Three Heroes (57 page)

“Mariette’s arm is broken, Papa,” she whispered in French.

He looked at it as she climbed up beside him. “I can’t fix it now, sweetheart. There’s no need to whisper.

She’s gone.”

Delphie looked up at him with huge eyes. “I like to whisper.”

He held her close as weak tears escaped.

Delphie looked at Arabel, then put the doll into her hand. “You can have her for a little while.”

Arabel doubtless didn’t understand French, but she clutched Mariette as if the doll could take her back to her loving home.

Dare leaned his head back and did the only thing he still could. He prayed.

When Clarissa woke the next morning she was thrust abruptly back into the horrific situation. She sat up, wondering where the poor children had spent the night. She looked at the window and realized it was raining. That seemed suitable. This was the day of battle. Presumably at some point Therese Bellaire would tell them where to send the money. The money Clarissa prayed had been coming in through the night.

Then she would tell them where the prisoners were.

If Hawk hadn’t found them beforehand.

Althea stirred and smiled, clearly full of more pleasant thoughts. “Clarissa,” she said, turning sober and sitting up, “would you mind very much if I returned with Mr. Verrall to Bucklestead St. Stephens? He can’t be away long, you see, because of the children. And… and I want to go home. I’m very sorry, but I don’t like Brighton very much.”

Clarissa took her hands. “Of course you must go. But all the way with only Mr. Verrall?”

She was teasing somewhat, but Althea flushed. “I’m sure he can be trusted.”

“Ah,” said Clarissa, “but a chaperone is not to keep the wolves away. It’s to keep the ladies from leaping into the jaws of the wolves.”

“Clarissa!” gasped Althea. But then she colored even more. “I know what you mean. But,” she added, “

it’s not like that with Mr. Verrall and me yet, and I’m sure I can trust him to be a gentleman.”

Clarissa smiled and kissed her. “I’m sure you’ll be very happy, no matter what happens.”

They both climbed out of bed, and Althea asked, “What of you and the major? It all seemed so strange.”

Clarissa didn’t want to lie. She looked at Althea and said, “I’m not sure you want to know.”

Althea blushed again. “Perhaps I don’t. But are you going to marry him?”

“Oh, yes,” Clarissa said. “I’m sure I am.”

As soon as she was dressed, she hurried downstairs and told Miss Hurstman about Althea’s plans, and that she herself was going over to the Vandeimens’ house. She was braced for battle, but Miss Hurstman nodded. “I’ll come over myself when Althea’s on her way. Take the footman, though. Just in case.”

So Clarissa was escorted all the way, astonished that she had never considered that she might be in danger. After all, she was the one who was technically in possession of Therese Bellaire’s money.

She arrived without incident, however, to find that wealth had poured in, but that nothing new had turned up to tell them where the hostages were.

There was a heavy sack of jewels. Some were Blanche’s theatrical pieces, but most were real. A great deal of it had come from Lord Arden, including, originally, what Blanche had referred to as Lucien’s necklace, which was a ridiculously gaudy piece with huge stones in many colors; it had to be worth thousands.

Clarissa smiled at the friendly, understanding love that had given the White Dove something she would never wear but something that would amuse her, and keep her if she ever fell into need.

A strongbox had come from someone in London, and more from Lord Middlethorpe in Hampshire.

Clarissa looked at it all, remembering with some satisfaction that all these people would be paid back from her money.

But then she realized that would mean that Hawk would lose Hawkinville. She could bear that, but she ached for the poor people there, and she knew the pain must be ten times worse for him. Ignoring the presence of all the others, she went to where he sat, clearly furious at himself for not being able to solve the problems singlehandedly. Jetta was curled at his feet. Tentatively, Clarissa put her hand on his shoulder.

He started and looked up, then covered her hand with his. “Where do we stand?”

She smiled. She too wanted this clear. “On our own two feet? I suppose that should be four. I meant what I said about using my money to pay everyone back. Even if they resist.”

He turned to face her. “I know. It’s all right.”

“What about Hawkinville?”

“That’s not all right, but if it’s the price, I’ll pay it.”

She raised his hand and kissed it. “If you happen to have a ring, I’d be proud to wear it.”

He stood, smiling, and produced it, slid it on her finger.

