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.“Show our signal,” he bellowed proudly, leaning over the wheel for a clear view as Brother Tom raised the square black patch with vividly detailed red eyes in the top right corner.The Phantom flew for the very first time and his chest swelled.“What in heavens is that?” Momentarily forgetting her cover, Amber stood aside, peering at the devil’s eyes with hands on her hips.Graham would have been delighted to explain, but just then he sighted the grey and white stripes embossed with the outline of a wolf’s head flying boldly on the approaching ship.Krayne Johnstone skipped between his ships depending on which way his fancy blew, but the Grey Wolf only flew when Krayne was acting captain.“The Grey Wolf approaches,” he called instead, watching Amber’s reaction eagerly.It took her a moment to make the connection, then she paled and flattened her body against the mast.“That cannot be,” she muttered.“He could never make it there and back so quickly.”His grin spread to warm his belly as he tossed the first wedge of cheese to his little mouse.“Aye, Krayne Johnstone usually dallies a sennight at least ta sample Bordeaux’s pleasures.’Twould take a man much less curious than I ta wonder what chases the wolf back ta his lair.”Amber’s heart constricted at the news that her husband had gone only as far as Bordeaux, and then again as she contemplated the nature of the pleasure he regularly sampled.“Curiosity is the work of idle hands,” she snapped.“I couldn’t care less where the man goes or what he does there.”“Then ye care only that he’d stayed, doing what he does, a little longer?” Graham countered and she knew her error at once.“I’ve heard of the Grey Wolf,” Amber improvised with a deliberate chiding tone.“The outrageous tales, wrought to strike terror in maid and warrior alike, follow him from coast to coast.’Tis not unseemly that I’d be content to forgo the odious circumstance of ever meeting such a blackguard face to face.”“Not unseemly in the least,” Graham agreed, not at all convinced.Here was a tale, indeed, and he looked forward to the unravelling of it.That Amber of Nowhere and Krayne Johnstone of Wamphray knew each other, and knew each other well, was already a foregone conclusion in his mind.Amber eyed the captain warily.Why was he grinning so broadly? Even as she looked, he put the foghorn to his mouth, turned from her and called, “Ahoy, ye bloated belly slug.”Her legs collapsed and down she went.“What are you doing?” she hissed, scowling at the imbecile.“Ahoy yerself, ye varlet,” came the distorted rumble.“I see ye’ve finally unclogged Annan’s pretty sea view and removed that hulk of rotting wood.”“I was finally offered a worthy motivation.” Laughing blue eyes sought her out.“What say ye? Should we invite the good Laird of Wamphray aboard fer a wee dram of whiskey?”“Don’t look at me.Don’t talk to me.” Real fear trotted along her spine.“Please, let him sail on by.”“Krayne is a fast friend and I’ve ne’er known him ta harm a lass, less a lady stranger.” Graham spoke truthfully.Surely, now, the lovely Amber would spill her woes so he could decide whether to save her pert little arse or bed it.Amber was scared, but she hadn’t lost her wits.Graham Douglas could go to hell before she told him anything.Especially if he was a great friend of Krayne.“You will not stop and you certainly will not invite that—that terrorising scourge of the seas aboard.”“Since when do ye give orders ta the captain?”“Since I bought and paid for him.”Those blue eyes narrowed on her.“The price of two mares bought ye passage, not the ship.”“How can you be so cruel?”“Why dinna ye unfold that sharp tongue of yers and tell me what’s truly going on?”“Nothing.” Amber dared a glance around the lower end of the mast she clutched, peering between the oak stems that formed the railing on the quarterdeck.The hull of the passing ship blocked her view, so close that if the sun lay correctly, the Glory would be cast in its shadow.With measured slowness, the blackness gave way to slots of blue, and then she saw only the rippled swell it left behind.“He’s gone,” she said, much louder than she’d intended.“He’ll be back,” Graham mused.That his voice had carried was very much intended.“Christ Almighty,” swore Krayne, so fiercely that Blackie, Annan’s local smithy, cringed fearfully against the wall.Krayne turned on Alexander.“Round the crew.Ye’ll find them at Brown’s Alehouse and send fer Captain Jack.”Krayne marched out ahead of Alexander, took the narrow path leading behind the forge and smashed his fist into the first tree he came across.Blood trickled down his knuckles.He did not feel a thing.Alexander had been waiting for him at Annan, the blacksmith at his side to substantiate the claim that Krayne’s wife had fled and used his own mares to barter her passage.Amber had fled
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