Blood Diamond: A Pirate Devlin Novel Read Free Page B

the street.
    ‘Does something trouble you, sir?’ asked one of his erudite partners at the game, friendly enough despite the reddening face and bulging eyes that hinted at some manner of madness boiling within.
    Dandon smiled, his dull gold front teeth drawing curious looks. ‘I am expecting a friend. He is a trifle late that is all.’
    A bilious snort came back at him. ‘We are all here expecting friends, sir! At least as far as our wives are concerned, eh, Gentlemen?’ He slapped the arm of his chair and the table responded with knowing raps of knuckles and blue clouds of tobacco.
    ‘Quite.’ Dandon lay down his cards, went and watched the street from the bay window. He looked out onto Chesterfield.
    Devlin was to join him here after his mysterious meeting with the prince. The audience was for two o’clock at Leicester House and yesterday, Sunday, Dandon had paid a trip there to confirm with a red-coated valet that the captain would indeed attend as ordered. He had left the address of the White Lion with the valet should any further matter require the captain’s attention. That same night, Dandon was back at his inn, having agreed with Devlin to meet at White’s after four. Two hours should suffice for whatever business the Prince of Wales sought with a pirate.
    Dandon and Devlin had parted with a handshake at Limehouse, neither to know where the other slept in case of some snare being set. Their course for Monday was to meet at White’s if all was well. Now Devlin was overdue and despite the carriages, the horses and the bustle and hawks of street vendors, Dandon’s eyes cut straight to a man in black striding purposefully up Chesterfield. Dogged intent – or vengeance – was on his face. Always a man in black, Dandon thought, the colour of them their only similarity to holy orders.
    He did not worry for his captain. He had seen Devlin perform and often enough had seen the usually merry face darken into something hard immediately preceding someone’s death. It was more that for most of the few years he had known him, ever since Providence where Devlin had rescued him from that devil Blackbeard, Dandon had been with him, felt himself his lucky charm. Separation was bad for them both.
    ‘Are you still in play, sir!’ a stout beef-and-mustard voice warbled from behind him.
    Dandon kept his eyes on the figure, growing larger, aiming directly for him, now puffing and holding onto his hat and wig, his pace increasing.
    ‘I am always in play, sir,’ he did not turn. ‘In more than one game.’
    The bell above the door rang, the man in black pushed past the fellow holding out his hand for his hat and made directly for Dandon at the window. Dandon held his breath. He did not know the man but his face had anxiety burning in it. He seemed to know Dandon, however, even unto some great familiarity judging by his brusqueness.
    ‘Your man did not attend His Highness this afternoon, sir !’ And at the word ‘highness’ the room shared raised looks and shoulder-to-shoulder murmurs. ‘An explanation is most required!’
    Dandon put his hand to the messenger’s and brought him closer. ‘Your discretion, my good man, is required more, would you not suppose?’
    The messenger looked around him, lowering his voice, while the chime of cups and conversation resumed. He turned to the window. ‘Quite,’ his voice began to hiss. ‘Where is the man? His Highness is most irate which bodes not well for you, sir, or for anyone within his sight!’
    Dandon stroked the moustache he had been meaning to remove for some weeks but which served well for such conversations. ‘I do not know where the captain is. Part of our personal conspiracy was to keep such matters hidden from each. And of such I take it that the landlord of the White Lion sent you hither, Mister . . . ?’
    ‘Secretary Timms. The landlord sent me to Shudall’s. They directed me here. Where is he, Dandon? My office must find him for all our sakes!’
    Dandon