Stormy Persuasion (22 page)

“To hurt me or my family?”

“No, for what you just admitted is a king’s ransom. That stowaway could have put the
jewels in a crate that could float and lowered it over the side and then signaled
that ship to look for it. The jewelry could very well be on that ship. That’s what
they were after all along.”

“Or you could be the one in league with them and could have done exactly that,” James
said as he walked away.

“This nonsense is going to cost me my ship, damnit!” Nathan growled after him. “No
bleedin’ baubles would be worth that to me!”

He waited for a reply but there was none, which had him furiously shaking the bars
again. Still not even a little rattle from them. He and Corky weren’t getting out
of that cell. His ship was going to end up sold. He was going to see the inside of
a prison despite his pardon. Even if the Malorys didn’t have an enemy out there on
the high seas, they had one now aboard their ship.

Chapter Thirty-Five

“Y
ou can’t fool me,” Jacqueline said as she joined Judith at the rail. “Didn’t touch
your food last night or this morning. Haven’t even remarked on the land you’re staring
at. You’re still heartbroken, aren’t you?”

Am I? Judith wondered. Is
that
what I’m feeling? She was still somewhat in shock and utterly disillusioned, and
she’d cried herself to sleep last night. Her eyes were quite red from it. But then
not even a full day had passed since Nathan had been apprehended as a jewel thief.

“I’m not saying I am, but will it ever go away?” Judith replied.

“Course it will.”

“How do you know? You’ve never felt heartbroken.”

“Because it stands to reason, don’t it? Half the world would be in tears if it doesn’t.”

“I highly doubt half the world—”

“A quarter then, but if you want specifics, didn’t your sister fancy herself in love
with young Lord Gilbert last winter? She certainly cried for several hours over him.
And not two days later she was happy as a lark singing the praises of Lord Thomas
instead.”

“Jaime was barely sixteen. She’s allowed to float in and out of love until she figures
out what it really is—which she hasn’t done yet. She’s too young—”

“So have you figured it out?”

“I just feel so betrayed. He led me to believe we were friends, then he robbed me,
us, all of us.”

“Friends and lovers?”

“Jack!”

But while Judith’s cheeks had turned pink with a blush, Jacqueline was rarely embarrassed
by any subject and wasn’t dropping this one. “You wouldn’t make love without telling
me about it, would you? I don’t think I could forgive you for keeping
that
a secret from me.”

“I—wouldn’t.”

It wasn’t a lie, it wasn’t! She’d tell Jack eventually. She just couldn’t bear to
yet when the mere thought of just how close she’d gotten to Nathan made this pain
even worse. It was clouding her mind and squeezing at her heart.

So she was completely broadsided when Jack said, “But you didn’t tell me he was our
ghost.”

Judith actually groaned. Jack wasn’t going to forgive her, ever, for the secrets she’d
kept from her.

“You guessed?”

“Not a’tall,” Jack replied in a tone that sounded hurt. “The hair so blond it looks
white didn’t give it away. Others have hair that color. But after you excused yourself
from dinner last night, I heard my mother whisper to my father that at least he’s
not Derek’s neighbor after all, and wasn’t that the worst crime, his impersonating
gentry? So I asked what she meant by that and she explained. Suddenly your immediate
fascination with Nathan Tremayne made sense.”

“He asked me to keep that secret and now I know why, because it was just another lie.
He doesn’t own that house. He was just hiding smuggled goods there. I told you about
my suspicions when we were visiting Derek and his family.”

“So he’s the smuggler you saw the night before we left Hampshire?”

“I didn’t actually
see
him that night. But when I saw him on the ship and recognized him as our ex-ghost,
something he said made me realize he was the man who had been at the ruined house
behaving so suspiciously. I accused him of being a smuggler. He denied it, of course,
and promised a full explanation if I’d hold off saying anything about it.”

“It’s not exactly a high crime,” Jack pointed out. “Some people even consider smugglers
folk heroes, you know. I mean, how would you feel if you couldn’t afford a cup of
tea anymore when you’ve been drinking it all your life?”

