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    Wings of the Morning

    Page 24
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      "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.

      242

      "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."

      245

      "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.

      245

      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.

      246

      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.

      247

      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

     


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