Read Wings of the Morning Page 24


  "Has this woman been drinking?" Judge Pinkerton's voice

  sounded outraged, and Brandon spoke.

  "No, your worship. She was in the Tower and then moved

  without my knowledge. I've just learned within the last hour

  that she'd been taken to Klink Prison, where I believe she was

  mistreated"

  "You've no proof of that," the jailer stood and began to

  protest.

  "As you can see," Brandon cut him off in anger, "she can

  barely stand for lack of nourishment, and when she was taken

  into custody, her hair was long. Heaven knows what else she's

  been through."

  The judge's gavel hit its pad at that moment, and his voice

  was dry as it rang out over the courtroom. "Is the jailer on trial

  here, Lord Hawkesbury?"

  Spectators laughed, but Brandon didn't Join them.

  "No, your worship, I'm sorry," he apologized "I was only

  trying to prove my client innocent of drinking."

  240

  'Very well, carry on. No!" he said, suddenly changing his

  mind. "Don't carry on. I wish to know from the girl, who did cut your hair?"

  Sniokey blinked, not fully understanding that she was

  expected to answer.

  "Does this woman have the proper faculties to come to

  her own defense?" Judge Pinkerton asked, frowning again.

  "Miss Simmons," Brandon addressed her from his own

  box, his voice all business. "Tell the judge what he wants to

  know."

  "What does he want to know?" Smokey was feeling completely

  disoriented She could tell that the room was full of

  people because she heard constant whispering and some

  laughter, but she was too tired to even turn around

  "Just answer the questions he asks of you," Brandon

  instructed her. As Smokey looked to the white-wigged judge,

  Brandon prayed

  "What is your name, young woman?"

  "Victoria Simmons."

  "And you are an American?*'

  "Yes, sir."

  "Do you know why you were arrested?"

  "Yes, the charge was piracy." Smokey was feeling a bit

  better with something specific to think about.

  "Now, why would you be charged with piracy?" The judge

  was again scowling.

  "I own and captain my own ship, but I've never stolen

  anything."

  "How did you come to own your own vessel?"

  "It was left to me by my father."

  "His name?"

  "Clancy," she said, and a murmur went through the crowd.

  The judge's scowl intensified. He studied her silently until

  Smokey thought she wouldn't be able to stand it. Trying to be

  as subtle as possible, she moved her hands to the railing of the

  dock and held on for her life.

  "Did they feed you in prison?"

  241

  "One time, every other day," Smokey admitted and saw

  the judge visually spear someone standing behind her.

  "Tell me your story, Miss Simmons," the judge continued

  Smokey watched as he settled back in his chair. She took a

  deep breath, tried to settle her thoughts, and began.

  "Some weeks ago when I was docked here with my men, I

  was grabbed, drugged, and abducted I was taken aboard a

  ship, and when I woke the pirate Haamich Wynn admitted that

  he'd taken me. I escaped him and--"

  "How did you escape?"

  "We fenced--" Smokey had to cut off when the room

  exploded with laughter. The judge himself was looking incredulous,

  but he shouted for order.

  "You fenced with Haamich Wynn," the judged asked, "and

  won?"

  "Yes. I cut his face, and he fainted at the sight of his own

  blood" Again the room exploded, and Smokey had to stop.

  The judge watched as she began to wilt. His heart was unaccustomed

  to compassion toward Americans, but for some

  reason this small woman touched him. She was clearly not

  going to stand up against this crowd for much longer.

  He rapped for silence once more and threatened to clear

  the court if there were any more outbursts.

  "Please go on, Miss Simmons."

  Smokey stared at him for a moment and then continued,

  her voice a bit stronger.

  "He came aboard my ship some weeks after I'd escaped

  him the first time and tried to take over. He tried to push his

  unwanted attentions on me and steal my ship. Afriend of mine

  sneaked aboard, and I was again able to escape him.

  "We came directly here to turn him over to the authorities.

  I went to stay with some friends. When I returned it was to

  find that Haamich Wynn, who I'm told is really Lord Darrell

  Lynne, had been released My ship was commandeered, and I

  was charged with piracy. I was put into the Tower immediately,

  and then taken to Klink Prison.

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  "While imprisoned, Haamich Wynn came to see me."

  Smokey, whose eyes were intent on the magistrate, missed

  Brandon's scowl. "When I would not agree to marry him," she

  went on, "he grew furious and cut my hair off at the neck."

  Although the crowd was quieter now, everyone seemed to

  be talking. Smokey could not read the judge's face, so she

  waited, still gripping the railing with all her strength.

  "What have you to say to these charges, Lord Lynne?"

  Smokey's whole body stiffened on these words. He was

  here; he was actually here! Smokey's gaze flew to Brandon's,

  whose eyes, amazingly enough, seemed to be telling her to

  trust him. She prayed again and tried to stay calm, but her

  heart pounded in her chest.

  "As you can see," a mocking voice spoke, "I have no such

  cut on my face."