She smiled back at him, not teary at all, but firmly happy that things were right. About this, at least.

“And now,” she said, “please solve all our problems, sir.”

He groaned, but said, “I don’t expect always to do miracles, but in this case I feel that I’ve missed something.”

She sat down beside him. “What if I go over it? She snatched the baby from the Court and brought it to Brighton. Lord Darius and the children had already been brought here by Old Matt. I assume he hasn’t said anything?”

“He’s dead, love. The alcohol killed him.”

It sent a chill through her. One death could so easily be followed by more.

He took her hand. “She might not have meant to kill him.”

“But she didn’t care, did she?”

“No,” he admitted. “She didn’t care.”

She pulled her mind straight and tried to help him again. “She sent a note…”

But he said, “Wait! Smuggler’s brandy! Smugglers,” he said to the room at large. “Of course! She’s linked up with smugglers. She’s on a boat.”

The room suddenly buzzed, and Susan said, “I know smuggling.”

“Do you know any smugglers here?” Hawk asked.

She pulled a face. “No, but my father’s name will count.”

Even more interesting, thought Clarissa. But she was fizzing with excitement, too.

“Go out and see what you can learn. Con—”

“Of course I’m going with her.”

The two men shared a look, then laughed.

The Amleighs left and Hawk paced. “She’s on a boat, ready to take off for the Continent as soon as she has the money. I’ll go odds she has her hostages on the boat too. No, not on the same boat—on another boat. We need to check the fishermen as well as the smugglers. They’re not always the same thing. Van?

And see what there is that we can hire. We need to be on the water.”

Lord Vandeimen left, and Hawk looked around the room. “I wonder if anyone but Susan knows how to handle a boat.”

“She’s a smuggler?” Clarissa asked tentatively.

“Just closely connected,” said Hawk with a smile that was partly excitement. “We’ve cut through her lines at last. We’ll have this all tight by evening.”

Time returned to creeping in halting steps. Clarissa kept thinking of the children, wondering if they were still drugged—which would be dangerous—or frightened, or hungry. If they were on a boat, were they safe or could they fall overboard and drown? Were there rats?

She knew it must be much worse for the Delaneys, but they seemed to have found a stoic calm as they waited.

Con and Susan returned first. “I made contact eventually,” Susan said. “I had to persuade Con to go away. He has far too much of a military look about him. I put the word out and offered a reward, but no one would say anything directly. They’ll send word here if there’s anything.”

“Can you sail a fishing boat?” Hawk asked.

“Of course,” she said, as if it were the most common thing.

“We weren’t all raised by the sea, you know. With any luck, Van has found us a boat. We need to be on the water this evening when the payment is made.” He looked out of the window at the sea, choppy and gray on this miserable day. There were plenty of boats bobbing at anchor. Clarissa wondered which ones held the villain and the hostages, and what would happen if they searched them all.

Disaster, probably.

Then Lord Vandeimen returned. “The Pretty Anna,” he said, eyes bright. “I can point it out.”

“We’ve hired it?” Hawk asked.

“No. We’ve hired the Seahorse. The Pretty Anna is probably where Dare and the children are. The young man who owns it has been acting strange recently. Not going out fishing on good days, disappearing now and then. Talking about traveling. Yesterday he talked to one man about selling the Pretty Anna to him.”

“Show us.”

Everyone crowded to the window, and Lord Vandeimen pointed out one small boat among many, but that one had the dull glimmer of a lantern, showing that someone must be on board.

“Can we go?” Eleanor asked. “Now?”

But there was a new knock on the door. There seemed to be a confusion of footsteps, then the door opened. “A message for Mr. Delaney,” the footman announced, the paper on a silver tray.

Nicholas strode over to take it.

“And,” intoned the footman, “there’s a man at the back door asking after Lady Amleigh.”

Susan rushed out, pushing the footman out of the way. Someone shut the door on him. Everyone looked at Nicholas.

“She must have caught wind of our tack. It’s the Pretty Anna, now, with whatever valuables we have.

No promise of telling us where the hostages are.” He looked at Clarissa. “You and I are to take the ransom, dressed in only the lightest clothes.”

“Clarissa?” said Hawk. “That’s not acceptable.”

