The Adventurers Quartet

INTERIOR ARTWORK

IS LOCATED

BETWEEN CHAPTER 3 AND CHAPTER 4

and also can be accessed via the TABLE OF CONTENTS

STEPHANIE

LAURENS

Lord of the Privateers

The Adventurers Quartet: Volume 4

ISBN-13: 9781460396339

Lord of the Privateers

Copyright © 2016 by Savdek Management Proprietary Limited

Cover design by Savdek Management Pty. Ltd.

Cover and inside front couple photography © 2016 Period Images

The name Stephanie Laurens is a registered trademark of Savdek Management Proprietary Ltd.

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Table of Contents

Introduction

Cast of Characters

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Interior Artwork

Chapter 4

Map of Freetown & Surrounding Areas

Chapter 5

Map of Freetown & Environs

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Caleb’s Sketch of the Mining Compound

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Epilogue

Dear Reader

Other Titles from Stephanie Laurens

About the Author

Can true love die? Or, neglected, does it lie dormant until the object of true desire is again within reach? Denied, does passion smolder, like embers waiting for the right conditions to flare into an all-consuming conflagration?

#1 New York Times bestselling author Stephanie Laurens delivers the thrilling conclusion to her acclaimed series THE ADVENTURERS QUARTET, a passionate Regency-era drama played out on the high seas and in the sweltering heat of tropical jungles, ultimately reaching a scintillating climax in the glittering ballrooms of Mayfair.

The eldest of the Frobisher brothers and widely known as the lord of the privateers, Royd Frobisher expects to execute the final leg of the rescue mission his brothers have been pursuing. What he does not expect is to be pressured into taking his emotional nemesis, childhood sweetheart, ex-handfasted bride, and current business partner, Isobel Carmichael, with him. But is it Isobel doing the pressuring, or his own restless unfulfilled psyche?

Resolute, determined, and an all but unstoppable force of nature, Isobel has a mission of her own—find her cousin Katherine and bring her safely home. And if, along the way, she can rid herself of the lingering dreams of a life with Royd that still haunt her, well and good.

Neither expects the shock that awaits them as they set sail aboard Royd’s ship, much less the new horizons that open before them as they call into London, then, armed with the necessary orders and all arrangements in place, embark on a full-scale rescue-assault on the mining compound buried in the jungle.

Yet even with the support of his brothers and their ladies and, once rescued, all the ex-captives, Royd and Isobel discover that freeing the captives is only half the battle. In order to identify and convict the backers behind the illicit enterprise—and protect the government from catastrophic destabilization—they must return to the ballrooms of the haut ton and, with the help of a small army of supporters, hunt the villains on their home ground.

But having found each other again, having glimpsed the heaven that could be theirs again, how much are they willing to risk in the name of duty?

Learn the answer and revel in the action, drama, intrigue, and passion as the Frobishers—with help from Wolverstone, the Cynsters, and many familiar others—steer the adventure to a glorious end.

Praise for the works of Stephanie Laurens

“Stephanie Laurens’ heroines are marvelous tributes to Georgette Heyer: feisty and strong.” Cathy Kelly

“Stephanie Laurens never fails to entertain and charm her readers with vibrant plots, snappy dialogue, and unforgettable characters.” Historical Romance Reviews

“Stephanie Laurens plays into readers’ fantasies like a master and claims their hearts time and again.” Romantic Times Magazine

LORD OF THE PRIVATEERS

by Stephanie Laurens

CAST OF CHARACTERS

Principal Characters:

Frobisher, Captain Royd – Hero, oldest Frobisher brother and captain of The Corsair

Carmichael, Isobel Carmody – Heroine, only child of James Carmichael and Anne Carmody, and heiress of the Carmichael Shipyards, Aberdeen

In Aberdeen:

Frobisher, Captain Fergus – Royd’s father

Frobisher, Mrs. Elaine – Royd’s mother

Carmody, Mrs. Iona – Isobel’s maternal grandmother and matriarch of the Carmody clan

Carmichael, Mr. James – Isobel’s father and owner of Carmichael Shipyards

Carmichael, Mrs. Anne Carmody – Isobel’s mother

Carmichael, Mrs. Elise – James’s mother, Isobel’s paternal grandmother

Featherstone, Miss Gladys – Royd’s secretary at the Frobisher Shipping Company office

Jeb – head groom at Carmody Place

On board The Corsair:

Stewart, Lieutenant Liam – first mate

Kelly, Mr. William – master

Williams – quartermaster

Jolley – bosun

Bellamy, Mr. – steward

Various other sailors

In London:

Family:

