The Guise of a Gentleman (20 page)

“He was after me.”

“I’m glad to have ruined his plans.”

The doctor arrived shortly and Jared was ushered out. Unwilling to leave until he’d heard the doctor’s prognosis, Jared paced, alternately cursing Leandro, and his own lack of vigilance.

Would there be no end to the lives at risk for his sake?

Black anger boiled inside him. He’d been foolish to believe that exposing Von Barondy and his informants would buy his freedom. He still had to deal with Leandro, which meant he’d be returning to the sea.

If Greymore died, Jared would live up to his reputation as Black Jack when he sought vengeance on Leandro.

Elise would be horrified if she had any idea how truly bloodthirsty he felt at the moment.

Mrs. Greymore emerged. She and the doctor spoke in hushed tones, and then the doctor left.

She turned to Jared. Blood soaked the front of her gown, and a streak smudged her cheek. But her posture was dignified and her expression resolute. “I need to speak with you in private.”

Heart-sick, he followed her down the corridor. Inside the study, he slumped into a chair.

She poured Jared a drink and handed it to him. “You look as though you need this.”

Jared gulped it down and eyed her miserably. “How is he?”

“Sleeping. He’s lost some blood, but the ball wasn’t in deep and the doctor removed it. The doctor has high hopes for his complete recovery.” She sat with her hands folded in her lap and watched him with an assessing stare. “Don’t blame yourself. He does not wish it.”

“I was the intended target.”

She smiled gently. “He would have thrown himself in front of you if he’d known. It makes no difference that he protected you inadvertently.”

Jared loosened his cravat. “It makes a difference to me. And to you. I’m not married. That makes me expendable.”

“I’m sure your family would disagree. And Elise.” She bowed her head a moment. “Charles has told me very little about his service to the crown. I know he served as a spy during the war and that he helps the government at times on a limited basis. But when his superiors informed him you were involved in a difficult assignment, and might need him, he changed to active status to assist you.”

Jared leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs, and hung his head. “He shouldn’t have.”

“You needed him. That’s all that mattered. He knows the risks. I shall be sure to use all my feminine wiles to discourage him from any further involvement.” A faint smile flitted over her mouth. “I assume your task is not completed? Or is this shooting an unrelated incident?”

“They are related indirectly. The actual case has been solved, but I’ve made some enemies along the way.” He stood. “Take care of him. I need to see to this last detail.”

She fixed upon him a stare that left him with the urge to squirm. “Be careful.”

He forced his mouth into a semblance of a grin. “I won’t let his sacrifice be for nothing. It would insult his honor if he took a bullet meant for me, and then I did an ungracious thing like get myself killed.”

“See that you remember that.” She saw him out. At the door, she touched his arm. “And Elise?”

“I have to finish this first.”

“Have a care with her heart.”

“I have no intention of hurting her.”

Keeping a sharp eye out for hidden gunmen, Jared rode home. When he arrived, he called out commands to the servants. “Saddle a fresh horse. I’ll be leaving within minutes.”

He took the stairs two at a time. Hunting a pirate dressed as a gentleman would not serve, so he changed into his pirate’s garb.

His valet, Gibbs, came in with raised brow and said dryly, “Interesting attire. Are you trying to ruin my reputation and destroy any hope that I’ll obtain employment with another gentleman?”

Normally Jared appreciated humor in all its forms, but he could not bring himself to smile. “I’m going to be absent for an indeterminate period of time.” He pulled on his scarred and creased boot and wriggled his foot back and forth until the boot slid on.

“You might want to see this, sir. It just arrived. The messenger said it was urgent.” Gibbs held out a note. Jared pulled on his second boot and took the note.

Meet me at the Fox & Hound. Do not delay.

Dubois

Jared swore. That could not be good. Leandro was probably causing havoc with the ship again. Jared tucked every gun and knife he owned about his person, ignoring Gibbs’s look of trepidation.

“If I should fail to return by the time the lease is up, inform my brother, Cole Amesbury, the Sixth Earl of Tarrington.”

Gibbs started. “Are you in trouble, sir?”

“I often am.” He grabbed a cloak and strode out.

José led a fresh mount to Jared just outside the stables. “What’s wrong, sir?”

Jared squatted down to the boy’s eye level. “If I don’t return before my lease expires, ask to remain here as an employee of the owner.”

With tears shimmering in his eyes, the boy nodded.

“When I return, I’ll look for you here. I’d make the arrangements myself, but I have to go after Leandro before the trail grows cold.”

José threw his arms around Jared. “You will come back?”

“I have many reasons to do so.”

Jared pulled José close, kissed the top of his dark head, and thrust him back. He mounted and spurred his horse.

