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buried in an unmarked grave within twelve hours of setting foot in Bridgetown, and who but Roundheads would know? No Royalist remained in Barbados after all these years to be able to take over effective command of the island in the King’s name. And even if it was revealed afterwards that Edward Yorke had been executed, who in the excitement of the Restoration in England would care what happened in a remote island in the West Indies?
    Suddenly Ned turned to her. “What do you think?”
    “I think Thomas and Diana are right. Barbados is not safe yet.”
    “What about your plantation? What about Kingsnorth?”
    “Both were overgrown with forests at the beginning. A year’s neglect won’t do much harm! Or two or three years.”
    “So what do you want me to do?”
    It was a naked plea; the tone of Ned’s voice made it clear that, in front of Thomas and Diana, he was asking her what he should do – or, rather,asking her to confirm what she wanted to do – and telling her he would abide by her decision. She paused a moment, thinking of his natural pride and sensitivity. For the past two hours the four of them had been so serious, like churchmen plotting politics. They needed to laugh, and then they could sit down to dinner with a good appetite.
    She fluffed out her hair and ran a finger along her eyebrows, and then looked down demurely. “I think I would make an excellent wife for an admiral,” she said. “We can marry here just as well as in Barbados.”
    In the Perdrix ’s cabin next morning Diana noticed that everyone had taken the same place as yesterday, but there was a definite tension. Leclerc’s occasional laughs as he ushered everyone down the companion-way tended to end as nervous giggles; even more than ever Gottlieb looked as though he had been dazzled by a bright light. Edward Brace quickly took out his comb and ran it through his beard, and then resumed twirling the tip in his fingers. Only Coles sat still and silent, avoiding staring at Ned. But occasionally glancing at Thomas, as though hoping his expression might reveal Ned’s decision.
    Diana guessed that Thomas knew no more about it than the other buccaneers and, she suspected, Aurelia. In fact, Diana was far from sure that Ned had even yet reached a decision, and she was basing this on Aurelia’s behaviour: the Frenchwoman was being remarkably patient with Ned; the kind of patience, Diana recognized, that was the result of complete exasperation.
    Diana could understand the exasperation. She had managed to persuade Thomas to do what she wanted – not, she admitted, that he had much choice. She held the purse strings and knew his weaknesses: few men played a worse game of backgammon; no man, she was certain, could so consistently roll dice and get the wrong number; yet no man loved gambling more. She had two weapons, her money and her body, and Thomas needed both. She had no hesitation in withholding either. But was Aurelia so well armed? A gorgeous body, yes, but Ned had his own money.
    There was a considerable difference between the two men. Thomas was hale and hearty, a drinker and trencherman, a lusty man who never brooded, never said more or less than he thought, who was quite incapable of sulking or being tactful or behaving deceitfully. Thomas would argue with her, bellow, lose his temper, and, occasionally, hit her in sheer exasperation. But he was always so amorously repentant afterwards that she enjoyed his lapses.
    Ned, however, was different. He was almost the opposite of Thomas in every way: she had never seen Ned slap a man on the back, lift a tankard of rumbullion with the relish of Thomas, or attack a meal with Thomas’ gusto. But it was clear, from Aurelia’s radiant expression, that Ned’s feelings were no less strong for being controlled; that Aurelia could release those feelings, though Diana was not so sure that the French girl could control them as well as she could Thomas’.
    It was much more important that the two men