Frobisher, Captain Declan – Royd’s brother and captain of The Cormorant

Frobisher, Lady Edwina – Declan’s wife, Royd’s sister-in-law

Frobisher, Captain Robert – Royd’s brother and captain of The Trident

Hopkins, Miss Aileen – Robert’s intended and sister of Lieutenant William Hopkins, West Africa Squadron

Staff in Declan & Edwina’s town house:

Humphrey – butler

Government:

Wolverstone, Duke of, Royce aka Dalziel – ex-commander of British secret operatives outside England

Melville, Lord – First Lord of the Admiralty

Society:

Wolverstone, Duchess of, Minerva – Royce’s wife, society grande dame, major ton hostess

St. Ives, Duke of, Devil (Sylvester)

St. Ives, Duchess of, Honoria – Devil’s wife, society grande dame, major ton hostess

Cynster, Mr. Harry – Devil’s cousin

Cynster, Mr. Rupert (Gabriel) – Devil’s cousin

Dearne, Marquess of, Christian – ex-member of the Bastion Club, ex-operative of Dalziel’s

Dearne, Marchioness of, Letitia – Christian’s wife

Warnefleet, Jack, Lord – ex-member of the Bastion Club, ex-operative of Dalziel’s

Warnefleet, Lady Clarice – Jack, Lord Warnefleet’s wife

Trentham, Earl of – ex-member of the Bastion Club, ex-operative of Dalziel’s

Hendon, Jack, Lord – owner of Hendon Shipping, ex-operative, ex-army

Hendon, Kit (Katherine), Lady – Jack, Lord Hendon’s wife

Carstairs, Major Rafe – army officer, covert liaison, involved in Black Cobra incident

Delborough, Colonel – ex-army officer, involved in Black Cobra incident

Clunes-Forsythe, Mr. – power broker, wealthy member of the haut ton

Deveny, Lord Hugh – indolent member of the haut ton

Risdale, Marquis of – wealthy member of the haut ton

Cummins, Sir Reginald – wealthy member of the haut ton

Rundell, Mr. Phillip – jeweler, part owner of Rundell, Bridge, and Rundell

Bridge, Mr. – jeweler, part owner of Rundell, Bridge, and Rundell

In Southampton:

Higginson – head clerk, Frobisher Shipping Company office

At Sea:

Frobisher, Captain Lachlan – captain of Sea Dragon

Frobisher, Captain Catrina (Kit) – captain of Consort

In Freetown:

Holbrook, Governor – Governor-in-Chief of British West Africa

Satterly, Mr. Arnold – governor’s principal aide

Eldridge, Major – Commander, Fort Thornton

Decker, Vice-Admiral Ralph – Commander, West Africa Squadron

Winton, Major – Commissar of Fort Thornton

Babington, Mr. Charles – partner, Macauley & Babington Trading Company

Macauley, Mr. – senior partner, Macauley & Babington Trading Company

Ross-Courtney, Lord Peter – wealthy and influential visitor

Neill, Mr. Frederick – well-born and wealthy associate of Ross-Courtney’s

Undoto, Obo – local priest

Muldoon, Mr. Silas – the Naval Attaché

Winton, Mr. William – Assistant Commissar at Fort Thornton

Hardwicke, Reverend – minister of Church of England

Hardwicke, Mrs. – minister’s wife

Sherbrook, Mrs. – lady-employer of Katherine Fortescue

Dave – Cockney coachman

In the Mining Compound:

Mercenaries:

Dubois – leader of the mercenaries, presumed French

Arsene – Dubois’s lieutenant, second-in-command, presumed French

Cripps – Dubois’s second lieutenant, English

Plus twenty-eight other mercenaries – of various ages and extractions

Captives:

Frobisher, Captain Caleb – youngest Frobisher brother and captain of The Prince

Fortescue, Miss Kate (Katherine) – ex-governess of the Sherbrooks and Caleb’s intended

Quilley – quartermaster of The Prince

Foster, Martin, Ellis, Quick, Mallard, Collins, Biggs, Norton, and Olsen – experienced seamen from The Prince

Lascelle, Captain Phillipe – longtime friend of Caleb’s, privateer captain of The Raven

Ducasse – quartermaster of The Raven

Fullard, Collmer, Gerard, and Vineron – experienced seamen from The Raven

Dixon, Captain John – army engineer

Hopkins, Lieutenant William – navy, West Africa Squadron

Fanshawe, Lieutenant – navy, West Africa Squadron

Hillsythe, Mr. – ex-Wolverstone agent, governor’s aide

Frazier, Miss Harriet – gently bred young woman, Dixon’s sweetheart

Wilson, Miss Mary – shop owner/assistant, Babington’s sweetheart

McKenzie, Miss Ellen – young woman recently arrived in the settlement

Halliday, Miss Gemma – young woman from the slums

Mellows, Miss Annie – young woman from the slums

Mathers, Jed – carpenter

Watson, Wattie – navvy

Plus eighteen other men – all British of various backgrounds and trades

Diccon – young boy, eight years old

Amy – young girl, six years old

Gerry – boy, eleven years old

Tilly – girl, fourteen years old

Simon Finn – boy, twelve years old

Plus sixteen other children – all British, ranging from six to ten years old

Plus three other boys – all British, ranging from eleven to fourteen years old

On board The Trident:

Latimer, Mr. Jordan – first mate

Hurley, Mr. – master

Wilcox – bosun

Miller – quartermaster

Foxby, Mr. – steward

Various other sailors

On board The Cormorant:

Caldwell, Mr. Joshua – first mate

Johnson, Mr. – master

Grimsby – bosun

Elliot – quartermaster

Henry, Mr. – steward

Various other sailors

On board The Prince:

Fitzpatrick, Lieutenant Frederick – first mate

Wallace, Mr. – master

Carter – bosun

Hornby, Mr. – steward, carries information to London and returns on The Corsair

Various other sailors

On board The Raven:

Reynaud – bosun, on ship, but returns to the jungle compound

Plus four other seamen – on ship, but return to the jungle compound

Various other sailors

PROLOGUE

Aberdeen

August 9, 1824

Royd Frobisher stood behind the desk in his office overlooking Aberdeen harbor and reread the summons he’d just received.

Was it his imagination, or was Wolverstone anxious?

Royd had received many such summonses over the years Wolverstone had served as England’s spymaster; the wording of today’s missive revealed an underlying uneasiness on the part of the normally imperturbable ex-spymaster.

Either uneasiness or impatience, and the latter was not one of Wolverstone’s failings.

Although a decade Wolverstone’s junior, Royd and the man previously known as Dalziel had understood each other from their first meeting, much as kindred spirits. After Dalziel retired and succeeded to the title of the Duke of Wolverstone, he and Royd had remained in touch. Royd suspected he was one of Wolverstone’s principal contacts in keeping abreast of those intrigues most people in the realm knew nothing about.

Royd studied the brief lines suggesting that he sail his ship, The Corsair, currently bobbing on the waters beyond his window, to Southampton, to be provisioned and to hold ready to depart once news arrived from Freetown.

The implication was obvious. Wolverstone expected the news from Freetown—when it arrived courtesy of Royd’s youngest brother, Caleb—to be such as to require an urgent response. Namely, for Royd to depart for West Africa as soon as possible and, once there, to take whatever steps proved necessary to preserve king and country.

A commitment to preserving king and country being one of the traits Royd and Wolverstone shared.

Another was the instinctive ability to evaluate situations accurately. If Wolverstone was anxious—

“I need to see him.”

The voice, more than the words, had Royd raising his head.

“I’ll inquire—”

“And I need to see him now. Stand aside, Miss Featherstone.”

“But—”

“No buts. Excuse me.”

Royd heard the approaching tap of high heels striking the wooden floor. Given the tempo and the force behind each tap, he could readily envision his middle-aged secretary standing by the reception desk, wringing her hands.

Still, Gladys Featherstone was a local. She should know that Isobel Carmichael on a tear was a force of nature few could deflect.

Not even him.

He’d had the partition separating his inner sanctum from the outer office rebuilt so the glazed section ran from six feet above the floor—his eye level—to the ceiling; when seated at his desk, he preferred to be out of sight of all those who stopped by, thinking to waste the time of the operational head of the Frobisher Shipping Company. If callers couldn’t see him, they had to ask Gladys to check if he was in.

But he’d been standing, and Isobel was only a few inches shorter than he. Just as the glazed section allowed him a view of the peacock feather in her hat jerkily dipping with every purposeful step she took, from the other side of the outer office, she would have been able to see the top of his head.

Idly, he wondered what had so fired her temper. Idly, because he was perfectly certain he was about to find out.

In typical fashion, she flung open the door, then paused dramatically on the threshold, her dark gaze pinning him where he stood.

Just that one glance, that instinctive locking of their gazes, the intensity of the contact, was enough to make his gut clench and his cock stir.

Perhaps unsurprising, given their past. But now...

Nearly six feet tall, lithe and supple, with a wealth of blue-black hair—if freed, the silken locks would tumble in an unruly riot of large curls about her face, shoulders, and down her back, but today the mass was severely restrained in a knot on the top of her head—she stared at him through eyes the color of bittersweet chocolate set under finely arched black brows. Her face was a pale oval, her complexion flawless. Her lips were blush pink, lush and full, but were presently set in an uncompromising line. Unlike most well-bred ladies, she did not glide; her movements were purposeful, if not forceful, with the regal demeanor of an Amazon queen.