Acutely alert, he wound his way through the streets of Brenniswick to the Fox & Hound. As he entered, he pulled his hat low over his face and took a chair where he could keep the door in sight.

The smell of bread and ale greeted him. The inn had two windows in front and one on the side, all large enough to climb through if necessary. Tallow candles guttered on the tables. A door to the back led to the kitchens. No doubt, he’d find a back door there. A girl far too young for her role brought him a drink without making eye contact and scurried away.

Dubois came in looking grim. He strode to Jared immediately and took a seat.

Speaking quietly, he came right to the point, “Leandro has your lady.”

Jared rocked back. Black rage nearly strangled him. He curled his hands into fists and struggled against the bile rising in this throat.

“His demands are simple. ‘Come get her, if you dare.’ His ship left two hours ago, reportedly for
Isla de Tiburon
.”

“Of course.” No doubt Leandro thought it some kind of poetic justice to take Elise to the same place
where Jared had killed Macy.

Jared pressed shaking hands over his eyes. First Greymore and now Elise. Leandro, the blackguard, must have been tailing him for days to know where to strike.

Dubois broke into his thoughts. “All hands are readying the ship and preparing to disembark. If we hurry, we may catch him before he reaches the island. At least we know a heading. I’ve told the crew nothing about your lady. They only know we hunt Leandro. They’re spoiling for a fight.”

“Supplies?”

“Stores are full. We’ve been prepared for days to leave. By your command.”

Jared called for pen and paper and wrote a note to Cole, warning him that Leandro might have discovered his true name and may seek retaliation by threatening his family, and to take precautions. Cole, no stranger to peril of that kind, would know what to do.

After extracting a promise from the innkeeper to have the letter posted, and handing him a goodly amount of coin to see to the task, Jared nodded to Dubois. “Let’s go get him.”

Under cover of darkness, they rode by the main highway toward Port Johns. Fear coiled in the pit of Jared’s stomach as he considered Elise at the mercy of Leandro and his men. Leandro was ruthless and unpredictable; he might do anything to her. Sickened at the thought, he pushed his horse to a reckless speed. Dubois remained at his side.

An eternity later, they clattered into the silent town. For a port and former smuggler’s cove, the cobblestone streets were surprisingly clean. Shopkeepers had already closed up and retreated to the second level where they lived with their families. The salty, fishy smells of the ocean mingled with cheap perfume worn by passing members of the
demi-monde
who awarded him seductive smiles and swaying hips. Fog rolled in, softening all the sounds. From somewhere up ahead, a bell clanged.

They made their way to the pier. Shadows flitted along buildings as thieves lurked, awaiting easier targets than two armed horsemen. Fog swirled around ships that creaked and moaned like restless ghosts.

Holding a lantern, Anakoni met them at the dock with a longboat. His teeth flashed in the darkness. “Captain. Glad to be making way at last. My purse is empty.”

“How far out is the
Mistress
?”

“She’s anchored just beyond the rocky island at the mouth of the cove.”

Grimly, Jared said, “We’re going after Leandro.”

Elise swam through gray haze. Her stomach lurched at the lingering scent of unwashed bodies. Her strangely hard bed left sore places on her body. She battled to open her eyes, but could only force them into slits. Struggling to sit, she pressed her hand to her throbbing head. After a moment, the room stopped spinning, but continued to rock. She squinted against bright sunlight streaming in through tiny, round windows.

Where was she?

She remembered a vague struggle, but nothing else. She had no idea how she now found herself in this strange room.

Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. Using the bedpost to steady herself, she swung her feet off the side of the mattress and pushed to a stand. Though tempted to sink back down, her throat aching with thirst drove her onward.

A trunk with a pitcher sat against the wall. Praying the pitcher contained water, she lurched her way across the rocking floor to the pitcher and peered in. Water.

Though the cup next to the pitcher was smeared with grime, she filled it and gulped greedily. Fresh, cold water ran over her parched tongue and spilled down the side of her mouth.

After drinking, she washed her face and hands. The water refreshed her but failed to steady her legs. She leaned on the trunk until she stopped shaking. The floor continued to rock.

Rising up on tip toe, she peered through the windows cut out of rough, wooden walls. Only sea and sky met her gaze. The horizon moved up and down. She blinked.

She was on board a ship. She’d never stepped foot on a ship before in her life. She still had no idea how she came to be here. At least a ship explained the rocking floor. She didn’t know if she’d been unconscious for hours, or days. Judging from her state of weakness, she guessed days.

The conversation she’d overheard between Jared and the man called Anakoni returned to her mind.

