“I dare not tell you, mademoiselle.”
When Kate pressed and pleaded, though, he finally mumbled a curse under his breath and revealed that Monsieur Deverill had been taken captive by that dog Louvel. As it turned out, the ostler despised Louvel for hurting his brother some years past but feared incurring the pirate’s wrath.
Dismay filled Kate as she stared at him. “Where was Deverill taken?” she managed to ask in a hoarse voice.
Again the ostler hesitated, before confessing that he had overheard talk about a certain cave that filled with the tide. “It is how Louvel keeps his cutthroats in line—by threatening to toss them in the drowning cell.”
Kate tried to remain calm, but inside she was reeling. “How do I find this cave? Please, if you know, you must tell me.”
“I know not, mademoiselle. I have never visited there before. I swear it. Although I have heard it is in one of the coves to the south of here.”
Kate clenched her hands into fists in an effort to stem her fear. By now Louvel could have injured Deverill, or worse. Much worse. Or alternatively, Deverill could have been confined in the cave to drown. If her inexpert calculations were correct, the tide should be coming in about now….Dear heaven, she had to act—but how?
The wise choice would be to seek help from Captain Halsey, but by then it could be too late to aid Deverill. No, she had to send a message to the captain at Royan and then try to confront Louvel herself. Perhaps she could delay him long enough for help to arrive.
“I must find Louvel,” she murmured almost to herself.
“But he did not accompany his fellow tars, mademoiselle.”
She stared at the ostler. “Where did he go?”
“I regret, I do not know. Is it possible that he returned to his home and sent his underlings to do the deed without him?”
The ostler had no more information to share, but at least her promise of an ample reward made him agree to send a message to the harbor at Royan. With an unsteady hand, Kate wrote her note to Halsey and watched as a stable boy was dispatched.
Then turning, she picked up her skirts and ran.
—
She headed directly for Louvel’s house, hoping he was there, praying Gabrielle would help her if not. By the time she arrived at his doorstep, she was panting for breath and frantic with worry, for she couldn’t help imagining what had befallen Deverill.
Not bothering to knock, Kate burst into the foyer and startled one of the serving maids who was dusting the staircase banister with a feather duster. When the girl stammered that her master was away from home but revealed her mistress’s location, Kate raced to the kitchens, where Gabrielle appeared to be occupied with arranging flowers in a vase.
“What is the matter?” she exclaimed in alarm.
Kate put her palms against her midriff as she struggled for air. “It is Louvel! He has taken Deverill…and means to kill him!”
Gabrielle’s face drained of color. “Surely you are mistaken.”
“There is no mistake. There were witnesses. He plans to exact retribution and so ordered Deverill apprehended by his men. Please, do you know where I can find Louvel? I must speak to him.”
Gabrielle shook her head in dismay. “He is not here. He intended to visit the bishop in Royan about a license to wed. You see, shortly after you left, he professed his love for me and offered his hand in marriage—” She frowned deeply as she set down her flowers. “What will you do if you find him?”
“I am not certain. I can offer to pay a ransom…or I can beg him for mercy—”
Gently, Gabrielle put her hands on Kate’s upper arms, saying in a calming voice, “You are not thinking clearly, my friend. I know Jean. Once he is slighted, he does not forget. Pray, believe me. It would be best if I entreat him instead. I suspect I am the only one who can persuade him to abandon his quest for vengeance.”
Her sincere concern had the intended effect on Kate. Inhaling to compose herself, she nodded in agreement. “Yes, you are right. But I cannot stand idly by and do nothing while Deverill dies. At the very least I must try to stop Louvel’s men. What of the place where they took Deverill? A cave that floods with the incoming tide. Can you direct me there?”
If anything, Gabrielle looked ev
en more alarmed. “Mon Dieu…I will draw you a map.”
“Yes, please….”
Carrying pen and paper to the kitchen table, the Frenchwoman quickly began to sketch while speaking out loud. “You will need a horse, Kate. You may borrow one from our stables.”
“The livery will have horses already saddled. It will be faster if I hire one from there.”