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with the back of my hand, trying to hide the sword beneath the polishing cloth.
    â€œHe gave you that, did he?”
    â€œYes. I didn’t steal it. We knew each other in Ajaccio. It was not a long relationship.”
    â€œYet, he gave you that. He adored his grandpere , Kit. That sword meant the world to him.”
    I swallowed hard. Oh, just what I needed to hear. “I’m thinking about giving it back.”
    â€œDon’t do it. Did you love him? “
    â€œI don’t think that’s any of your concern.”
    Jean sat beside me, lifting his face to the sun. “He was always a handsome devil. A little on the shy side, though.”
    â€œThe shy side,” I scoffed. “Ha!”
    â€œYes, he was. Rather overshadowed by his demanding and cold father. His brother could do no wrong, and frittered away every damned day of his life with his father’s blessing.” Jean shook his head. “Armand joined the Navy to get away from them. His grandfather bought him the commission before his death. While he was at sea, his mother died of a heart ailment. They tried to blame that misfortune on him, too. His leaving overset her. He’s not the hardhearted aristocrat you believe him to be, Kit. And he married Sandrine because it was expected of him.”
    â€œI understand that.” I sighed. “Will he go back to it? To the Navy?”
    â€œWhen the baby’s a little older, he probably will. Sandrine is unhappy about it. With the rumors of war, though, he may have to go sooner than he thinks.”
    â€œI hope I never see him again.”
    Jean laughed. “I see right through the bitter show of bravado, Lady Pirate. He gave me something to give to you.” He held up a sealed missive.
    I looked at the rather awful black script and shook my head.
    â€œTake it.”
    I took it, but I did not intend to read it.
    â€œYou’re being very stubborn.”
    â€œI have to be. Did you come here to discuss business, or matters of the heart? I wanted to discuss Greece. Would it be possible to winter there? The Dark Jewel needs some work done on her. I hear the Greek ship builders are better than anyone.”
    â€œYes, I think that would be possible. I know a woman in Greece I’d love to see again. Her hips are wide, and her bre—”
    â€œI got your point,” I interrupted him. “Wide hips, eh? I suppose those are better on a female than wide shoulders.” I was still stinging from Sandrine’s comment.
    â€œIf it pleases you, I will meet you there. I have to stop in Africa first. I have business there.”
    â€œI wish I could change your mind about the slave trade.”
    â€œIt’s a business like any other, my dear. And it’s far too lucrative to give up.”
    After he left, I dropped Armand’s letter into the sea and watched the water swallow it down.

Chapter 4
    On the way back from Greece, I experienced my first run of bad luck as a privateer. My crew became ill with typhoid and I lost ten good men. I became ill myself, but fortunately not with typhus. Roger was forced to nurse me for weeks, while Terry took over my duties.
    I was still weak and tired when we pulled into Barataria with our cargo of Italian marble earmarked for one of Jean’s villas. It was a good month of rest and decent food until we could set out for Amsterdam to trade fruit for tulip bulbs, of all things. I was becoming quite the little errand girl for Jean.
    I was writing in my journal, when Terry knocked on my cabin door.
    â€œWe’ve picked up a man overboard, Captain Kit. A Frenchman from a ship called L’Esprit. ”
    â€œHow is he?”
    â€œHe’s well, all things considered. He has burns to his feet and hands. They were attacked by a British ship that was flying under French colors. A captain by the name of Wardman. I’ve heard of him. They say he’s a right weasel.”
    â€œI’ll talk to