“I know. And that’s the only reason I held my tongue.”

Jack snorted. “I suppose how handsome he is had nothing to do with it. Or that you’ve
fancied yourself in love with his ghost all these years?”

“Only his handsomeness—maybe.”

“There’s no maybe about that. He was fascinating to you back then and still is. Of
course you could lay claim that he compromised you whether he did or not—if you want
him for a husband. That might be the only way to keep him out of prison—
if
you want him for a husband.”

“You’re repeating yourself.”

“Some things bear repeating. Prison can ruin a man. The time to save him would be
now.”

Already suffering from heartache and now overwhelmed by guilt, Judith suddenly burst
out, “We
did
make love.”

“I know.”

Judith gasped. “No, you didn’t!”

“I bloody well did,” Jack retorted. “Think I didn’t notice that silly grin you couldn’t
keep off your lips yesterday morning? Think I haven’t seen that countless times on
the women in our family? Even my mother, for Pete’s sake, gets that look after she
and my father—”

“I get the point.”

“I’ll wait until you get over your heartbreak to insist that you share every detail,
but not a minute longer. I can’t believe you kept
any
of this from me.
Me!
”

Judith winced. “I know. He tricked me into keeping silent. I was trying to get at
the truth, and agreeing to his terms seemed to be the only way I could. But I realize
now all I did was give him time to make up an elaborate tale I would believe.”

“One you
wanted
to believe, you mean.”

“Well, yes. And time to convince me he could be trusted. That’s the worst of it. I
can’t believe I trusted him!”

“Good God, don’t cry again! Forget I said a word. We’re not saving that blighter.
Prison’s too good for him!”

Jacqueline said no more, just put her arm around Judith’s waist and squeezed. The
wind quickly dried her tears. She continued to gaze at the coastline, which she figured
was in one of the states north of Connecticut. She didn’t care. She’d lost interest
in this trip, lost her appetite, too, as Jack had pointed out. All she could focus
on was the abysmal pain that was overwhelming her.

She had thought about confronting Nathan. This morning she’d even gone down to the
corridor that led to the improvised brig. She didn’t go any farther than that because
she had started crying again. It was too soon to talk to him without screaming or
crying, and what could he say to her to explain why he’d stolen from her? She wouldn’t
believe him anyway, could never believe him again, he’d lied to her about so much.

She couldn’t stop thinking of him, though. The image of Nathan and the kitten asleep
together in her cabin, so adorable, so—innocent—was stuck in her mind. Of course,
even murderers could love their pets. His affection for a kitten did
not
make him innocent of anything. But it had been so heartwarming, seeing him like that.
It had made her draw conclusions she wished she could now forget.

Her uncle James had said it wasn’t plausible that Nathan was gentry
and
a thief. He should also have pointed out that Nathan’s being a smuggler and a thief
wasn’t plausible either. Why would a thief smuggle when smuggling wasn’t nearly as
profitable as stealing? He couldn’t be both. But he certainly wasn’t adept at thievery
when he’d carelessly left evidence behind. Was this his first attempt at it? Or had
he been coerced into it, his nieces threatened . . .

She groaned to herself, aware that she was searching for reasons for him to be innocent
because the thought of his going to prison made her sick to her stomach. No matter
what he’d done, that single thought filled her with dread, as if she were the one
facing such a dire future. Is that why she felt so miserable? Maybe it wasn’t heartbreak
she was experiencing, just gut-wrenching compassion for a friend. A supposed friend.
No, he wasn’t a bloody friend, damnit.

“I wonder what town that is,” Jack said. “I’m going to read the charts and dig out
my uncle Thomas’s map to find out. Have you seen the one he gave my father? It’s a
map of the entire east coast of America and well enough drawn that my father didn’t
immediately toss it out simply because an Anderson drew it.” Jack laughed. “Cartography
might only be a hobby for Thomas, but he’s quite meticulous at it.”

Judith took a closer look at the town that had sparked Jacqueline’s curiosity. She
could see single-story houses, a church steeple, a few short docks with only fishing
boats tied to them.
The Maiden George
was close enough to shore that she could make out some people waving at them, or
more likely waving at the children swimming in the water.

