Authors: Elizabeth Boyle
Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #General
Crossing her arms over her chest, she stood her ground and remained on the curb's edge. "What is it that you want?"
Like most bullies and thieves, he backed down when challenged. At least this time. "Where is de Ryes?"
"I'd like to know the same thing, my lord," she said. "I've been trussed up and danced about for nothing. I'd like to be gone from London. But I can hardly be asked to point out a bloke who doesn't show, now, can I?"
The Lord Admiral looked up at the gaily lit windows of the Weston ballroom. "Well, he should have been here. Everyone who is anyone was here tonight."
"Not de Ryes. Perhaps his circles are higher than even your
lofty
status can afford." She'd said it before she thought, and his swift reaction came like a thunderbolt not even she expected.
He backhanded her across the face, hard and swift, with an anger and strength that told her only too clearly this man was dangerously close to the edge.
The blow sent her staggering against his carriage, but she didn't allow herself to fall.
Her hand went to her stinging cheek. "Don't cross me, my lord. I hold the key to everything you need. You and your Navy will never catch de Ryes at sea; he's too much a sailor for any of your lot to cross sails with. And without me you'll never find him on land."
The Lord Admiral's fist rose again, but it halted in midair as Lady Mary came flying out of her carriage.
"My lord! Have you lost your senses?" the lady cried as she rushed to Maureen's side. "How dare you hit her, my lord! It's unheard of!"
The Lord Admiral clenched and unclenched his fists, as if he were coiling for another strike, but Lady Mary's protests must have finally entered his conscience, for he tipped his head to her and then smoothed out his jacket.
But his words held all his pent-up anger. "If this creature were a lady, that would be the case. You seem to have forgotten, Lady Mary, I found her on her way to the hangman, and I can give her back to him at any time. You would also do well to remember that your husband's future depends on this creature's veracity. If she's played us false, everything you hold dear," he said, swinging his arm toward the carriage and footman, "will be lost. For all of us."
He turned swiftly on Maureen. "Mark my words, if you are lying to me, if you don't know de Ryes, you will regret ever crossing me."
"I know the man," she spat. "On that you can depend. But as I said, it is hard to find a man who doesn't want to be found."
"I don't care. I want him stopped now." There was no missing the finality of his words. "As it is, if you don't discover his identity before next week, I'll see you hang despite your claims."
With that he swept past them and reentered the Weston town house.
Maureen resisted the urge to fling her knife into his back. She doubted at this point even Lady Mary would protest such an unladylike demonstration.
She turned her attention to her kindly "godmother." If she expected tears, she was surprised to find the lady looking equal daggers into the Lord Admiral's back.
"Why, that horrible man," Lady Mary said, wrapping her hand around Maureen's arm and hauling her back toward their carriage. "Are you hurt, my dear?" she asked once they were settled into the conveyance and on their way back to Cheapside.
Maureen shook her head. "My father always said I inherited his hardheaded ways. I suppose he gave me his thick skull as well. Besides, I've taken worse in the past. Far worse."
This didn't abate Lady Mary's anger with the Lord Admiral. "Why, I think I will have William lodge a complaint with the Admiralty. Such outlandish behavior is uncalled for."
Maureen reached over and patted the lady's hand. "Captain Johnston cannot cross his lordship, not if he hopes to ever get another commission." She leaned back in her seat. "Never fear, my lady. The esteemed Lord Admiral will regret the day he hit me."
This seemed to provoke Lady Mary even more. "Maureen, please don't do anything foolish. I won't see you abused any further, or worse ..."
The lady obviously couldn't bring herself to say the final word —
hanged.
She crossed the space between them and sat on the cushion next to Maureen. "The Captain and I have a high regard for you. In the past few weeks, you've come to mean more to us than I can say. Like family." She smiled and caught Maureen's hand in her soft one.
"Once you find this man, you don't have to return to the sea. You could stay with us. No one will ever question your position. As far as everyone would know, you'd remain my dear and beloved goddaughter."
