Skull and Dagger

If her father had ever given her any good advice, it was this: A woman should never trust what a man promises to her in heat of passion. And, right now, Annabelle was practically seething at the truism of it.

Having returned to the dinning hall, Annabelle and Frank had taken their seats once more, although Frank had strategically placed himself between Bob and Annabelle this time. He gave his former captain a cold look and returned to his food.

Bob opened his mouth to speak, but a harsh glance from Gerard shut him up immediately. Annabelle wondered what on earth could’ve transpired to make the pompous and confident Bob actually listen to Frank's first mate. She figured she could probably get the story from Elzabeth later.

The ice that had fallen upon the dinner was soon broken, however, when a blond woman dressed in the most diaphanous thing Annabelle had ever seen approached Bob and whispered something into his ear. He seemed to freeze in place for a second before casting a nervous glance in Frank's direction.

Frank's own eyebrow rose in response, and he intently watched the pair continue to whisper back and forth frantically for a few seconds before the blond slipped from the room once more. “Still holding up with Darla, then?” he inquired casually. The steely glint in his eye indicated all too clearly that he demanded to know the subject of their conversation as well.

“She’s a pleasant distraction,” Bob said simply. “Shrewd, too.” He took another swig of his ale. “Has ears all over the world.”

Frank's head tilted to one side as he studied Bob. “Oh?” he tried to sound disinterested as he took a bite out of his bread.

“Something you might want to know,” Bob agreed with a sly smile.

Annabelle had some sense of foreboding and let her hand under the table stray to Frank's knee, seeking comfort from his touch. His tensed body relaxed an almost miniscule amount under her caress.

“And what would that be?” Frank inquired.

“It seems some old ‘friends’ of ours still have a few contacts somewhere high up,” Bob seemed to delight in teasing his former first mate.

“ ‘Friends’?” Frank hated taking the bait, but patience had never been one of his virtues.

“Old man Williams,” Bob leaned back with a sigh. “He’s a persistent bastard, gotta give him that…”

Frank was squeezing the knife in his hand so tightly that Annabelle feared that the handle would snap and he would hurt himself. Cautiously, her hand moved above the table and she caught it from him, blushing slightly at the display of affection in front of all these strangers. Not that many were paying attention to what she was doing, of course.

“Williams is broke,” Frank said calmly. “And all his associates know better’n to deal with him if they want their shipments to get through…”

“True,” Bob agreed, taking an almost delicate sip from his goblet, “but there is one distributor that need not fear pirate attacks…”

Frank's brow furrowed for a minute, and Annabelle bit her lip.

“The navy,” she finally said softly, eyes widening when the answer came to her.

Bob raised his golden goblet in her direction. “Smart girl you’ve got yourself there,” he said with a quick flash of the seductive smile he’d used on her earlier.

Frank shook his head. “Williams power is entirely in business,” he insisted.

“Was, my boy,” Bob corrected. “It seems the old swine’s figured your little scheme out at last.”

Gerard frowned. “There’s no way the navy would agree to deliver Williams shipments,” he insisted.

“It would be a waste of British Naval resources,” Elizabeth agreed perkily.

“Like I said,” Bob said with a shrug, “friends in high places.”

Frank's brow furrowed. “I'm not about to attack the navy,” he finally commented, taking a deep swig of his own ale. “Hate to let Williams get away, though…”

Annabelle frowned at this. It had been, what? Less than half an hour ago that they’d been discussing retiring to a sunny villa? “There’s nothing you can do about it,” she informed him somewhat primly.

“The girl’s got a point,” Bob agreed. “Tough luck is all.” A hint of a smile twitched at the edge of his lips. “Unless…”

“Unless what?”

Annabelle rolled her eyes. Frank wasn’t actually falling for this, was he?

“Williams has taken heavy losses,” Bob answered, “due to your tireless efforts, of course…” He raised his goblet in Frank's direction.

Annabelle felt about ready to strangle Bob for his over-dramatic theatrics. Why couldn’t he just spell it out?

Apparently, she wasn’t the only one who thought so because at that moment the previously silent Sites finally couldn’t stand it anymore. “Would you get to the bloody point already?” he demanded, annoyed.

The entire room paused and blinked at the language the priest had chosen to use.

Sites' face flushed slightly, but then he shrugged it off. “Well, it was damn irritating!” he defended himself, daring anyone to comment on this latest blasphemy.

“The point,” Bob interrupted the awkward silence that followed, more than a little amused himself at the priest’s antics, “is that Williams only has two offices remaining. On in London and a second along the coast that he uses for shipping.”

“His cargo has to go through there,” Frank realized, his eyes narrowing in a predatory manner.

“It would be impossible to defeat a navy ship,” Bob agreed, “but if Williams' shipments were destroyed before they even entered the navy’s hands…”

The sinking feeling in Annabelle's stomach increased as this new line of conversation progressed. She could tell by the glint in Frank's eye that he was sorely tempted by Bob's plan.