Her eyes flared wide. A strong man could easily swim to shore from this distance.
She didn’t have to marry Nathan to save him from prison. She just had to let him out
of his cell.

She hurried after Jack to have a look at that map herself. James had said they’d reach
Bridgeport sometime between midnight and dawn. They would still get a good night’s
sleep since he didn’t plan to dock the ship until daylight. So she could do it anytime
after they were anchored in the harbor or even before that, if she could figure out
where they were along the coast.

At least that sick feeling of dread had gone away, now that she had a positive plan.
She did have a few second thoughts, though. The jewelry still hadn’t been found. Her
family would be furious at her for helping Nathan to escape. Jack was the only one
who would understand why she had to do it. But when she snuck down to the brig late
that night, she found it empty. Nathan was already gone.

Chapter Thirty-Six

L
ate at night the weather was more than brisk in Connecticut—if they were even in that
state. Clothes soaking wet, tired from the long swim to shore, Nathan and Corky were
shivering as they walked up the beach toward the lights of the one place in town that
appeared to still be open that late, a tavern.

Nathan still couldn’t believe they were free. The set of circumstances was astounding.
A noise had woken him in the middle of the night by mere chance. Even so, he almost
went back to sleep before he noticed the door to the brig was open. Then, forgetting
how narrow his makeshift bed was, he nearly fell to the floor getting up so fast to
make sure he wasn’t dreaming it. The door was open, but no one was in the hallway,
so he didn’t know whom he ought to thank for it. Most likely one of the crew who knew
he was getting a raw deal from the Malorys. Or the actual thief, who regretted framing
him?

In either case, he and Corky had bid
The Maiden George
farewell in quick order. They didn’t even consider gathering their belongings first.
They dove straight over the side and swam toward the lights onshore.

“Tell me you had coins in your pocket when we were tossed in the brig,” Corky said
hopefully. “A strong drink would be more’n welcome right now.”

“My pockets are as empty as yours.”

Corky groaned. “Wet, cold, no money, no belongings that we could trade, and a powerful
local family will soon be trying to recapture us. This ain’t looking too good, Cap’n.”

No, it wasn’t—yet. But if he could just get to
The Pearl
as soon as possible, their immediate problem would be solved because he knew something
about the ship that no one else was aware of, not even Corky. At least, he hoped no
one else knew it yet. But if they weren’t even in the right state . . .

Nathan dredged up an encouraging tone for his friend. “We’ll be fine as soon as we
get to New London.”

“Aye, the Yank’s friend will help us.”

Nathan shook his head. “We lost that opportunity when we got thrown in Malory’s brig.
We can’t take the chance now that John Hubbard will simply believe us if we arrive
without decent clothes and no letter of introduction from Boyd Anderson, which Anderson
didn’t bother to write since he planned to come with us. Hubbard would likely send
a message to the Andersons to confirm our story first.”

“As I said, this ain’t looking good,” Corky mumbled.

“Stop worrying. I have an alternative plan, but we need directions first, and I’m
not waiting till morning to get them. Come on.”

They entered the tavern. Aside from the skinny barkeep and one barmaid well past her
prime, there were maybe a dozen customers, half of them lined up at the bar. While
the sudden warmth in the room was welcome, Nathan wasn’t there to waste time.

“Evening, mates,” he said loud enough to draw every eye in the room to him and Corky.

All conversation and rowdiness stopped abruptly until one muscular young fellow at
the bar demanded, “Who the hell are you?”

“Come to wash the floor, did you?” someone else snickered.

That started the laughter. Well, Nathan had to concede they did look ridiculous with
their hair and clothes so soaking wet that puddles were forming at their feet, and
not even a jacket to ward off the cold night air.

“If you can point us in the direction of New London, we’ll be on our way,” Nathan
said.

But that caused even more laughter and a couple replies. “You’re in the middle of
it.”

This
was New London? But that couldn’t just be a lucky coincidence. Someone on the Malory
ship must have intentionally opened the brig door as the ship approached the town
he intended to visit.

