Authors: Brenda Novak
Tags: #romance, #historical, #historical romance, #pirates, #romance adventure, #brenda novak
“I’m not after your money,
just a bit of information.”
The sun’s rays were just
creeping over the horizon, and Trenton let the light reflect off
the blade of his knife.
“What do you want?” the
duke repeated.
“I’m going to ask you a
few simple questions, and you’re going to answer them. Understood?
Now, where’s Nathaniel Kent?”
Greystone’s face hardened.
“I don’t know.”
Trenton stepped forward,
the point of his knife less than a foot away from the older man’s
midsection, which was still leaner than most men of his years.
“I’ll ask you once more. Where is Nathaniel?”
The woman poked her head
out of the coach and gave a startled cry, but Greystone waved her
back inside and she quickly complied.
The duke’s gaze flicked to
the knife, then back to Trenton’s face. “He’s in Liverpool. I had
him taken out of London because I have a friend, a magistrate, who
agreed to put him in a gaol there for a while.”
“So Nathaniel is alive.”
Trenton tried not to show his relief. His friend was in gaol, but
he was alive. “That’s all I needed to know. Now, move over to that
tree.”
Suspicion entered
Greystone’s eyes. “What are you going to do now?”
“Less than you deserve, to
be sure. Now move!”
The duke backed up to the
tree and Trenton tied him to it.
“I’ll take the carriage
for now,” Trenton said, “and drop your lady friend near the edge of
town. I’m sure she’ll bring help, though it might take a day or two
to find you.”
He gave Nathaniel’s father
a mocking salute, then stowed his knife and climbed into the
driver’s seat, laughing as he drove away.
* * *
Alexandra groaned silently
as she dusted yet another small table in the drawing room near the
main entrance of Greystone House, a room she hated for its
excessive conglomeration of furniture and bric-a-brac. It had been
several days since she had sent her message to Trenton, but she’d
received no response. Had the milkman not delivered her letter as
he had agreed?
“There you are.” Lord
Clifton filled the doorway.
“Good morning, my lord.”
She smiled congenially, pushing her fears for Trenton and Nathaniel
to the back of her mind. “Are you finished with breakfast so
soon?”
“Yes. Breakfast was a
brief affair. We’ve had some unfortunate business to attend to this
morning.”
Alexandra kept her voice
as neutral as possible. “I’m sorry to hear that, my lord.
Everything is going to be all right, I hope?”
He nodded, studying her.
“You’ll never believe what happened, though.”
She finished wiping off
the whatnot shelf in the corner and began to replace the extensive
collection of porcelain thimbles and birds she had removed. “What’s
that?”
“Evidently Nathaniel has
disappeared, and his men are looking for him. They held my father
at knifepoint at dawn.” He picked up an ivory elephant that graced
the table next to the window and examined it
thoughtfully.
Alexandra paused from her
work. “Nathaniel has disappeared? From Newcastle, you
mean?”
“From everywhere. Like I
said, his men are looking for him. You wouldn’t happen to know
anything about it, would you?” He set the elephant back where he
had found it and turned to look at her with such intensity that
Alexandra almost dropped the vase she cradled in her
lap.
“How would I?”
“I was just wondering how
they knew where to find my father.”
Alexandra set the vase
down. “I’m sure I don’t know. Perhaps they followed
him.”
The marquess smiled and
crossed the floor, coming to stand behind her. “You’re probably
right. I’ve always liked you, you know. You have a certain...
appeal.”
He touched the nape of her
neck, but Alexandra didn’t move. She felt the pressure of his hand
on her shoulder, turning her toward him, and risked a glance at his
face. The look in Lord Clifton’s eyes reminded her of Rat and the
way he had looked at her in Nathaniel’s cabin.
The marquess’s hand
traveled over her shoulder and traced her collarbone, then started
down toward her breast. His gaze followed his hand as it moved
inexorably lower until Alexandra could stand his touch no longer.
She pulled away, attempting to hide her distaste by averting her
face.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“You didn’t react that way when Nathaniel touched you.”
She remembered how her
pulse had raced at the slightest contact with the pirate captain.
Clifton’s fondling brought nothing but revulsion. “I had no choice
when Nathaniel touched me.”
“I can give you much. I
have never taken a mistress before, but I would be generous. I
could get you out of here”—he glanced around them—”and into a place
of your own. You would have clothes and jewelry, nearly everything
you want.”
Alexandra shook her head.
“You have no idea of what I want.”
“I know what every woman
wants. Are you so different?”
“I want a family of my
own,” she countered.
“I didn’t say children
were out of the question.”
Alexandra moved back,
putting a few feet between them. “I didn’t say I want children. I
said I want a family—and that means a husband.”
A look of irritation
descended on Clifton’s face, and his next words sounded
incredulous. “Certainly you’re not so naive. You can’t expect me to
marry you. Someday I’ll bear the title in my father’s place. The
son of a duke can’t marry a maid.”
“No, of course not.”
Alexandra let bitterness ooze through her voice. By demanding the
one thing Lord Clifton could never give her, she hoped to keep him
at arm’s distance until she was able to help Nathaniel. Depending
on what Trenton had learned at the Greentree Tavern, that could be
sooner rather than later.
“I’ve got to finish my
work,” she said. “If you will excuse me.” Setting the porcelain
birds back on their shelf with a clink, she skirted past the
marquess and darted through the door.
* * *
That night Alexandra found
a small gift lying on her pillow. She worked later than the other
maids, so they were usually asleep by the time she climbed to the
attic. Tonight was no different. She glanced around the room,
wishing she could ask one of them where the package had come from,
then contented herself with opening it.
