Stormy Persuasion (6 page)

“Don’t know. All I know is this is a big delivery, so the captain is coming to town
himself for it. He’s got quite a few establishments here eager for the finer stuff
that he supplies now, those that cater to the gentry. Cuts them a deal they can’t
refuse.”

“I need names.”

“I don’t know, I swear! Mr. Olivey does. You should be asking him—”

“He’s not going to be answering anything tonight, but you aren’t telling me anything
useful either. That better change, and quickly.”

“It
was
the captain who set you up. He had a man watching your crew in Southampton. You shouldn’t
be so predictable, boyo, always coming back to the same port.”

Nathan ignored the gloating tone for the moment. “Is that how Grigg has managed to
avoid me?”

“Aye, he never docks in the same place twice. But since you do, it was easy to set
a spy on your crew when they were in Southampton. He was there when you sent your
men that message that you needed to reload your cargo to move it to a safer spot.
He even overheard where they were to meet you with your ship and when.”

“How was that ambush arranged so quickly?”

“Because Captain Grigg was in town that night. He was told about your change in plans.
He sent his spy to a revenue ship in the harbor, and the rest you know.”

“What I need to know is where I can find him,
boyo
. So if he doesn’t have a base, why don’t you tell me where he stores his cargo.”

“I can’t because he doesn’t. D’you really not know how many men work for him? Half
of them just drive the wagons and simply wait for him to beach, unload, and they cart
the goods straight to the buyers. No hiding it like we used to. No giving the revenuers
that patrol the waters a chance to find us. He arranges everything in advance and
has been operating that way for years. There’s nothing more I can tell you.”

“Yes, there is,” Nathan said in a quieter tone. “You can tell me why he killed my
father.”

“Well, your sis—you don’t know?”

Nathan lifted the man a little off his feet to get his point across. “Tell me.”

“I know nothing. Nothing!” The sailor’s jaw was clenched, but he was shaking like
a leaf. “I wasn’t working for him back then.”

Nathan pulled the man away from the wall and raised his fist warningly. “The tavern?”
he growled. “Last chance to say something useful.”

The sailor’s eyes widened. “There’s an alley behind it, that’s all I ever see of it.
The cap’n’s of a mind that the less we know the better. Only Mr. Olivey gets told
when, where, and who. But I heard him call the bloke we deliver to Bobby.”

“The owner?”

“Don’t know, never asked.”

Nathan smashed his fist into the man’s face. “Too little, too late,” he muttered,
but the man couldn’t hear him.

Nathan hurried back to the tavern to rouse Mr. Olivey for more information, but he
slowed as he approached. The watch had found Grigg’s defeated crewmen. All four of
them were still unconscious, didn’t even stir as they were lifted and placed in a
wagon to be taken to jail. Nathan wasn’t even surprised. The man who had laid waste
to them really was a bruiser.

Nathan was disappointed, but if the sailor he’d questioned could be believed, and
he probably could be, Nathan knew much more now than he had before. And if his new
turn of luck held, Grigg wouldn’t be caught by Burdis before Nathan returned to England.

Corky was in the small crowd gathered in front of the tavern, but he was nervously
looking around for Nathan rather than watching what was going on. Nathan waved to
draw his attention.

Corky ran over to him immediately. “We better get back to our post and quickly. The
owners of the ship came by to see how the loading was going and got caught in a fistfight.
Someone actually knocked out one of them and he’s furious.”

“That’s—unfortunate,” Nathan said with a sinking feeling. “Did they board?”

“No, not tonight. Where did you take off to?”

He gave Corky the short of it, saying, “Grigg’s men are in town. I had words with
one of them.”

“He’s operating out of London? I know he’s cagey, but I didn’t take him for a loony.”

“He only delivers here to a number of buyers, but I got a lead on one of them. It’s
the first clue I’ve had about Grigg’s whereabouts since he killed Jory. And now I
know where to look for him when we get back to England.”

“Or you could send word about him to your commander friend.”

“Hell no, and he’s not my friend. He’s just a revenuer using me to get himself a promotion.
Our goals merely line up—temporarily.”

Corky tsked. “Connections have their uses, particularly if they come with titles.
It doesn’t serve your best interests to hate all nabobs just because of your sister’s
in-laws.”

“I don’t hate them all. Only the ones I meet. Now it’s late and we sail in the morning.
We need some sleep. They can wake us if any more wagons show up.”

“I’d agree, ’cept this one might be for us.”

Corky was talking about an approaching coach, not a wagon. Yet it did stop and the
driver called down, “Are you with
The Maiden George
? If so, I have passengers who want to board now.”