But before Nathan had a chance to ask about the shady shipyard and its owner, whose
name Commander Burdis had given him, the big fellow came over to him and shoved Nathan’s
shoulder, hard enough that a slighter man would have fallen. Nathan stood his ground,
but the man’s aggressive stance didn’t alter.

Nathan was shoved again as the man said, “We don’t welcome strangers in our town,
least of all suspicious Brits who show up all wet in the middle of the night.”

Someone else with a grudge against England or just a local troublemaker? Nathan wished
he’d thought to tone down his accent, if he even could. But tonight was a perfect
opportunity to reach his first goal, so he wasn’t about to leave without directions
to the shipyard.

He quickly decided to try to nip this man’s aggression in the bud and hoped the crowd
wouldn’t rally to help their friend. “We’re not here to cause trouble,” Nathan said
as he planted a fist in the man’s belly, following up with a blow to his chin that
knocked him to the floor. “Really we aren’t.”

Unfortunately, the fellow quickly jumped to his feet. He was big, even had a few inches
on Nathan, and he exuded confidence, was even grinning now. But Nathan couldn’t afford
to lose when this tavern was a prime place to get some help, maybe even the men for
the crew he would need for the trip home. That wasn’t going to happen if he lost or
backed down from this fight.

Nathan hoped for a charge he could easily avoid or take advantage of, but his antagonist
wasn’t unskilled and tried a few punches just to test Nathan’s reflexes. Nathan did
the same. For a few minutes neither of them was getting anywhere.

Already tired from the long swim, Nathan knew he wouldn’t have the stamina to outlast
the man if they continued to cautiously test each other’s mettle. So the moment the
man broke through his guard with a solid punch to Nathan’s chest, Nathan came up with
a backhanded left fist to the side of the man’s head and leapt up to slam a quick
right-handed blow to the man’s jaw. With Nathan putting his full weight behind it,
the fellow dropped to the floor again.

“
Really
we aren’t here to cause trouble,” Nathan repeated, and, willing to roll the dice,
offered the man he’d decked a hand up this time.

The man stared at Nathan’s hand and a moment later laughed and took it. Nathan introduced
himself. His former antagonist told him his name was Charlie and ordered Nathan a
whiskey, which Nathan passed on to Corky. He then asked the group at large if anyone
there was familiar with Henry Bostwick and his shipyard. He got more responses than
he expected.

“I worked for him a few years back, but the work wasn’t constant and he shorted my
wages to boot, so I didn’t hire on again,” Charlie said.

Someone else said, “Shorted my wages, too, and no excuse for it neither, when he auctions
off ships three to four times a year. Course, buying them old and just bringing them
here and prettying ’em up, he’s only making half what he could.”

“Don’t make excuses for him, Paulie. My brother swears Bostwick is up to no good.
There’s been other ships he sells privately, and who knows the difference when that
yard is all closed up like it is.”

“Is this how Bostwick explains not actually building ships from scratch?” Nathan asked.

“He builds new ones, too, he just pulls the crew off ’em to work on the old ones when
they show up, so it can take years for a new one to get finished. But that’s how he’s
always done it, far as I know,” Paulie said with a shrug.

“Always wondered how he manages to find so many ships,” Charlie said. “The few I’ve
seen come in over the years weren’t actually old, so he would have had to pay a high
price for them. How’s he make a profit that way?”

“He makes a profit because he’s not buying them, he’s stealing them out of English
ports,” Nathan replied.

Someone laughed. “Is he now?”

Nathan stiffened, wondering if that was going to be everyone’s sentiment, and asked
the man, “You know something about that?”

“I know some of the ships brought in were indeed British. Had a peek at the logbooks
before they were burned. But who cares?”

“I understand why you might not find his business practices objectionable, but I do,
since I have reason to believe the ship he currently has in his yard belongs to me.”

The man just shrugged and turned back to his drink. Charlie asked Nathan, “Is that
why you’re here?”

“Yes. To retrieve my ship and get the local authorities to put Henry Bostwick and
his ring of thieves out of business.”

