The Rogue's Surrender (The Nelson's Tea Series Book 3) (20 page)

Percy poured two drinks and handed one to Garrick. “You? I find that hard to believe.”

Garrick gave Percy a nod. “How do you think Delgado caught me in the first place? Devil damn me, if there hasn’t been a traitor on board the
Priory
since the moment Nelson employed us.” He rolled his shoulders then paced. “I only suspected as much when we couldn’t outrun a French ship following us out of the Bay of Biscay. As I studied the
Armide
, I caught sight of someone signaling my ship.” He averted his gaze, preventing them from seeing his face. “At first, I thought I’d experienced… a trick of the light, but my doubts were never put to rest. I ordered Randall and Moore to watch the crew closely. When another French ship gave chase close to the Downs and we eluded it easily, Murray, one of my carpenters, moved into action. Mercy caught him signaling that ship. Once discovered, I can only assume he’d been ordered to kill Mercy should the French fail to overtake us.” Color drained from Garrick’s face as he turned to look at Mercy. “To my horror, before I could stop him, Murray threw Mercy overboard.”

“Did you say, overboard?” Constance’s knees gave way.

Percy quickly shored her up, offering support.

“’Twas nothing, I assure you,” Mercy confided, reaching out to Constance, trying to keep her calm. She frowned at Garrick.

He ignored her glower. His scars protested against his menacing frown. “Nothing? I found her dangling by ropes off the starboard bow, five feet above the swells.”

An odd sound erupted from Constance’s throat. She clutched her neck. “You almost drowned?”

Mercy wanted to reassure Constance that wasn’t the case. She was an excellent swimmer, though she’d been concerned about surviving long enough for the ship to turn around and pull her back aboard. “I can swim.”

“You can swim?” Garrick shouted. “You lied to me!”

Mercy absorbed Garrick’s outburst. “Yes.” She’d lied. He was right to be angry. But knowing Constance’s mother had drowned in the Channel, Mercy couldn’t allow her cousin to ponder the alternative. “It was the most effective way of making sure someone pulled me back aboard.”

Percy scowled at Garrick. His knuckles whitened around the silver tobacco box in his hand. “You took care of the problem, I take it?”

“Aye.”

An image of Garrick’s blade sticking out of the back of Murray’s back swept into Mercy’s vision. “He couldn’t have been working alone.”
Dios mio
, she was glad they had one less traitor on their hands. “The sooner Lord Danbury learns what I know and takes possession of the evidence I brought him, the better.”

“This is monstrous intolerable.” Percy no longer held a dandified air. “Best get to it then.” The rich, deep timbre in his voice was both shocking and frightening with its malevolence.

Percy faced his wife and laid both of his hands on her face. He spoke to Constance quietly, his actions belaying his previous upset. His wife nodded, tears welling in her eyes, as he placed a chaste kiss on her forehead and stepped away to adjust his lace cuffs.

Muscles in Mercy’s body twitched. She rubbed her forearms as gooseflesh erupted on her skin. What if something happened to Percy on his way to Lord Danbury? Could she live with herself knowing she’d severed the bond between two people who loved each other most ardently? Ruining the life of the beautiful cousin she’d only just found?

Garrick and Percy conferred with one another for several minutes.

Mercy watched the man she’d grown to respect and admire, feeling content, knowing between them, Garrick would ensure she and Constance were kept safe until Percy returned. As she watched the two men, there was something in Percy’s character that captivated her. Why keep up the charade of dandy in private? Weren’t he and Constance safe inside their own home? Home was supposed to be the one place a spy could drop his or her defenses.

Wasn’t it?

She thought of Eddie and reality dawned. There were situations where no one could be trusted, not even a most beloved brother, for reasons only a spy could decide. Is this why Garrick insisted on staying with her? Was there someone or something in Percy and Constance’s townhouse that posed a danger to them? Or was the truth simply that Garrick couldn’t access Lord Danbury? Garrick’s past disallowed for emotion so she didn’t delude herself into thinking that his insistence justified he cared for her.

