?" Briggs still had not moved. "They'll comb the island for you."
"They'll look a long time before they find us on Barbados." He shoved the pistol against Morris' ribs. "Let's be off. Colonel."
"There'll be my men all about." Morris glared. "You'll not get far."
"We'll get far enough." He shifted the bundle under his arm.
"Darlin', G.o.dspeed. I swear I'll miss you." Joan kissed him on the cheek, then turned to Katherine. "And mind you watch over him in that place he's headed for."
"Jamaica?"
"No. He knows where I mean." She looked again at Winston. "There's no worse spot in the Caribbean."
"Don't worry. You'll hear from me." Winston kissed her back, then urged Morris forward.
"See that you stay alive." She followed them to the door. "And don't try anything too foolish."
"I always take care." He turned and bussed her on the cheek one last time. Then they were gone.
Chapter Nineteen
As Winston and Katherine led their prisoners slowly down the sh.o.r.e, the _Defiance_ stood out against the dark sky, illuminated by flashes of lightning as it tugged at its anchor cables. The sea was up now, and Winston watched as her prow dipped into the trough of each swell, as though offering a curtsy. They had almost reached the water when he spotted John Mewes, waiting by the longboat.
"Ahoy, Cap'n," he sang out through the gusts of rain. "What're you doin'? Impressing Roundheads to sail with us now? We've already got near to fifty of your d.a.m.n'd indentures."
"Are they on board?"
"Aye, them and all the rest. You're the last." He studied Katherine and Morris in confusion. "Though I'd not expected you'd be in such fine company."