Joss lay on his back on the husk-filled mattress that was all that came between himself and the dirt floor. Around him men of every shade betwixt white and black snored and rattled, though the noises they made were not what kept him from joining them in sleep. His mind was busy with schemes for escape. Impossible schemes, he knew. He was in a gaol inside a fortress with walls twenty feet thick. Chains linked his wrists and ankles. He had no weapon. Two guards played cards outside the locked cell door. Two more guards were on duty farther down the hall. He had no money for bribes, and no friends save Lilah on this thrice-damned island. So figure a way out of this hole, San Pietro, if you can, he jeered at himself.
All male prisoners, regardless of race or offense, were kept in this one large cell. The reason for that was simple: The rest of the gaol, apparently having been damaged in a severe hurricane some years before, was still under repair. Most crimes on Barbados seemed to be linked to what his fellow prisoners called "kill-devil", out of seventeen prisoners he was the only one who. d he ever came to trial, might conceivably hang. The rest, except for a pair of inept thieves who had tried to relieve a lady of her reticule and been beaten half senseless by the very object they'd tried to steal as the lady proved to be a warrior of considerable valor, were an ever-changing lot.
He had to escape, or he would hang. He existed in daily expectation of being hauled up before whatever passed for justice in this tiny slice of hell, and finding himself facing Leonard Remy. That Lilah's father would exact every bitter drop of revenge from the man who had ruined his daughter Joss had no doubt. He was only surprised that it was taking the man so long to get around to it.
Whenever he thought of Leonard Remy, he worried. The man had slapped his daughter, and Joss broke into a cold sweat when he considered what he might be doing to her even as he, Joss, lay waiting for his day in court. Would he harm her? His own daughter? The mere thought made Joss feel murderous. But there was nothing he could do to aid her. Not unless he could figure out a way to escape.
Footsteps approaching along the hard-packed dirt of the corridor brought Joss out of his half-savage revery. The guard had just been changed, and it was hours early for the repulsive dish of raw mashed fish that generally served as breakfast. Perhaps another drunk to be locked up?
The guards looked up from their card game, squinting as they peered at the newcomers. The stone wall on either side of the barred door prevented Joss from seeing the objects of those narrow-eyed looks.
"Oh, Hindlay, it's you," one of them grumbled, relaxing. "What the bloody hell do you want now?"
"I want you to open that cell damned quick," came a growl, and four uniformed members of the militia were herded into view, held at gunpoint by half a dozen rough- garbed sailors.
Joss blinked, grinned suddenly, and got to his feet. Another inmate woke up, saw what was happening, and ya-hooed.
"It's a bleedin' jailbreak," he whooped, and ran for the door that the scowling guard had just opened. Awakened by his cry, those who weren't too drunk followed. Joss, the only one wearing shackles due to the seriousness of his crime, made his way toward the door a little more laboriously. He stopped before the seething guard, holding out his arms wonllessly. The guard, gritting his teeth, unlocked the shackles on wrists and ankles.
"I thank you, sir," Joss said, and smiled as the guards were roughly bound, tied, and pushed into the cell that he was vacating. His yellow-haired rescuer turned the key in the lock, then nonchalantly pocketed it.
"Good evening, Jocelyn." David Scanlon inclined his head with exquisite courtesy. The sailors with him saluted Joss with varying degrees of punctiliousness.
"Good to see ya, Cap'n."
" 'lo, Cap'n."
"Good to see you, too, Stoddard, Hayes, Greeley, Watson, Teaff. Davey here got you up to no good as usual?"
The men grinned. "Aye, sir."
"Speaking of no good, my friend…" Davey was herding them all with quick efficiency from the now guardless gaol as he spoke. "That appears to be exactly what you've been up to since we last met."
"My late lamented career as a horse thief, you mean? Not quite what it was made out to be, believe me." Joss clapped his friend on the shoulder. "Thanks for coming so quickly, Davey."
"You're entirely welcome, of course." Davey was looking around with his usual caution before he nodded to the others. Then, with Joss beside him and the rest following, he strolled cooly toward the open gates of the fort. "Actually, I wasn't referring to that. I was referring to your quite unprecedented action in dishonoring our who was obviously, before she met you, an innocent young lady."
Joss stopped walking, stared at his friend, stiffened. "Lilah-you've seen her?"
Davey inclined his head. "More than seen her, my friend. She appeared on the Lady Jasmine about two hours ago, obviously in some distress. She told me where to find you."
Joss ignored all but the relevant part of that. "What do you mean, obviously in some distress? What's wrong with her? Where is she now?"
"Still on the Lady Jasmine, in the captain's cabin, to be exact. I'm sorry to tell you that she seems to be in the process of losing your baby."