"Let's do it anyway. There's a plantation about half a mile west down the coast. Ralph Warner. He's in the Assembly."
He pulled the other pistol from his belt. "Now, after you fire the first barrel, pull that little trigger there, below the lock, and the second one revolves into place. But first check the prime."
"That's the first thing I did." She frowned in exasperation. "I'll wager I can shoot almost as well as you can. Isn't it time now you learned to trust me?"
"Katy, after what's just happened, you're about the only person on Barbados I trust at all. Get ready."
He raised the gun above his head and there was the sharp crack of two pistol shots in rapid succession. Then she quickly squeezed off the rest of the signal. She passed back the gun, then pointed toward the settlement at Oistins. "Look, do you see them? That must be some of the Windward Regiment, down by the breastwork. That's their regimental flag. They've probably come down to welcome the fleet."
"Your handsome fiance seems to have sold his soul, and his honor. The royalist bastard . . ."
He paused and caught her arm. From the west came two faint cracks of musket fire, then again. The signal.
"Let's get back to Bridgetown as fast as these horses will take us. I'm taking command of this militia, and I'm going to have Anthony Walrond's balls for breakfast." He was almost dragging her down the incline. "Come on. It's one thing to lose a fair fight. It's something else to be cozened and betrayed. Nobody does that to me. By Christ I swear it."
She looked apprehensively at his eyes and saw an anger unlike any she had ever seen before. It welled up out of his very soul.
That was what really moved him. Honor. You kept your word. Finally she knew.