Chapter Ten

L
ast night, Nathan had thought the couple were an odd pair, as he and Corky rowed them
and an inordinate amount of heavy luggage out to
The Maiden George
. The man had introduced himself as Count Andrássy Benedek, a relative of the ship’s
captain. The woman’s name hadn’t been mentioned. They spoke English but the man had
a foreign accent. And they didn’t seem to like each other. Although the pair had been
whispering to each other, Nathan had gotten the impression that they were bickering
and didn’t want to be overheard. The woman’s pretty face had looked angry.

Nathan had felt sorry for the bloke, though. A henpecked man if he’d ever seen one,
and he looked no older than twenty-five, his own age. Far too young to be stuck with
a shrew for a wife, pretty or not, if that’s who she was to him.

But this morning as the dawn sky brightened, Nathan was surprised to see Benedek joining
him at the rail. Escaping the shrew? Nathan might have remarked on it, one man commiserating
with another, if he didn’t want to avoid drawing attention to himself on this trip.
Besides, the man was titled.

Class distinctions didn’t used to mean anything to Nathan. Having an earl for an ancestor
probably accounted for his attitude, not that he’d ever mentioned that to anyone or
ever would. It was galling that Burdis had found out. In fact, if someone called him
gentry these days, he’d probably punch him in the face. He preferred to simply treat
all men as equals whether they wanted to be or not, but most nabobs felt differently.

His reticence turned out to be a good decision because the count wasn’t alone for
long. His companion from the night before arrived a few moments later, saying, “You
can’t ignore me, Andrássy!”

“Can’t I?” Benedek shot back. “Not another word about it, Catherine. I am
not
going to ask them for any more favors when I only just met them.”

“But one of them could have the insight, could tell me if my father really is alive,
or even where he is. You could at least ask.”

“And have them think I’m crazy? The supposed magical abilities of Gypsies is just
superstitious nonsense and trickery. That’s what Gypsies do. They prey on the hopes
and dreams of the gullible. They tell you what you want to hear and get paid for it.
None of it is true and I’m not going to insult this branch of my family by mentioning
these notions of yours. My God, do you listen to yourself, spouting such nonsense?”

“Of course I believe it, when I’ve seen you display the Gypsy gift occasionally. Deny
it all you want, but you know it’s true.”

“All I have is the instinct of a tracker and luck. There’s nothing mystical about
that, Catherine. And I’ll use those instincts to find your father, if just to be rid
of you for good!”

“How dare you! You wouldn’t even know about these relatives of yours if not for me!
I found that journal that mentioned them. You owe me!”

“I owe you nothing, although I will honor the obligation my father saddled me with
when he married your mother!”

“Perfect, luv. You really are a master of improvis—”

Nathan couldn’t hear any more as the pair moved farther down the deck, but the woman’s
voice had changed to a purring tone there at the end, as if she really was offering
praise.

But glad to be alone again at the rail, Nathan raised the spyglass he’d borrowed from
Artie, the crusty, old first mate, for a closer view of the wharf. A longboat had
been dispatched for the passengers because there were so many of them. Quite a crowd
of well-dressed people were on the dock, waiting for it. But he wasn’t interested
in them.

He trained the eyepiece up and down the wharf as far as he could see. He was meticulous,
stopping to peruse faces, making sure he didn’t recognize any. He didn’t expect to
see any of Grigg’s men this soon, but Grigg might show up himself looking for them.
And if he spotted the man, he couldn’t say if he would risk losing
The Pearl
to get his hands on him now.

Jory had decided to send Nathan away five years ago to protect him. Despite how angry
Nathan had been because of it, he’d still loved the man. He felt angry to this day,
but for a different reason: because he and his father had never made amends and it
was too late to now. But that had been Jory’s decision, too. No communication at all
was to pass between them that could lead Grigg to Nathan, who could then be used against
Jory. But settling that score for his father was
his
decision. And even with the ship soon to sail, he still had that on his mind.

As Nathan continued to scan the wharf with the spyglass, he found it a bit disconcerting
to come across a fellow with a spyglass of his own trained right on Nathan. No one
he recognized, well dressed in a greatcoat, a gentleman by all accounts. The man gestured
to his head, as if tipping a hat to Nathan for having discovered him spying on
The Maiden George.
The man was even smiling before he put his spyglass away and got into a rowboat that
took him out to one of the other ships.

Many ships were anchored in the river, unable to dock yet. Southampton’s port was
crowded, too, but nothing like London’s. Weeks could go by before a ship could get
a berth in this town, or so he’d been told.

“See anything interesting, Mr. Tremayne?”