Soon the answer was
obvious. A pair of diamond ear-bobs sparkled in the mellow light of
her candle, simple yet elegant, and obviously expensive. A note
fluttered to the ground from the open box. She retrieved it, then
bent toward the light so she could read the sloppy writing of Lord
Clifton’s left hand.
Dear Alexandra,
Please accept these as a
token of my esteem.
There are many good things
in life, besides marriage.
Fondest wishes,
Jake
Stunned, Alexandra sat
numbly on her cot, staring at the teardrop earrings. Her refusal of
Clifton was producing the opposite effect to what she had hoped.
Instead of keeping him at bay, it created a challenge, causing him
to pursue her, evidently without compunction.
Abbey stirred, prompting
Alexandra to replace the lid. The marquess could give her many
things, anything money could buy, but she wanted only one, and that
was to know what had happened to Nathaniel.
Rising, she decided to
return Lord Clifton’s gift immediately. She didn’t want her fellow
maids to learn of his interest, nor did she want him to think a
pair of earrings could change her mind.
She quickly descended the
back stairs and used the servants’ door to enter the second floor.
The marquess’s bedroom was just down the hall. If he was at home
and the door was closed, she’d leave the small box on the ground,
where he’d nearly step on it come morning. If he happened to be
away, she’d put the earrings on his bed so he couldn’t miss them
when he returned.
Before she’d gone halfway
down the hall, however, she heard voices coming from the library.
Someone was still up. Who? The duke? Lord Clifton? Lady
Anne?
Alexandra paused to
listen.
“Why would you buy such a
costly gift for a maid?”
Recognizing Lady Anne’s
voice, Alexandra crept closer.
“She probably would have
been just as happy with a shawl or other trinket. She’s lucky a man
of your status has decided to take an interest in her.”
“Not this maid. Alexandra
is different.”
The marquess’s sister
laughed. “Are you sure Nathaniel didn’t do something to that head
of yours as well as your hand? I just took your bishop.”
Alexandra heard the clink
of crystal.
“Pour me one, too,”
Clifton said.
There was a moment of
silence, and Alexandra pictured the two of them puzzling over a
chessboard.
“Nathaniel’s getting his
just due for what he’s done to me,” the marquess said.
“Holding Father at
knifepoint is scarcely getting one’s just due.”
“That wasn’t Nathaniel. It
was one of his men. Nathaniel is languishing in prison. He’ll never
get out.”
“He’s at
Newgate?”
Alexandra could barely
hear the surprise in Lady Anne’s voice above the beating of her own
heart.
Nathaniel is alive,
it thumped.
Nathaniel is
alive!
She closed her eyes in relief and
strained to hear Clifton’s next words.
“No, he’s in the hulks at
Woolwich. Not a pleasant place, I assure you. It’s your
move.”
In the hulks? Alexandra’s
eyes flew open. That place was a living hell. Did Trenton already
know? Was that why she hadn’t heard from him?
Or had Greystone captured
Trenton as well? Her heart raced at this last thought. She didn’t
want to be alone in her efforts to help them both.
“Do you ever wonder if
Nathaniel is telling the truth?” Lady Anne surprised Alexandra with
the sudden sincerity in her voice. “I mean, if he is our older
brother, then he has been sorely wronged.”
“I am the one who has been
sorely wronged. Nathaniel’s nothing but a liar and a thief,” the
marquess retorted. “Besides, Father has chosen between us.
Otherwise, Nathaniel would inherit everything, and you and I would
find ourselves dependent upon that scoundrel’s charity. Is that
what you want?”
“Of course not. I was
just—”
“Don’t.”
“But I was only
asking.”
“It doesn’t matter. Some
things are better left alone.”
Alexandra didn’t hear Lady
Anne’s response. The sound of footsteps came from the hall below,
and she fled, seized by a mixture of emotions. Relief that
Nathaniel was alive surged through her, along with a certain
satisfaction in knowing, at long last, his situation. But the
hulks... She covered her mouth, remembering the bits and pieces she
had heard about the prison barges.
At least he was in
London—and still alive. Her mind returned to that one small ray of
hope as she made her way to the attic. Only when she reached her
bed did she realize that she’d forgotten to return Lord Clifton’s
earrings.
* * *
Alexandra received word
from Trenton the following day, but his message said that Nathaniel
was in gaol at Liverpool. Confused, she wondered how that could be.
If Nathaniel was in Liverpool, why had Lord Clifton said he was
imprisoned at Woolwich?
Biting her lip in
consternation, Alexandra considered sending Trenton another
message. She had to let him know what she had learned, but she
hesitated to trust the milkman with yet another letter. He
delivered their correspondence only while traveling his normal
route, so it would be delayed another day. She was certain Trenton
would be on his way to Liverpool by then.
Instead, she approached
Mrs. Wright in the kitchen, arranging her face into a worried
frown. “Mrs. Wright?”
The busy housekeeper
looked up. She was going over something with Cook, but Alexandra’s
tone succeeded in gaining her attention.
“I’m afraid I’ve had some
bad news.” Alexandra clutched Trenton’s letter to her breast. “It’s
my mother.”
“What’s wrong?”
“She’s very ill. My sister
says she’s on her last breath. I was wondering if I might have the
afternoon off to visit her—just this once.”
“Oh dear, child. I didn’t
know you had family close by. Of course we can manage here. Do you
need some money for a cab?”
Alexandra squirmed at
having to lie. “No. I’ll walk or beg a ride with someone who’s
going that way.”
Cook, who stood next to
Mrs. Wright, clucked her tongue in sympathy. “I hope your maman
pulls through, mademoiselle.”
“I’ll use this as my
afternoon off and won’t take another,” Alexandra offered, to
appease her own conscience.