Percy moved to his desk. Retrieving a key out of his waistcoat, he opened a drawer below the center section and produced a gun. Then, moving with agile precision, he opened another compartment and pulled out a sheathed sword connected to a leather belt.

Garrick walked with Percy to the parlor door.

The two men before her were interesting contrasts. Nearly the same height, Garrick was dark where Percy was light. Percy’s handsome face and jovial manner far outshone Garrick’s broad physique and temperamental demeanor.

She’d grown to appreciate Garrick’s nuances but Danbury had only mentioned Percy in passing. In their correspondences, he’d neglected to describe the man’s arresting intelligence or the way he contorted his physique to lead onlookers astray. She felt quite certain now — after hearing his real voice, not the nasal one he used freely — that Percy could easily dispatch an enemy without warning.

Her respect for the duke multiplied. Deep inside however, she was thankful that Garrick had been chosen to protect her. She was able to relax in his presence. That epiphany shocked, appalled, and comforted her at once. Though he was responsible for her brother’s kidnapping, he’d also sworn to keep Eddie safe. To this date, he had yet to lie to her, unlike the way she’d lied to him about her ability to swim, amongst other things. He was an honorable man and he’d die before allowing anything to happen to her.

Mercy shifted uncomfortably on her feet, wondering how life had gotten so complicated. All she’d ever wanted to do was serve England.

Garrick was a pirate, a loner, a wounded man who deserved a woman who’d make him feel safe. Not a woman with a target on her back.

Percy broke away again from a teary-eyed Constance, who’d rushed to hold him one more time, and then opened the parlor doors. He turned to look back over his shoulder and directed his next words to Garrick. “I would have a word before I leave for court.”

“Of course.” Garrick immediately responded, moving to join Percy outside the room.

Mercy attempted to follow but Percy produced an odd sound that stopped her cold. “In private, if you don’t mind, cousin.”

Infuriated, she inhaled a stabilizing breath and nodded.

Constance grabbed her hand and coaxed her back to the settee as the door clicked shut, blocking the two men from view, ensuring she couldn’t eavesdrop on their conversation.

“If anyone can get to my uncle, Percy can. You have my word.”

She wanted to believe her cousin. “Your assurance is all I need, Constance.”