  Smokey turned slowly at the sound of the familiar voice.

  She stared into the pirate's face and felt stunned. He was the

  same in everyway; handsome, arrogant, and seemingly bigger

  than life, except that his scar was missing. Smokey stared at

  him, but he ignored her. She turned back to the j judge after just

  a moment, wondering if she might be losing her mind

  "So you deny all such allegations that you have been a

  pirate?"

  Darrell Lynne laughed expansively. "I guarantee you, I

  have no need to steal from anyone, and as for pressing my

  attentions on this woman," the huge man's face was sneering

  as he looked at the back of Smokey, "I assure you my tastes run

  to women of beauty and grace--English women!" he emphasized

  at the end.

  Smokey felt utterly defeated Why wasn't Brandon saying

  anything? She tried to read his face as he too looked at the

  pirate, but it gave nothing away.

  "Do you hold to your story, Miss Simmons?"

  'Yes, sir, I do. I don't know why he doesn't have a scar, but I

  did fight him and I did cut his face."

  "Would you be willing to prove that?" the Judge asked her.

  243

  This time it was Brandon's turn to stiffen. He feared something

  outrageous like this would occur, but to refuse the idea

  would surely hang her. Brandon stayed quiet long enough to

  pray for Dallas' swift arrival and then spoke.

  "What did you have in mind, your worship?"

  "Why, a duel, of course. If Mi
ss Simmons is as adept as she

  says, she will surely be willing to display her skill."

  Brandon glanced at Smokey to find she did not seem as

  stunned as he felt, and wondered if she understood what was

  about to happen. Brandon knew he had to keep control of this.

  "My client accepts on one condition, sir--that I be allowed

  to fight her."

  "So that you can go easy on her, Lord Hawkesbury?"

  "The duel will commence before his worship's very eyes,

  and you alone will be the judge."

  "Done!" Judge Pinkerton announced with satisfaction.

  "This court will recess for 15 minutes so foils can be gathered"

  Brandon came for Smokey then, leading her though the

  noisy crowd and back to the anteroom. Once inside he said

  only one thing.

  "Resign yourself to the truth, Smokey. I wish it were otherwise,

  but the duel we fought at Bracken wilt feel like child-play

  after today. Dallas is not yet here, and I'm afraid that nothing

  else will save you."

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  "tell me about my men," Smokey asked Brandon, who

  blinked at her in surprise.

  He had just warned her how difficult their duel was going

  to be, and she asked about her men. Brandon stalled by giving

  her some more water, frustrated that he hadn't thought to

  bring her some food. She was still very shaky.

  "You did say they were released, didn't you?"

  Brandon was brought abruptly back to the present. "Yes.

  I'd been working for a couple of days on their case, and it was

  finally decided that you were the one they were after.

  "I couldn't get comfortable until they were out. It wouldn't

  do much good to have you released without your crew."

  "And you believe I'll be released?"

  "Yes."

  Smokey sighed. "Where was his scar, Brandon?"

  Brandon opened his mouth, but the guarding constable

  knocked and entered. Just minutes later Smokey found herself

  back in the courtroom. Her eyes met the seething gaze of

  Haamich Wynn, and Smokey began to tremble as she had done

  when she'd been locked in the cell.

  She was still shaking when the guard led her to the open

  area of the courtroom and held the foil for her hand Her heart

  sank when she grasped the weapon. It felt as if it weighed a

  hundred pounds.

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  Smokey suddenly realized the room was deathly still. She

  glanced up to find every eye in the court upon her, and she

  hadn't even lifted her sword Brandon was in place opposite

  her, and she met his eyes, ready to tell him she couldn't do it.

  "Is that doubt I see in your eyes, Miss Simmons?"

  From where the strength came, Smokey knew not, but her

  chin lifted and so did her foil. Brandon cried "engarde," and

  their foils met.

  Occupants of the room barely breathed as they watched

  Lord Hawkesbury's immediate attack. He came at Smokey

  without mercy. She countered every move, years of training

  overcoming her weakness. Judge Pinkerton came to his feet,

  absentmindedly dragging the wig from his head as the opponents

  danced around each other, both trying to gain the

  advantage.

  Using the move that had wiped the smile from Brandon's

  face the first time they dueled, Smokey cut his coat. It was to be

  her undoing. She couldn't recover, and in a merciless downward

  stroke, Brandon flipped the foil right out of Smokey's

  grasp. The move left Smokey's arm tingling from shoulder to

  fingertips.

  Smokey was so spent at that point that she couldn't move.

  Only seconds passed before the room erupted in pandemonium.

  Everyone seemed to be talking at once, and over the

  pounding of the gavel, Haamich Wynn could be heard shouting.

  "This proves nothing! You could see how easy he was with

  her!"

  Brandon turned to the man in fury, but the door burst

  open and a commotion ensued from the rear. The occupants

  of the room finally heeded the judge's call for silence as

  Dallas Knight marched in. Wrists tied behind his back and

  preceding Dallas at the point of his sword was Haamich Wynn,

  scar and all.