Maureen didn't know what to say. Her eyes misted over. No one had looked out for her welfare like this since her father had died.
"Lady Mary, you know that is impossible. The Lord Admiral would never allow it, and as he said, I don't belong here."
"Bah!" the lady said. "What does Peter Cottwell know about the
ton?
As if he were born to his title and position. 'Twas his ambition and his ruthlessness that brought him to where he is. The man's a fraud."
Even as she said it, Lady Mary looked as if she regretted her heated outburst, for her mouth snapped shut and she looked away from Maureen.
"What do you mean, he's a fraud?" Could there possibly be a chink in the Lord Admiral's impenetrable armor?
Lady Mary's brow furrowed. "William would take away my pin money if he knew what I was telling you, but you need to see that crossing the Lord Admiral is dangerous. Others have tried and failed."
Like my father, Maureen thought, recalling Julien's warnings. "But how can he be a fraud? Surely his titles are his?"
The lady shook her head. "Hardly. He wasn't born to his position. Though he was a gentleman, he didn't have the connections necessary to rise as quickly as he wished. He was ruthless and ambitious, and it didn't bother him to see good men fall in his wake to get the promotions he wanted. Through a twist of fate, he inherited a barony from a cousin who died under mysterious circumstances."
"Certainly, this cousin's family had some say in the matter? Wasn't there an inquiry?"
Lady Mary shivered. "Hardly even a question asked. The other relatives, scattered as they were, didn't care to cross him any more than their cousin had." She looked out the window, as if she didn't dare look Maureen in the eyes as she said, "He will make good on his promise to see you hang if he thinks you haven't been honest with him. Don't cross him, Maureen. Find this de Ryes he wants so badly and hand him over. Then you'll be free of Peter Cottwell and his evil ways."
Maureen didn't think the lady sounded all that convinced that she would be free once de Ryes was caught.
But the warning was clear. Cross the Lord Admiral, and death would be her reward.
How could she tell the dear lady, she'd signed her own warrant the moment she'd laid eyes on Julien D'Artiers?
The first thing Maureen did when she entered her bedchamber was to unlatch her window. But not for the reasons Julien had offered; rather, she needed to warn him.
Tell him that the Lord Admiral had suddenly turned dangerous.
But as the hours passed, Julien did not arrive.
She paced about her narrow room and wondered if he truly intended to help her. And if he didn't, whom could she turn to?
Captain Johnston and Lady Mary? She paused at the foot of her bed. They were powerless against the Lord Admiral.
No, she needed connections. Powerful connections, like those Julien and his sisters could provide.
She glanced out her attic window at the rooftops of London. So many houses, so many people. Then it hit her: If her father had been a titled lord, surely there was family who remained, perhaps even members who might be willing to help her.
And there was only one person who could unlock those secrets.
Aunt Pettigrew.
She'd been planning to visit her aunt nearly a month ago, after she'd dropped her cargo off at Sheerness, but then fate had intervened and she'd been unable to go.
It had been nearly four months since she'd been out to visit her aunt, a long time even for Maureen. She'd done her best to schedule her shipments so she could visit the elderly woman periodically and check up on her welfare.
Now there was another reason to go, one she hadn't wanted to consider before today, but time was running short and she needed to get to Greenwich.
If the worst came to pass and she didn't escape the Lord Admiral's machinations, then she had best see to some final business at Aunt Pettigrew's.
The tide would be going out for another couple of hours, and she could catch a ride with a passing ferryman downriver to Greenwich, complete her business, then make the return trip on the incoming flow.
She left a quick note for Lady Mary, explaining that she would be back before sundown, and then went out the window. Despite Lucy's claims that the back stairs and coal door were a better way to elude the Lord Admiral's guards, Maureen felt more comfortable with what anyone else would consider a foolhardy climb.
Hopefully, this wouldn't be the last time she'd visit the little house where she had lived for five years and that now harbored her future.
In more ways than one.
Julien had watched Maureen and her guardian leave the ball early and smiled to himself. In an hour or so he would make his farewells to his sister and follow his wife.