Had Jared discovered her and taken her prisoner aboard his pirate ship. Would she ever see Colin again?

Male voices shouted from outside her room while heavy footsteps thundered past the door. More curious than frightened, Elise opened the door and peered through the gloom. She followed a narrow passageway, illuminated only by an opening at the top of a steep stairway. Legs and feet disappeared up the steps and pounded on wooden planks over her head. She hesitated.

She should be terrified. She should remain in the relative safety of the room. Instead, determined to find answers, she lifted her skirts and climbed the narrow stairs, holding tightly to a rope on one side. Blinking in the harsh sunlight, she stepped onto the deck of a boat with two masts.

“My glass!” someone shouted.

Elise shielded her eyes with her hand. Men in canvas pants made adjustments to the sails. A boy scampered to a raised deck and handed something to a man whose plumed hat shadowed his face.

The boy darted away as the man put a spyglass to his eye. That man looked familiar somehow.

She saw no sign of Jared.

“It’s the
Sea Mistress
,” the man in the hat said. “Weak fool, I knew he’d come.” A faint Spanish accent laced his voice. In another time and place, she would have found the accent charming. He laughed darkly and chills ran down Elise’s spine. Then he raised his voice and called, “Come about and set a course to intercept.”

A man with long braids at his side repeated the orders, and then shouted in a language she did not understand.

The man calling the commands turned to Elise. With a mocking smile, he swept off his hat and made a grand bow. “How convenient that you are awake,
Señora
. Welcome aboard the
Venture
. Do join me here on the quarterdeck.”

The
Venture
. The ship’s name meant nothing to Elise. She gazed up at the man who’d addressed her. Her knees nearly crumpled as she recognized the Spaniard; he was one of the men who’d been slowly hanging Jared and threatening the boy. She had no reason to believe he’d show her mercy.

He gestured impatiently. “Come, come.”

Sick and light-headed, she hesitated. Yet to remain where she stood seemed pointless. A sailor laughed, low and guttural. Mangy ruffians grinned dangerously. Some eyed her as if she were a juicy steak. Others looked at her with open hostility and fingered their weapons.

She fought the urge to give into her rising fear and simply run back down the stairway. Such an action would be futile. After all, aboard a ship, she had nowhere to hide. Though her heart pounded, she raised her chin and squared her shoulders in false courage. She strode with dignity through the gauntlet of villains to the raised deck, mounted the steep stairs, and approached the man who’d spoken.

He watched her with glittering eyes and a chilling smile.

Battling the bile rising in her mouth, she looked him full in the eye and hoped her voice sounded confident. “Might I assume you are the captain of this vessel?”

“You may indeed, Señora. Captain Diego de Leandro, at your service.” His tone mocked her.

“Then please be good enough to explain how I’ve come to be here.” She concealed her trepidation behind an imperious façade.

His grin left her with the desire to wash. “You are here as bait to draw out my enemy.”

“Your enemy?”

“Black Jack, Captain of the
Sea Mistress
.”

Black Jack. She’d heard stories of this merciless pirate. Articles detailing his cruelty frequented the newspapers. Puzzled, she shook her head. “What makes you think he would come for me?”

“You are his lover. I’ve seen him with you. Going to and from your house at all hours of the night.” Leandro’s grin revealed yellowed and broken teeth, and Elise had to resist taking a step backward.

“She’s adjusted her heading, Cap’n,” called a man perched up high.

Captain Leandro took another look through his spyglass.

Elise went to the railing, shaded her eyes with her hand, and peered out over the water. A white, shapeless speck bobbed just on the horizon.

Leandro collapsed his spyglass with a snap. “Spread the sand! My steel will taste his blood today.”

Another sailor shouted orders in more than one language. Men wet down the deck and poured sand, amid much ribald talk and laughter.

Elise turned to Captain Leandro and drew herself up further. “You must have mistaken me for another. I only know Black Jack by reputation. And as I never consort with pirates, I could not have met this—” she allowed her voice to reveal her disgust, “—Black Jack.”

“Hasn’t told you, eh, Señora? He used the name of a … how do you say … a blueblood. Amesbury, I think, no?”

The blood drained from her face.

“Ah, I see you know that name, Señora.”

Weakly, she said, “Jared Amesbury is Black Jack?”

“Aye.” He watched her with impassive curiosity.

Aghast, she stared. “You’re lying.”

Shrugging, he leaned against the railing. “You see for yourself soon.”

What possible motive Leandro would have for telling her such a thing, she couldn’t imagine. He seemed to have no reason to lie.

And yet his words were too horrible to believe.