  Smokey stared at the man's face in shock. His eye was

  blackened and his lip was bloody, but the resemblance to the

  man already in the room was remarkable.

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  Suddenly the first Haamich Wynn panicked. With no

  warning whatsoever, he vaulted over the railing and grabbed

  Smokey. With an arm around her throat in a choke hold, he

  dragged her back toward the judge.

  "I'll break her neck," he shouted in desperation, his eyes

  wide with panic. Smokey clawed at the arm that was cutting

  off her air, but it did no good

  "Stay back or she's dead." He continued to back toward the

  judge's podium. He was about to shout again when he stopped

  dead in his tracks. The judge, his wig in place once again, was

  holding the point of one foil in Wynn's ear. The impostor had

  never noticed as Brandon set the foils up on the stand.

  "Now release her," Pinkerton's voice was calm, "or the

  entire room will watch what we do with pirates."

  With the point pressed against his ear, the first Haamich

  Wynn grudgingly released Smokey and stood frozen in place;

  in fact everything seemed to freeze outside of Smokey, who

  crawled to safety and stayed were she was as Brandon began

  to speak.

  "The man you see before you is not Haamich Wynn. This

  man is Lawrence Lynne. The man in the rear, however, is Lord

  Darrell Lynne, alias Haamich Wynn." The crowd began to

  buzz, but Brandon continued.

  "Darrell and Lawrence are cousins who have been robbing

  us blind for nearly a year. When Darrell is in London, Lawrence

  goes into seclusion. Only when Darrell is headed out to

  sea does he contact his nearly identical cousin to cover for

  him on the streets of London. The split is 50-50 from what I

  understand, and with the success they've enjoyed, there have

  been no plans to quit."

  "Take them away," Judge Pinkerton said softly. "The case

  against Victoria Simmons is dismissed." The room exploded

  with noise and confusion.

  The guards started toward Lawrence, but with a swift

  move he leaped away from the judge's box and tried to run.

  The guards fell on him.

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  It seemed to Smokey that a fight was breaking out in every

  corner of the room, forcing her to hold her position on the

  floor. Just seconds passed before Brandon appeared before

  her. As he reached to pull her to her feet, she saw the Judge

  shouting to be heard above the fray.

  "The press will be pitiless. Bring her out through my

  chamber."

  Brandon followed without question and began to move

  Smokey forward Her head whipped back just before they left

  the courtroom, hoping for a final glimpse of Dallas. Smokey

  spotted him amid the commotion, struggling with a man on

  either side. Then just moments later, before Smokey could

  find her bearings, she was outside, lifted i
nto a carriage, and

  headed onto the streets of London.

  "Where to, Smokey?" Brandon asked her from his place

  across the coach.

  'The docks," she said wearily, praying as she did that

  Dallas would be all right.

  "Are you sure? I know Dallas wants to see you. Sunny is at

  our town house here in London."

  Smokey nodded "I appreciate the offer, Brandon. I would

  like to see Sunny and especially Dallas, but I need to get to the Aramis."

  "As you wish," Brandon told her, seeing that she was

  fading fast. He gave orders to his driver and settled back

  against the squabs.

  "Brandon," Smokey's voice came weakly from her seat.

  Her senses were beginning to dull, but this had to be said "In

  Klink Prison I had a cellmate. Her name is Aggie. I told her

  about Christ," Smokey's head had fallen back against the seat,

  but she forced the words from her mouth.

  "Please check on her. I didn't even get to say goodbye.

  Please go to her, pray with her. Please--"

  "I'll take care of it," Brandon told her, and Smokey let her

  eyes slide shut with a sigh. She wasn't aware of the way the

  driver used back streets to avoid being followed or of Brandon

  250

  himself, who was determined to get her to her ship safely,

  even if he had to lay down his own life.

  They stopped 30 minutes later. Smokey had been sound

  asleep for most of that time and was not aware that her ship

  was finally in sight. Not until someone called her name did

  she come out of the dream she had been having about sitting

  at Willa's kitchen table.

  "Smokey," the voice grew louder. When someone shook

  her by the shoulder, she opened her eyes.

  "Darsey?"

  "It's me, lass."

  "Is Willa here?"

  "No, but if you come aboard theAramis, we can sail home

  and see her."

  "I can go home?" Smokey asked with childish wonder, just

  before she began to sob. Her hands covered her face, and

  amid her harsh weeping she was hardly aware of the way

  Brandon lifted her from the carriage and tenderly handed her

  to her first mate.

  A crowd that included newsmongers who had been keeping

  an eye on theAramis was swiftly converging upon them.

  Smokey's crew was there to surround her and to take care of

  anyone overly zealous for a story. In an effort to see them

  safely up the gangplank, Brandon's own coachmen climbed

  down and assisted in the fray.

  With no time wasted, Darsey carried Smokey to her cabin.

  He knew that Scully was already preparing a bath, but when