He dipped his head fractionally. “Isobel.” When she simply stared at him, he quirked a brow. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

Isobel Carmichael stared at the man she’d told herself she could manage. She’d told herself she could handle being close to him again without the protective barrier of any professional façade between them, too—that the urgency of her mission would override her continuing reaction to him, the reaction she fought tooth and nail to keep hidden.

Instead, just the sight of him had seized her senses in an iron grip. Just the sound of his deep, rumbling voice—so deep it resonated with something inside her—had sent her wits careening.

As for seeing that dark brow of his quirk upward while his intense gaze remained locked with hers...she hadn’t brought a fan.

Disillusionment stared her in the face, but she mentally set her teeth and refused to recognize it. Failure wasn’t an option, and she’d already stormed her way to his door and into his presence.

His still-overwhelming presence.

Hair nearly as black as her own fell in ruffled locks about his head. His face would make Lucifer weep, with a broad forehead, straight black brows, long cheeks below chiseled cheekbones, and an aggressively squared chin. The impact was only heightened by the neatly trimmed mustache and beard he’d recently taken to sporting. As for his body...even when stationary, his long-limbed frame held a masculine power that was evident to anyone with eyes. Broad shoulders and long, strong legs combined with an innate elegance that showed in the ease with which he wore his clothes, in the grace with which he moved. Well-set eyes that saw too much remained trained on her face, while she knew all too well how positively sinful his lips truly were.

She shoved her rioting senses deep, dragged in a breath, and succinctly stated, “I need you to take me to Freetown.”

He blinked—which struck her as odd. He was rarely surprised—or, at least, not so surprised that he showed it.

“Freetown?”

He’d stiffened, too—she was sure of it. “Yes.” She frowned. “It’s the capital of the West Africa Colony.” She’d been sure he would know; indeed, she’d assumed he’d visited the place several times.

She stepped into the office. Without shifting her gaze from his, she shut the door on his agitated secretary and the interested denizens of the outer office and walked forward.

He dropped the letter he’d been holding onto his blotter. “Why there?”

As if they were two dangerous animals both of whom knew better than to take their eyes from the other, he, too, kept his gaze locked with hers.

Halting, she faced him with the reassuring width of the desk between them. She could have sat in one of the straight-backed chairs angled to the desk, but if she needed to rail at him, she preferred to be upright; she railed better on her feet.

Of course, while she remained standing, he would stand, too, but with the desk separating them, he didn’t have too much of a height advantage.

She still had to tip up her head to continue to meet his eyes—the color of storm-tossed seas and tempest-wracked Aberdeen skies.

And so piercingly intense. When they interacted professionally, he usually kept that intensity screened.

Yet this wasn’t a professional visit; her entrance had been designed to make that plain, and Royd Frobisher was adept at reading her signs.

Her mouth had gone dry. Luckily, she had her speech prepared. “We received news yesterday that my cousin—second cousin or so—Katherine Fortescue has gone missing in Freetown. She was acting as governess to an English family, the Sherbrooks. It seems Katherine vanished while on an errand to the post office some months ago, and Mrs. Sherbrook finally saw her way to writing to inform the family.”

Still holding his gaze, she lifted her chin a fraction higher. “As you might imagine, Iona is greatly perturbed.” Iona Carmody was her maternal grandmother and the undisputed matriarch of the Carmody clan. “She wasn’t happy when, after Katherine’s mother died, we didn’t hear in time to go down and convince Katherine to come to us. Instead, Katherine got some bee in her bonnet about making her own way and so took the post as governess. She’d gone by the time I reached Stonehaven.”

Stonehaven was twelve miles south of Aberdeen; Royd would know of it. She plowed on, “So now, obviously, I need to go to Freetown, find Katherine, and bring her home.”

Royd held Isobel’s dark gaze. Although he saw nothing “obvious” about her suggestion, he knew enough of the workings of the matriarchal Carmodys to follow her unwritten script. She viewed her being too late to catch and draw her cousin into the safety of the clan as a failure on her part. And as Iona was now “perturbed,” Isobel saw it as her duty to put matters right.

She and Iona were close. Very close. As close as only two women who were exceedingly alike could be. Many had commented that Isobel had fallen at the very base of Iona’s tree.

He therefore understood why Isobel believed it was up to her to find Katherine and bring her home. That didn’t mean Isobel had to go to Freetown.

Especially as there was an excellent chance that Katherine Fortescue was among the captives he was about to be dispatched to rescue.

“As it happens, I’ll be heading for Freetown shortly.” He didn’t glance at Wolverstone’s summons; one hint, and Isobel was perfectly capable of pouncing on the missive and reading it herself. “I promise I’ll hunt down your Katherine and bring her safely home.”