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After walking back to the main house with Max, Justin kept himself occupied with small tasks for the
rest of the day, repairing a few loose boards in the bell tower and joining in the effort to clear a fallen tree
that had partially blocked the drive. As he worked alongside the slaves, Justin reflected on the irony that
on Isle au Corneille and among most pirate crews, men of color had freedom and authority equal to any
white man, whereas here in the civilized world they were reduced to slavery. The value of a man like
Aug, intelligent and perceptive, able to organize men and carry out plans with skill and inventiveness,
could never be realized here. Here Aug could not sit at a table and partake of a meal with him. Their
friendship would be governed by intolerable restraints devised by a hypocritical society. Justin realized
that his friendship with Aug and the past few years of living and fighting alongside his crew had changed
his beliefs radically.
Although there were many freedmen in New Orleans, and it was common even encouraged for
white men to take mulatto or octoroon mistresses, a male with any drop of Negro blood would be
hanged for having an affair with a white woman. Since Justin had arrived here he had dared to ask Max if
he felt there was anything wrong with such a system. To his surprise, Max had admitted uncomfortably
that with his own increasing interest in his shipping business, he had recently been considering freeing his
slaves. Justin hoped that he would, although he knew that it would cause trouble, even outrage, between
the Vallerands and many important Creole families.
While Justin worked on the plantation, Celia spent the entire day with Noeline in one of the slave cabins,
caring for a mother and two children who had fallen ill. Justin was glad of the time spent apart from Celia.
He did not want to face her just yet, not with the knowledge that he was going to lose her. Last night he
hadn t been able to stay away from her. But the more he loved her, the more important her safety had
become, more important than his own life or his own needs. She would be safe with Philippe, and she
would come to find contentment with him. That was all that mattered.
Risk strode in solitude from the beach on Crow Island to the fort, illuminated by the red glow of sunset.
In less than a minute he was besieged by three men bent on divesting him of his weapons. He held them
at bay with his cutlass. Blast ye, keep yer paws off, he said. I m here at the invitation o Nicky
Legare, ye stupid bastards.
Growling insults and warnings, the three of them forced him to surrender his sword, pistol, and knife,
then accompanied him toward the fort. Risk adopted a cocky grin, calling out cheerfully as he caught
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sight of a few men who had formerly sailed with Captain Griffin. Ahoy, ye slimy traitors!
Roughly he was ushered inside the fort to Legare s private rooms. He would have guessed that a man
with Legare s unimaginable wealth would surround himself with treasure and finery, but instead the rooms
were painfully spare. No objects of art, beauty, or luxury adorned the place. Risk had seen prison cells
that offered more comfort. It confirmed the opinion Risk had always held that the man wasn t quite
human. Legare sat on a low, hard bench, his arms resting on a rectangular table.
Mr. Risk, Legare said crisply. The lamplight struck a crimson glint off the dark pupils of his eyes. I ve
been expecting you.
Risk gave him a mocking bow. Aye, Griffin delivered yer kind invitation, Cap n Legare. Now, if ye
don t mind, I d like to see about that other victim of yer hospitality, namely Dr. Vallerand.
By all means, let us pay him a visit. Legare stood up and walked to him. And on the way, Mr. Risk,
perhaps we can discuss a few things
Aye, the arrangements for the exchange.
Perhaps first we should talk about your future.
Talk all ye want, Risk said airily. I m hard of hearin , meself.
Legare opened the door, his gaze sharp on Risk s face. Perhaps not as much as you think. In my view,
Griffin has made a poor bargain with you, Mr. Risk. You do something for him, and he repays you with
nothing.
Tis called loyalty, Risk muttered.
An expensive proposition, this loyalty. Expensive for you.
Ye re wastin yer breath, Risk said stiffly.
I m not finished yet, Legare murmured, leading the way down to the underground prison.
Step by step, Risk followed him.
The next evening Justin went down to the bayou to wait for Risk. He had not seen Celia for twenty-four
hours. She had kept a vigil all night and day with the fever-ridden mother and children in the slave cabin.
In the meanwhile, Justin was certain that Risk would bring the news he wanted, and their plans would
proceed accordingly. It would be a relief to have it confirmed that his brother was alive. He loved
Philippe, and would have even if his twin hadn t been the most gentle-spirited and honorable person he d
ever known. Philippe had never been exposed to real violence before. God only knew what five months
of imprisonment might have done to him. Oh, he was going to enjoy killing Legare!
Justin s thoughts were interrupted by the awareness that Celia was coming to find him. He knew it even
before he heard her footsteps and her soft voice.
Justin& you have been avoiding me.
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What do you want? he asked, trying to sound brisk.
To wait with you.
Justin glanced at her. Although the night was cold, Celia wasn t wearing a cloak or shawl. Her
long-sleeved dress was blotched on the bodice and under the arms with perspiration. It was clear she
was tired from hours of leaning over sickbeds and stirring herbs and syrups in boiling pots. An acrid
medicinal scent clung to her, instead of the usual fragrant lavender. Her hair was drawn back in an uneven
coiled braid, while several locks straggled over her forehead and cheeks. He wanted to take care of her,
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