Love's Peril (Lord Trent Series) (42 page)

“Jean Pierre!”

He should have screamed for help, but before he could, Raven Hook had a pistol pressed to his temple.

“If you utter a peep,”the bloodthirsty Mr. Hook warned, “I will blow your stinking head off.”

Jean Pierre stepped in so Hedley was stuck between him and Mr. Hook. They were tall and tough and menacing. He was shaking, certain Mr. Hook would follow through on any threat.

“At my trial, Hedley”—Jean Pierre’s voice was low and severe—“people claimed I wasn’t The French Terror. But guess what?”

“Miss Dubois told me everything!”Hedley spat.

“Well, she’s been adjudged a liar, so I wouldn’t necessarily accept her version. But are you positive you should keep talking about me?”

“If you repeat your opinion ever again,”Mr. Hook grumbled, “it would definitely qualify as a death wish. Are you ready to meet your Maker, you pathetic little worm?”

“I’m not afraid of you,”Hedley contended, but he was trembling so fiercely that if Mr. Hook hadn’t been holding him, he’d have collapsed to the cobbles.

“You’re not afraid of me?”Mr. Hook snarled. “You should be.”

Mr. Hook lifted and turned him so they were directly beneath the streetlamp.

“Look at my face, Hedley,”Jean Pierre said.

“What of it?”

“See any resemblance?”

“No.”

“He wouldn’t,”Mr. Hook scoffed. “He’s too stupid to notice what’s right before his eyes.”

“Guess what I hate the most, Hedley,”Jean Pierre groused.

“What?”

“I hate being betrayed.”

“You deserved it! You’re a criminal! You’re a menace to society!”

Mr. Hook whacked him on the temple with the butt of the pistol, hard enough that Hedley saw stars.

“Do you know who Florence is, Hedley?”Jean Pierre inquired.

“Florence? Florence?” His mind raced as he tried to place the name. “My aunt? My mother’s sister? That Florence?”

“Yes, that Florence.” Jean Pierre grinned an evil grin. “There is one fact you have heard these last months that is absolutely true. My mother was Florence Harcourt, so you and I are cousins.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I don’t care. I’m openly claiming kinship, which means I’m the elder male in the family.”

“Never.”

“From now on, I’m making all the important decisions.”

“You are not!”

“My initial act was to buy up all your debt.”

“You what?”

Hedley struggled to sort through the ramifications. His debt was enormous. What was the benefit to Jean Pierre? What was the benefit to Hedley? He was quite sure there was no benefit and could only be great detriment.

“I refuse to have you own it!”

Mr. Hook sneered, “You should be a tad more grateful, Hedley.”

“Give it back to my creditors.”

“I’d rather not,”Jean Pierre said, “and besides, they’re glad to be shed of you. You’re a bad risk.”

“I’ll tell my mother,”Hedley declared. “She won’t let you get away with this.”

“How will she stop me? She’s poor as a church mouse—all because of you. As a favor to your sister, I will support Mildred to rescue her from your recurring folly.”

Hedley’s reasoning was muddled, so he couldn’t accurately assess the situation. Why would Jean Pierre assist Mildred? She’d participated in his arrest. Why wasn’t he angry about that duplicity? His generosity to her made no sense.

“I don’t want you involved with my mother.”

“I doubt she’d agree with you. I hear she’s desperate.”

“She’s not desperate,”Hedley blustered. “I’m taking care of her.”

Mr. Hook snickered. “You live in such a world of fantasy, Hedley.”

“Since she’ll be totally dependent on me,”Jean Pierre continued, “she’ll never be able to aid you in any fashion unless she first gains my permission.”

“What are you saying?”

“Your days of mooching off her, of deceiving and using her, are over.”

“You can’t come between a son and his mother. It’s not right.”

“It’s time for you to grow up, Hedley.”

“I’m plenty grown, thank you very much.”

“No. You’re a sniveling, annoying child. How old are you?”

“Twenty.”

“You have to abandon your juvenile ways and learn to be a man.”

“You’re talking in riddles.”

“Jean Pierre usually kills people who betray him,”Mr. Hook said, “so you’re lucky. He’s giving you a second chance. Because of his blood relationship with you. Because of your sister.”

“I should murder you,”Jean Pierre added, “and put you out of your misery. But your death would distress Sarah, so I won’t.”

“How very magnanimous!”Hedley sarcastically oozed.