Much to his chagrin, he was waylaid by the Lord Admiral, who invited him to a late supper at White's. Julien, pressed as he was to discover the information he needed and wanting to appear the willing prospective bridegroom, had no other choice but to accept.
The dinner turned out to be a long, drawn-out affair, with the Lord Admiral doing most of the talking. The only information of any value that Julien gleaned from the big windbag had been pompous hints that he was about to bring the Admiralty its greatest victory to date.
Julien knew the man was more full of hope than truth. For if the tide of the American war didn't change soon, the people of London would be mobbing the Admiralty. Especially with the prices for imported goods skyrocketing and, in some cases, such as sugar, tripling.
The
Times
and other London papers had taken to printing scathing editorials and loathsome caricatures of the Admiralty's inability to stop the terrible losses being incurred by British merchantmen at the hands of American privateers, with the leader and key problem the notorious Captain de Ryes.
And unfortunately for the Admiralty, every day brought news of at least three more lost ships.
How was it, the British press wanted to know, that a group of bastards and upstarts with their fir ships could continue to outwit the mighty oak vessels of England? It hadn't helped that de Ryes had taken several merchantmen in the last month and a half, while another cheeky American privateer had sailed right into Dublin harbor and sunk a schooner.
Why, the very nerve! the press had cried. And if the Irish shores weren't safe, what the devil would the Americans try next?
For all the man's posturing stance and wild claims, Julien knew the Lord Admiral didn't want to find out.
But none of it seemed to bother the Lord Admiral tonight. He told Julien, in all confidence of course, that this naval war was about to change drastically. In a matter of days, the people of London would regard him with much the same favor that they still held for their dear, dead naval hero, Horatio Nelson.
It was nearly dawn before Julien was able to extract himself from the Lord Admiral's stuffy company, and despite the chance of being seen climbing into Maureen's window, he had to at least tell her why he hadn't been able to keep their assignation.
To his surprise he arrived at the Johnston house only to spy Maureen shimmying down the drainpipe, under the very nose of the Lord Admiral's guards.
With the skill born of years aboard ship, she clung to the building as if it were a second skin and descended to the street without making a noise.
Once she'd dropped to the cobbles below, she moved as silently down the alley as a cat hunting a mouse.
Since he could hardly call out to stop her without being seen himself, he set out to follow her.
The little minx, he thought. She's probably coming to find me and give me a regular lashing for not showing up.
But Maureen didn't turn in the direction of his Mayfair address; rather, she slipped down the street heading toward the docks.
Where the hell was she going?
He trailed after her, curious to discover what his impetuous wife was up to. He assumed she was off on some harebrained venture to steal back her ship in the veiled light of early dawn, but at the docks, to his complete surprise, she hailed a passing ferryman and headed downstream, well past the
Retribution.
There was nothing Julien could do but follow. It wasn't until he passed the Tower that it occurred to him where Maureen may be headed.
Her Aunt Pettigrew's in Greenwich.
But for what and why? The lady must be in her eighties by now and hardly seemed a likely ally against the Lord Admiral.
Since he'd come this far, he saw no point in turning back. Besides, he felt better watching Maureen's back, knowing she was safe.
So he followed her through the streets of the little village and down a lane to the edge of town, where a quaint stone house sat. The sun had now risen, and the bright morning light revealed a well-trimmed short hedge surrounding the small yard, while flowers bloomed from every available bit of earth. A stone walkway led from the gate at the lane's edge to the front door.
He smiled to himself as he heard Maureen's voice ring out in happy greeting as she bounded through the door.
Lounging back in an alley, he kept an eye on the house for about twenty minutes, when suddenly the door opened and someone came out.
Yet it wasn't Maureen who came stalking out the front of Aunt Pettigrew's house, but a young lad of no more than seven or eight.
The boy didn't look all that happy to leave the house and kept glancing over his shoulder as if he wanted to change his mind and return inside. He yanked his cap down lower over his head and kicked and scuffed his way to the gate. In his hand he held a turnover, which he proceeded to take vicious bites out of.