Nathan glanced at the sailor who’d come up next to him. He’d said his name was Walter.
Nathan knew him in passing from Southampton, but then the whole crew had been hired
out of Southampton.

“No, just someone a little too interested in this ship. He actually had a spyglass
trained on us.”

Walter shrugged. “So? Just looking for someone.”

“I suppose.” Nathan glanced down at the stretch of water between the ship and the
dock.

The longboat was halfway back to the ship, and it wasn’t full of passengers after
all, just four men and five ladies, not counting the sailors rowing them. He figured
a few of those people could be ladies’ maids and valets. Most of the people he’d seen
on the dock must only have been there to see their family or friends off, because
they were now getting back into carriages.

“There don’t appear to be many passengers,” he said.

“Well, it’s a privately owned ship designed to accommodate family comfortably. The
captain had her built to his specifications. All of the main cabins are like rooms
in a fancy hotel.”

Nathan knew how lavishly appointed the cabins were. He hadn’t mentioned it to anyone,
but he hadn’t been able to resist inspecting
The Maiden
George
when he’d been docking
The Pearl
next to it for the last year.

“You’ve sailed on her before?” Nathan asked Walter.

“A few times over the last decade, and I’m glad of it. I actually gave up the sea,
but I’m always up for a voyage on
The Maiden George
. It pays too well to turn it down, and it’s never boring. Did you not wonder why
the purse was so high for this crossing?”

Nathan hedged. “Well, this is my first time across the Atlantic, so I had nothing
to compare it to.”

Walter chuckled. “It’s triple the standard, mate. A pity she leaves her berth so rarely,
or I’d be rich by now.”

“If she doesn’t get much use, why does the owner even keep her?”

“Because he can.”

“Merely for convenience?” Nathan said. “That isn’t normal, is it?”

“Not even close to normal. But then, neither is the captain. That’s him there, Viscount
Ryding, just one of many titles in his family.”

Nathan followed Walter’s gaze back to the approaching longboat. Now that the sky had
brightened and the boat was closer, he could make out the occupants more clearly,
but he looked no farther than the large man in the front of the boat. Blond, with
broad shoulders under a greatcoat, he was the bruiser who’d rescued Nathan on a whim.
And his dark-haired brother was in the boat, too.

Nathan’s sinking feeling returned. He’d actually hoped when they hadn’t boarded last
night that the owners weren’t going to sail with their ship. Many didn’t, merely hired
captains for them. But it looked as if his luck had just taken a swing for the worse,
and now he was going to have to make himself scarce, at least until they got out to
sea where it would be less likely that they’d toss him overboard. Up in the rigging
would suffice before they boarded, and he might even stay up there for the duration
of the trip down the river.

It didn’t matter which of the two was the captain. They were both nabobs and he’d
struck one of them. And even if he could somehow make it right with them, he was still
going to hate working for a lord no matter how long the trip took. The nobility had
a whole different way of thinking compared to ordinary men. As different as night
and day. They could take offense at the simplest thing that wouldn’t normally raise
a brow. You wouldn’t even
know
you were insulting them until it was too late.

Then the sun rose over a couple of buildings in the east to cast a beam along the
water. Copper hair lit up like a flame in the sunlight and instantly drew his eyes.
The young woman ought to have been wearing a bonnet to hide magnificent hair like
that, but she wasn’t. She was old enough—eighteen, nineteen?—to have her hair done
up fancy, but it was simply tied back at her nape. Because it was so long, the wind
still tossed it over her shoulders. Her clothing, though, was clearly that of a young
lady, a blue velvet coat tied at the waist, a white fur cape that merely capped her
shoulders, ending only halfway down her arms. But it was her beautiful heart-shaped
face that tugged at a memory that wouldn’t quite surface in his mind.

“The red-haired wench, she looks familiar.”

He didn’t realize he’d said it aloud until Walter admonished him, “I wouldn’t be calling
that one a wench if you don’t want to end up in the ship’s brig or worse. The cap’n’s
a fair man, but he can be a might touchy when it comes to family, and she’s probably
a member of his. Never seen him take on passengers who weren’t related to him in one
way or another.”

A whole ship full of nabobs? Corky had been right. Bleedin’ hell. But he assured the
sailor, “I meant no disrespect.”

“Was just a friendly warning, mate. You know how that family is. Very,
very
protective of their own.”

“I wouldn’t know. Never heard of the Malorys until I signed on and was told the captain’s
name.”

“Really? Thought everyone knew who they are.”

“So they’re famous? Or notorious?”

“A little of both.” Walter laughed as he walked away.

Nathan hightailed it over to the rigging and started climbing, determined to postpone
his next meeting with the Malorys for as long as possible.