“Shut up,”Mr. Hook ordered, “and mind your manners when speaking to Jean Pierre.”

“I won’t be silent!”Hedley fumed. “You can’t—”

Mr. Hook clobbered him with the pistol again, and Hedley’s meager protest was ended. He gaped up at Jean Pierre, yearning to see a glimmer of compassion, but his eyes were cold and blank, no emotion visible.

Hedley didn’t understand Jean Pierre’s dislike. Everyone had always loved Hedley, so he was able to convince them to let him act however he pleased. Only Jean Pierre couldn’t be seduced by Hedley’s many charms. His aversion was palpable, and Hedley was extremely confused by it.

His dizziness was increasing, his headache pounding more relentlessly. He peeked up at the streetlamp, and there was an odd blue glow around it. For a frantic moment, he worried that he was going blind.

“How are you feeling, Hedley?”Mr. Hook asked.

“Not very well.”

“It will get worse shortly, but you’ll live through it.”

“What do you mean?”

“A fop like you,”Jean Pierre advised, “shouldn’t drink alone down by the docks.”

“Why not?”

“Disreputable tavern owners drug your whiskey.”

Hedley was horrified. “Why would they?”

“So you pass out. So they can hand you over to an unscrupulous ship captain who is looking for warm bodies to man the sails.”

“I don’t wish…to…to…man the sails.” His words were beginning to slur. He was losing his ability to speak, to stay on his feet.

“It doesn’t matter what you wish. The captain will have paid a bribe to the tavern owner, and you’ll be delivered, bound and gagged.”

“The captains have difficulty,”Mr. Hook added, “mustering a full crew. The work isn’t very…pleasant. There’s a high turnover, a high death rate. They’ll take anyone. Even a rude, obnoxious dolt like you.”

Hedley would have complained, but his lethargy was escalating.

He was about to say something, but what was it? Before he could recall, a gag was stuffed between his lips.

“You shouldn’t have hurt Sarah,”Jean Pierre said. “You don’t deserve to be her brother, and you’ll never have another chance to harm her.” Quietly, he vowed, “I swear to you, Hedley. I swear it on my life.”

I never hurt Sarah,
Hedley insisted behind the gag, but he had. He’d squandered her dowry. He’d gambled away her home. He’d given her to a violent stranger.

“I’ve indentured you to an acquaintance,”Jean Pierre explained. “He’s not bad for a captain, so you’ll probably survive. Just keep your mouth shut, learn a few lessons, and you should be all right.”

“Five years, Hedley,”Mr. Hook murmured in Hedley’s ear. “He’ll bring you back in five years—if you’re still alive.”

“Use the time wisely, my little cousin.” Jean Pierre looked more evil, more menacing than ever. “Grow up and become a man. For if you return in the same condition as you left, I will be happy to rid the world of your sorry presence.”

Hedley felt his wrists and ankles being tied, felt himself being hoisted over Mr. Hook’s shoulder. His next conscious thought occurred many hours—or perhaps days—later.

With a great deal of effort, he opened his eyes, and he scowled, anxious to ascertain what had transpired. He was stretched out on a narrow wooden bunk, in a dark, dreary kitchen. A sloppy, disheveled man was chopping vegetables over at a table.

Hedley wanted to sit up, to demand the man’s identity, but the floor seemed to be swaying. He was incredibly nauseous, the gentle rocking exacerbating his discomfort.

“Where am I?”he croaked, but his tongue was swollen, his mouth so dry he might have been chewing on sand.

The man didn’t glance up, and Hedley tried again.

“You there, sir! Where am I?”

The man frowned and laid down his knife.

“So you’re alive, are ya? Figured you was dead, sure enough.”

He grunted a comment in a foreign language and went back to his vegetables.

Hedley’s focus was improving, and he pushed himself up on an elbow. He studied his surroundings, seeing numerous hammocks hanging from the rafters, barrels and crates and ropes neatly coiled.

He blanched with shock. “Am I…am I…on a ship?”

“You’re a real genius, ain’t ya?”the man answered.

Hedley pondered furiously, struggling to recall his last cogent memory. He’d been in a tavern in London. The bartender had plied him with drinks even after he’d run out of money. He’d grown too intoxicated and…and…

Jean Pierre! Raven Hook!

Hedley lurched up, but the bunk above him was very close, and he banged his head on it so hard that he nearly knocked himself unconscious.