“I agree,” said Nicholas. “I’ll go alone.”

“No. If she wants me, I have to go. We can’t risk the children.”

“She probably has no intention of telling us where they are,” Hawk said. “And with luck, we can find them with the other boat.”

“Luck is not acceptable.”

“Use some sense! She’ll probably take you as a new hostage.”

“I’d die first,” said Nicholas.

“So you’d be dead. What good would that be?”

Silence crackled.

Clarissa put her hands on his arm. “Hawk, I have to go. With or without your blessing.”

He glared at her, but then brought himself under control. “All right. I go with Susan. I’m a strong swimmer. If we can close, I can swim over.”

“You’ll need weapons,” Nicholas said.

Hawk’s knife appeared in his hand.

Nicholas said, “I have something similar upstairs. But Clarissa could do with one too.”

Clarissa shook her head. “I can’t use a knife on someone.”

“You can if you have to.”

“I’ll get something from the kitchen,” Maria said and hurried away.

Susan came in, bright with excitement. “We’ve got her! She’s paying Sam Pilcher to take her to France.

He has a fast cutter he claims can outrun the navy. He was taken with her charms, but he’s beginning to wonder.”

“Is she on the boat now?” Nicholas asked.

“No. He’s just been sent word that she’ll be there in the hour. But,” she added, “he swears there’s no one else on the boat now. He’ll take someone of ours out there to capture her.”

“I’ll go,” said Lord Vandeimen, clearly itching for action.

“And I,” said Major Beaumont.

Susan went out with them to introduce them. Clarissa heard her instructing them not to act like military men.

“So,” said Hawk, “she has them on the Pretty Anna. She’ll plan to take the money there, then probably be rowed over to the other ship. Susan can block that as soon as we have the hostages. I don’t think it will be so easy.”

“She’ll take Arabel with her,” Nicholas suggested.

“It’s possible. You have to kill her, you know. She’s a viper. You can’t take her to court, and if she gets away you’ll never know when she’ll be back, more vengeful than before.”

“You can’t doubt I will if necessary.”

Maria came back with a handful of knives. “Cook’s in tears.”

The note specified that Clarissa was to wear only a dress—no spencer or cloak. Nicholas was to be in breeches and shirt. Few places to hide weapons. No place to hide a pistol.

Soon Clarissa had a narrow knife tucked down her gown in front of her corset, carefully pinned in place in a kind of sheath. The heavy linen protected her from the blade, but she could feel it, hard and unnatural.

“I still don’t think I could use it,” she said to Hawk, who had put it there without a hint that he found it arousing.

He looked at her, all officer. “Don’t let her hurt you without a fight. Go for the face. She’s vain. For the eyes with your fingers and nails. If this works properly, however, I’ll be there to take care of you.”

He kissed her fiercely and left with Con and Susan for the Seahorse. Clarissa saw Jetta streak to catch up and hoped the cat truly was descended from an ancient Chinese warrior line.

Nicholas had two knives tucked away. They gathered the money and jewels into a heavy leather bag.

“We’ll delay a little,” he said to Clarissa. “Give the others time. But we can’t wait too long. All right?”

Clarissa felt the electricity of fear, and wasn’t sure if it was bad or good. “Yes. I suffer terribly from impatience, though. I want to get on with it.”

“Let’s go, then.” He went to kiss his wife.

As he swept Clarissa out of the room, however, she saw the expression on Eleanor Delaney’s face. She looked as if she feared that she would never see her husband again.

The rain was a weary drizzle, soft but chill. They crossed the deserted Parade to the seafront, then headed right. “Now that we’re out here there’s no need to hurry. She’s probably watching through a telescope, and if she sees we’re doing the right things, it will be all right.”

Clarissa scanned the choppy gray sea for Hawk and Susan, but there were so many boats, and she couldn’t even tell if most of them were moving or not.

“Why did Eleanor look so very frightened?” she asked. “Did she think we’re to be murdered?” She was proud of her level tone.

Nicholas looked at her. “It’s old history. I got on a boat with Therese Bellaire once before and she didn’t see me for six months. She thought I was dead. We’re on a basis of truth, aren’t we? The truth is that Therese might want me dead, but she certainly wants to taunt me, to finally prove that she can win. I don’