“Good luck with that,” someone snickered. “The word of a Brit against a local man
of business?”

“There are a few things I know about my ship that Bostwick wouldn’t know and hopefully
hasn’t discovered, but I need to find out if she’s here first. Can someone take me
there—now?”

“Why would we do that?” Paulie asked. “There’s guard dogs let loose at night inside
the outer fence, and any ship on the property is closed up in the big shed where they’re
worked on. There’s no way you’re getting in there to see anything.”

There was a round of agreement with that assessment. But with the likelihood that
The Pearl
was still in New London, Nathan wasn’t going to wait until morning to find out. His
ship had to still be here. She was over twenty years seasoned. It would take a while
to sand her down to give her the look and smell of a new vessel. That had been his
only hope, actually. The time it would take to polish her.

“I’ll pay handsomely to see my ship tonight,” Nathan offered.

“Let’s see some coins, Brit.”

Nathan ignored that. “And I’m going to need a crew for the return trip to England.
I’ll wager some of you who aren’t in your beds at this hour could use the work.”

Some laughed over that remark, confirming it. But the same doubting Thomas called
out, “Show us a ship before you go hiring a crew.”

Corky warned in an urgent whisper at Nathan’s side, “You’re promising what we don’t
have!”

“Trust me” was all Nathan whispered back.

It was actually Charlie who downed the rest of his drink and volunteered, “I’ll take
you.”

Nathan smiled and, grabbing Corky, followed the big man out of the tavern.

A while later, they approached Bostwick’s shipyard on the shore. The fenced-in yard
to the side of the big shed had plenty of space to build ships in, but it was empty
except for a few piles of lumber and the roaming dogs. Was the shed there so that
work wouldn’t have to stop during the harsh winter months—or to hide whatever was
going on inside it? But it wasn’t tall enough to accommodate masted ships unless the
ground in the work area had been dug out.

“Corky, stay on this side of the fence to distract the dogs if I can’t get the front
door opened quickly enough,” Nathan said.

“No reason for the door to be locked if there are guards inside, and I know there’s
at least one,” Charlie said. “I live near here. I’ve seen him come out to patrol the
place at night.”

Nathan nodded and amended for Corky, “Follow if the door’s open, distract if it’s
not. Charlie—”

“Let’s do this,” the big man said, and hopped the fence before Nathan could finish.

Nathan grinned and followed. Unfortunately, the door was locked. But it was old. He
could break it down easily, but that would immediately alert the guards, and the dogs.
And they didn’t know how many armed guards they would have to contend with.

“Kick it in?” Charlie asked.

“No, let’s try pushing first, quietly,” Nathan whispered. “It won’t take much for
the hinges to give way, but the dogs are going to get our scent soon, so we need to
do this fast.”

They both put their shoulders to the door and shoved, but it didn’t give way quickly
enough. A dog started growling—too close. Nathan didn’t have to think about it; he
raised his foot to kick the door in, but it suddenly opened before he could.

The guard that stood there looked so surprised to find them in front of him that he
was slow in raising his rifle. Nathan grabbed it from him and smashed the butt of
the rifle against the man’s head. Fortunately, he didn’t have to do it twice because
Charlie was already shoving Nathan out of the way so he could close the door on the
dog. It barked now on the other side of the door, but only for a moment. Corky must
have figured out some way to distract it.

Around the shed on this upper level was a walkway, ending at an office on the other
side. The windowed office looked down on the main area, which was indeed much lower.
A light in the office revealed two more guards sitting at a table. A ship was below
them in the center of the shed, but the large area was too dark for Nathan to tell
anything other than that the ship was the same size as
The Pearl
. If it was in a trench, he could probably sail it out at high tide once the two enormous
barnlike doors of the shed had been opened.

“Do we take out the other guards?” Charlie asked.

“That might lead to shots being fired, which I would as soon avoid. I just need to
board the ship to confirm it’s mine, and I think we can do that without their noticing.
Come on.”

Two sets of stairs led down to the work area, one by the office, one by the front
door. Nathan led the way down and hurried up the long ramp to the ship.