For a few minutes, he lay very still, letting his pulse slow, then he rose more carefully. His beautiful coat was gone. His jewelry. His purse. His boots. He was wearing only his trousers.

“Where are my clothes?”

“Sold.”

“They must be returned to me at once!”

“Won’t happen. You won’t be needing them anyways. The captain has clothes for you.” He pointed with his knife. “There on the floor. Best put them on and get yourself up on deck.”

“To do what?”

“Work. What do you think?”

“I don’t wish to work.”

“You have to if you intend to be fed.” The man grinned maliciously. “No work, no eat.”

Hedley shook his throbbing head. “There’s been some mistake. I demand to speak with the captain.”

“He’s busy.”

“But I must inform him that I’ve been robbed.”

“Kidnapped, too.”

“Kidnapped! But…that’s a crime.”

“Not where you’re going.”

“Listen to me: Have you heard of a vicious pirate named Jean Pierre? He’s The French Terror. This is all his fault. He hates me. I had him arrested, and I was supposed to receive a reward for his capture. You have to turn this ship around and take me back to London.”

“Not possible,”the man scoffed. “And sonny?”

“Yes.”

“Jean Pierre’s a hero on this vessel, so you’d better mind your tongue. There’s many a fellow who’d be upset to learn that you’d caused him trouble.”

“He’s a murdering felon!”

“Not in this world, and you’re not in London anymore. You’ll get your throat slit.”

Groaning with dismay, Hedley flopped onto the bunk.

He cursed Jean Pierre and Raven Hook. He cursed Annalise Dubois. He cursed the stupid judge who’d released Jean Pierre. He cursed Sarah who now owned Bramble Bay. He cursed his mother for being so far away, for not saving him.

Then he closed his eyes and wailed like a baby.

* * * *

“I demand entrance.”

“Well, I
deny
entrance.”

Mildred glared at Caroline. They were on the front stoop at Bramble Bay, with Mildred assuming she could bluster her way in, but Caroline was blocking the door.

For most of two decades, she had mothered Caroline. Grudgingly, she would probably admit that she hadn’t done the best job, but she’d been irritated to have the foolish girl foisted on her.

Bernard had been her father’s friend. Bernard had been named her guardian. Not Mildred. Yet Bernard had dragged her home and insisted Mildred raise her, but Mildred had never liked Caroline.

Despite Caroline’s flaws, Mildred had found her a husband, and she’d tossed him away in order to roll in the gutter with a criminal. Now, Archie was dead, and Caroline was widowed and merrily carrying on at Bramble Bay as if she’d never been a wife.

Mildred was the one in a jam. She had no husband, home, or money. She’d been living with Sheldon for months but had overstayed her welcome.

She’d tried every trick to get him to propose, but he’d ignored her sly coercion. He constantly asked when she would be returning to Bramble Bay, and she had to accept that he would never marry her and was eager for her to leave—but he was too polite to come right out and say so.

She’d packed her bags and traveled to Bramble Bay in Sheldon’s carriage. But before she could sneak in, Caroline had appeared, almost as if she’d been watching for Mildred.

Mildred pulled herself up to her full height, intending to intimidate and bully as she would have in the past, but for once, her confident manner had no effect.

“Let me in,”she seethed.

“No.”

“I must speak with Sarah. Where is she?”

“She’s been in London, frantically working to save your nephew’s life.”

“I heard she succeeded.”

“No thanks to you.”

“I heard she was back.”

“She left again.”

Mildred gnawed on her bottom lip.

They’d received precisely one newspaper that had contained wild accounts of an outrageous trial that had ended with a not guilty verdict. Apparently, Mr. Sinclair had strolled out of the courthouse a free man, and Mildred spent every moment in a frenzy of fear, wondering if he was on his way to Bramble Bay, wondering what he would do to Mildred when he arrived.

She couldn’t locate Hedley. Where was he? Annalise Dubois had been jailed on perjury charges. Had he been incarcerated with her? If the deceitful harlot had brought doom to Hedley, Mildred would wring her neck.

“When will Sarah return?”she asked.

“I couldn’t guess.”

“Is she with Mr. Sinclair? Are they coming to Bramble Bay?”

“I have no idea.”

She studied Caroline, disturbed by her cool, steely attitude. Caroline had always been flighty and flippant, easily manipulated and maneuverable. Events had altered her. Their roles had been completely reversed, and Caroline held all the cards.

Mildred dipped her head, trying to look contrite. “I apologize for my sharp tone.”

“Apology accepted.”