“Now.” Constance smiled. The soft glow transforming her face was a vision Mercy couldn’t resist. Contented to be in her cousin’s presence — for the time being — the two of them sat side by side like old friends. “Tell me about my Aunt Lydia. Has she received my letters?”

~~~~

Percy cast a wary glance down the corridor as the door shut with a resounding click behind them.

He lowered his voice several octaves and secured his sword around his waist. “Successful, I take it?”

Astonished by the possessive emotions coursing through him, Garrick nodded woodenly. He didn’t want to leave Mercy, but he would if Percy asked him. The damned truth was he couldn’t get in to see Simon, even if he tried. It would take a duke to bypass the lords barring Westminster’s doors.

For his part, he trusted Percy and was confident he’d convince Simon to come back to the townhouse. Of all the men in Nelson’s Tea, Percy had the power and means to manipulate and influence rank.

“Aye,” Garrick said, grimacing as he thought of Mercy’s interest in the duke.

A quick examination of the man he admired, ignoring his pompous attire, helped him understand what Mercy must have thought the first time she met the duke. Percy was handsome, approachable, trustworthy, while
he
was a monster, a beast incapable of functioning among lords and ladies of the
ton
without fear of losing control.

He cleared his throat, burying his inadequacies and shallow yearnings deep inside. “There were… complications.”

“Complications? When has there never been an obstacle to hurdle?” He smirked. “Since you are here and Constance’s cousin appears unharmed, I take it your difficulties were not insurmountable.”

Percy’s words cut open a vein. “We managed.” He struggled to remain calm and thread his fingers through his hair, gathering every ounce of patience he could muster. “But the cost may have been too great.”

“What cost?”

Unspeakable barriers were a constant in the world of espionage. He and Percy had both been trained to wade that tide.

Garrick ground his teeth, dreading having to explain the source of his regret, that
Don
Alberto and
Señora
Vasquez remained in Spain. The
don
’s demise would end a thirty-year alliance his family had cultivated between their countries, putting his family out of business.

But that wasn’t all.

One more thing plagued him. Constance. Would she forgive him for honoring her uncle’s wishes and leaving her aunt and uncle behind?

“Garrick, you and I have always agreed no cost is too high when it comes to England. Nothing has changed.”

Everything has changed
. He was no longer the man he was over a year ago. He hadn’t met Mercy. “You are wrong. I found gold on board the
Priory
.”

“Gold?”

Ding. Ding.

They both glanced at the long case clock until the echoing chime faded into silence.

Percy spoke first. “Do you know who the cache belongs to?”

“No. But I suspect Vasquez, or someone above him, intended to deliver it to Calais. Whether the captain is aware of its existence, I do not know.”

Percy pasted a smile on his face and whipped out his quizzing glass. “Calais, you say? Well then… there’s no question who it was intended for.”

They glared at each other and said in unison, “Napoleon.”

Percy crooked his brow. “Where is the gold now?”

“Hidden.”

“Good. We don’t want it to fall into the wrong hands. That little nest egg will be our leverage. As long as we have it, Mercy will be more valuable alive than dead. Now, I must go if I am to intercept Simon before he travels home. He will be eager to hear about the gold.” Percy tapped Garrick with his quizzing glass. “Are you going to tell me what
this
,” he said, waving his quizzing glass, “is about?”

“This?”

“Your present unease. Though I can see the girl has done wonders for your disposition, old boy.”

“Mercy?” Her nickname flew off his tongue so quickly, Garrick was taken by surprise. He liked being able to connect with her on a more personal level… immensely.

“Of course.”

Tension coiled through Garrick’s body as he fought against emotions he’d kept under lock and key. “Nothing can happen to her.” The admission cost him dearly.

“Do not concern yourself. My cousin is safe and no longer your concern.”

“You are wrong.”

“What do you mean?” Percy’s eyes narrowed. “
I
am never wrong.”

Garrick recalled several times when Percy had acted rashly, endangering Constance. “Mercy won’t be safe even after you bring Simon here. I feel it in my bones.”

Percy considered him quietly. Couldn’t he see where Garrick was going with this? If Holt and Murray had betrayed them from within their inner circle, it stood to reason another traitor might be in their midst.

“Perhaps not,” Percy conceded. He hailed Jeffers, who approached with his overcoat.
“Whoever the gold belongs to, they’ll do anything to get it back. From this moment forward…” Percy shrugged his arms into the sleeves. “We shall have to be on our guard.” He adjusted his collar, accepted his gloves, and shoved his fingers inside them. “My men have been watching Habersham Place. Yes,” he said, acknowledging Garrick’s sudden confusion. “The very same manse Lord Guildford resides in. We’ve been watching him carefully. His activities have provided no connection to Holt, other than the fact that Guildford was Holt’s superior in Langbourne Ward.”

“Do you think Guildford is involved?”

“I doubt it, but any manner of men under his employ could be connected.”

Garrick eyed Percy coldly. “What did you find out from Holt?”

“Holt?” The duke’s shoulders sagged for a moment then he released a heavy sigh. He regarded Garrick closely. “I forgot that while we were interrogating the bastard, you were on your way to Spain.” Percy glanced at the balustrade of the stairs on the second floor as if someone stood there watching then readjusted his cuffs. “Where was I?”

“Holt’s interrogation.”

“Ah.” The duke cleared his throat. “That was a despicable situation that will require more time than we have to explain, but I shall do my best to fill you in quickly. To be blunt,
I
had Holt’s body delivered to Habersham Place with a note attached to warn off anyone connected with his treachery.”