Wings Of The Morning Part 28

"I ain't never prayed before," Aggie murmured softly when Smokey paused.

"The words don't have to be fancy. I remember that I told G.o.d I was a sinner and that I believed His Son died for my sins.

Then I asked Him to live in my heart, and I know He did because He's never left me."

"Until ya came down 'ere," Aggie said with soft regret.

"You're wrong, Aggie. It's awful down here, but G.o.d is 236.

with me," Smokey repeated herself. "As long as I've got breath in my body, I'm going to praise Him."

Smokey stretched out on her pallet, praying that she had made sense to Aggie.

The older woman watched Smokey fall asleep, her heart thoughtful. For the first time in nearly two months, her mind was too busy for sleep.

Dallas stood against the wall of a dockside tavern and scanned the room's occupants. In the four days he had been out searching, he had found his height to be a hindrance. It made him more conspicuous than he cared to be. Since he was not a regular in these places, it was easier to stand in the shadows against the wall than to take a table and be watched Four days and he'd come up with nothing. The detective had mentioned that their prey seemed to have disappeared Dallas was beginning to believe he had been right.

With another scan of the smoke-filled room, Dallas pushed away from the wall. He was meeting someone at midnight in yet another tavern. Maybe this one would be of more help than the others. With Smokey on his mind, he prayed this would be the lead he needed as he walked back out into the foggy London night.

the morning of the trial the jailer came for Smokey without warning. Giving her no time to even speak to Aggie, she was cuffed and led slowly back up to the streets of London.

The sun nearly blinded her as she was led to a waiting wagon.

She stumbled repeatedly from her blindness and the weakened physical state of her body.

By the time she was pushed onto a seat in the prison wagon, her legs were ready to buckle. The ride was rough, and her stomach started to turn. She prayed with confidence though, telling the Lord she simply had to be freed if she was going to help her men and Aggie.

Brandon stood inside one of the small anterooms outside the courtroom and waited. He had pulled a few more strings and was granted permission to meet with Smokey prior to her going before the magistrate.

He'd told himself to expect the worst, but he hadn't fully reckoned with how tiny Smokey had been before her captivity.

Brandon was so stunned by her appearance that for a full ten seconds he didn't move.

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She was a walking skeleton. Huge dark circles ringed eyes that were sunk deep in her head Her skin had a frightening pallor to it and her clothing hung on her emaciated frame.

Brandon's heart pounded, and he praised G.o.d that Sunny had not argued with him over coming to the trial.

"Sit down, Smokey," Brandon said, finally finding his voice. It sounded hoa.r.s.e even to his own ears. He watched Smokey lick her lips, but beyond that she didn't seem able to move.

"It was a long walk from the wagon," she said cryptically, and Brandon knew then that she was barely staying on her feet.

He moved forward swiftly and positioned a chair so that she had only to bend her legs. She did so. When she sat, Brandon noticed a look of peace amid the fatigue in her eyes.

Again she licked her lips, and for the first time Brandon saw how dry they were.

He pressed a gla.s.s into her hands and watched as her whole frame shook with exertion. She raised it to her mouth and found it fresh-tasting, unlike the water in prison that tasted strongly of iron, and she nearly choked as she tried to swallow it all at once.

"Easy, easy," Brandon warned her, but she didn't notice his words or the tears that had formed in his eyes. Please, Father, he silently begged Please don't make her go back to ibat place. I don't know if she can take much more.

"Here, Smokey." Brandon finally had to step in and take the cup from her before she made herself sick. She looked at him with vague, wounded eyes that cleared after just a moment.

"They don't give you that much to eat inside. For a moment I forgot where I was."

"Smokey," Brandon spoke softly. "It's almost time to go in.

Are you going to be all right?

"Where are my men?" she asked, ignoring the question.

"They were released just this morning and all taken back to the s.h.i.+p. Da.r.s.ey said none of them had been mistreated."

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Smokey eyes slid shut with relief. It simply didn't matter what they did to her, as long as her men were safe. She opened her eyes when Brandon spoke "You're going before Judge Pinkerton. He's a complete eccentric and loves a show, so be prepared for anything."

"Where is Dallas?" Smokey asked as though she hadn't heard Brandon's words.

"He'll be here." Brandon spoke with confidence even though he hadn't seen him in nearly five days.

The door opened then, and the guard outside came for Smokey. She was led into the courtroom and onto a bench.

Another trial was in session, but Smokey didn't really catch the gist of it. Praying all the while, she half dozed until her name was called When she did hear the sound of her name, Smokey opened her eyes and was directed to stand in the criminal box called a dock. The magistrate appeared to be hundreds of feet above her, but in truth it was only six or seven. She looked up into his frowning face and had to catch herself when the room tilted "Has this woman been drinking?" Judge Pinkerton's voice sounded outraged, and Brandon spoke.

"No, your wors.h.i.+p. 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 wors.h.i.+p, I'm sorry," he apologized "I was only trying to prove my client innocent of drinking."

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'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 s.h.i.+p, 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?"

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"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 s.h.i.+p, 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 compa.s.sion 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 s.h.i.+p 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 s.h.i.+p. 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 s.h.i.+p was commandeered, and I was charged with piracy. I was put into the Tower immediately, and then taken to Klink Prison.

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"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 a.s.sure 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.

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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 wors.h.i.+p?"

"Why, a duel, of course. If Miss 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 wors.h.i.+p's very eyes, and you alone will be the judge."