Free The Diamond King by PATRICIA POTTER

the rail and scrambling down a ladder in her skirts.
    “Oh no, my lady,” her maid said. “I canna do that. I will fall to my death, I will.”
    “I will go first,” she said. “You will see how easy it is.”
    To Alex’s surprise, Claude appeared out of nowhere and offered his hand.
    She ignored it and climbed over the barrier, then very carefully took one step after another. She almost slipped at one point, and he found himself holding his breath. She might be a Campbell, but he’d always liked spirit in a woman. His sister... well, his sister had had more than he’d ever expected.
    Two sailors reached for her as she took a final step to the bobbing boat. Alex caught a glimpse of petticoats and even a leg. Her face turned rosy as she looked up and her gaze found his as she regained her balance on the rocking boat.
    She quickly looked away, her eyes obviously searching for her companion. “You see, Celia, no one is going to let you fall.”
    The woman named Celia gave a little cry.
    “I’ll take her, Captain.” Alex glanced up at hearing Burke’s voice.
    So apparently did Celia.
    She quickly moved over the railing to avoid him and started climbing down, terror in her face. She stilled, her hands seemingly frozen to the rope ladder.
    A wave broke over the bow of the quarter boat, and the maid to the Campbell wench screamed. The boat bobbed and Alex knew that if she fell, she might land between the ship and the quarter boat and be crushed.
    He didn’t wait. Ignoring the pain and awkwardness of his leg, he climbed down the net to where she clung. “It’s all right,” he said in a voice he barely remembered. Soothing. Reassuring. “You’ve done very well. I’ll be in back of you. You cannot fall.”
    She hung there for another moment, sighed as if she’d been holding all her breath inside. Then she let one hand go and grabbed another piece of rope. Alex moved behind her, ready to catch her if she fell. Then they waited until the longboat moved back into position.
    “Let go,” he said, moving to the side. “The seamen will catch you.”
    She turned, frightened cornflower blue eyes staring at him, stared at him for a moment, then she did as she was told and toppled backward into the hands of two sailors.
    He climbed back up without looking behind him.
    “Mrs. Carrefour,” he said.
    She too looked frightened. But she looked even more offended. “My husband can go down first. He can help me onto the ... the boat.”
    “As you wish. You have two minutes to get in, or all your belongings will be heaved into the ocean.”
    Geoffrey Carrefour moved faster than Alex thought possible. He climbed down the ladder as well as any monkey. Alex decided to check the couple’s belongings. He would not, as he promised, allow harm to come to them, but he was bloody hell ready to relieve a slave-owning plantation owner of some of his ill-gotten gains. In his eagerness, Correfour almost missed the boat as it bobbed and weaved again. One leg went into the ocean, the other into the boat, and the seamen clasped his waistcoat, hauling him inside.
    He muttered audibly about Scottish bastards, then found a more secure perch in which he awaited his wife’s descent.
    After that, the other passengers descended one by one without comment. Their belongings were thrown into the boat. Finally there were only Captain Talbot, Claude, and the second mate, who would sail the
Charlotte
to Martinique.
    “I leave it with you, Marcel,” Alex said. “You have enough sail to make it to Martinique. You’d better keep flying the British flag. We will catch up to you.”
    “Aye, sir.” The second mate’s eyes glowed at the chance.
    Alex turned to Talbot. “Your turn, Captain.”
    Talbot didn’t say anything but climbed down. Alex and Claude followed him.
    As the oarsmen rowed away, Alex sat in the back of the boat and examined his passengers. The Carrefours had their hands on a valise. The two government servants looked as if they were