As she grappled with the awful reality, horror sapped the strength in her knees. She gripped the railing to remain upright and pressed a shaking hand over her mouth. She knew all too well of Black Jack, of his acts of brutality to those who defied him.

According to the papers, when a merchant had refused to obey Black Jack’s demands, he had plundered the cargo, disemboweled the captain, and then set fire to the ship with the crew tied up on board, leaving them to burn alive. Other stories of equally monstrous acts jostled against her memory until her stomach squeezed. Just the idea that Jared was a pirate left her shaken. That her Jared could be Black Jack, a man capable of inhuman cruelty to that magnitude seemed incomprehensible. And yet, the man in the alley, Anakoni, had called Jared ‘Jack.’

Sick with dismay, she stumbled backwards and fell against a barrel. Jared was the pirate Black Jack, the most ruthless renegade to plague the seas since the war.

“It’s a bit…eh, how do you say…ironic, that you would save him once, only to lure him to his death later, Señora, no? Perhaps now you be happy to watch him die. He used you. He lied to you, eh, Señora?” He made a tsking sound. “No way to treat a lady. Still, for you he comes.” He jabbed a thumb toward the direction of the approaching ship. “The
Sea Mistress
.”

Numbly, Elise wondered why Jared would come for her. It couldn’t be possible that he had any true feelings for her. It must all be part of some grand plan she had yet to understand. She might be perfectly irrelevant to his purpose. Apparently, both pirate captains had some score to settle and would leap at the chance to destroy one another.

Some tiny part of her quailed at the thought that Jared might be killed. Despite the pain of betrayal that left her shaking, she couldn’t abide watching him die.

She shouldn’t care. Pathetic fool, she did care. Even now. He had shown her that she’d been living in a state of numbness since Edward’s death. He’d made her feel alive again. And oh, how badly being alive hurt now.

Jared was a pirate. Not just any pirate. Black Jack.

Waves of dizziness washed over her. She gripped the top of the barrel to keep from falling off while despair and revulsion burned a dark hole through her soul.

She’d kissed him. She’d fallen in love with him. She’d agreed to marry him.

Battling tears, Elise turned away to hide her anguish and focused on forcing air into her constricted lungs.

A nearby seaman with long, black braids shouted commands. The memory of that same seaman holding a knife to the throat of the boy José leaped into her mind. She recoiled.

All around her, sailors strapped on an assortment of guns, knives, and swords, and hurried to carry out orders. Instead of grimly preparing for battle, they gleefully made ready the
Venture
and themselves to engage in an act of war. Leandro turned his attention to his ship and crew, leaving Elise to despair.

Had Jared’s touch been genuine, or all part of the ruse? Not that it mattered. He was a pretender. A murderer. The thought that Jared could be of the same ilk as Leandro and his filthy, crude men made her skin crawl.

The other ship steadily neared. Sitting on the barrel, she tried to school her expression into a proper English lady’s passiveness, knowing she must be failing miserably.

“Cast loose the guns!” the first mate called. “Take out your tampions and run out your guns.” He shouted in a foreign tongue.

The pirates readied the cannons lining the deck of the
Venture
.

Leandro returned to her and made a slow perusal of her body. “You will provide welcome entertainment when I celebrate the death of my enemy.”

Despite the disgust at the thought of that beast touching her, she pressed her lips together and lifted her chin. Some inner reserve gave her courage. Despair gave way to righteous anger. “I will do no such thing.”

“What makes you think you have a choice?” He turned to his nearest men. “We can’t let Black Jack think we treat his woman courteously. Tie her to the foremast.”

Two pairs of hands seized her roughly. Her first thought was to fight, but their hatred-filled eyes promised abuse if she resisted. And really, even should she break free, where would she run? Trapped here on the ship, she had nowhere to go but overboard. Nothing would drive her to the unpardonable sin of taking her own life.

And somehow, she must live to return to Colin.

Despite her lack of resistance, the pirates dragged her with unnecessary force to the nearest mast and tied her. As the ropes cut into her skin, she bit her lip to keep from crying out. She refused to give them the satisfaction of knowing they hurt her. One of her captors appeared younger than the others, barely out of boyhood, but just as hardened.

When he spoke to the others, Elise stared. “You’re an Englishman.”

The young pirate’s lip curled. “England never did nothin’ fer me ’cept treat me like a slave. ’igh society ladies like ye never cared fer the likes o’ me or mine.”

He gave the ropes a vicious jerk. Violence, not lust, radiated from him. She shrank from his hatred. To her relief, the men turned away and ignored her as they saw to their tasks.

The sun beat down upon her while the chill wind whipped her hair. Constricted by the ropes, her limbs throbbed and then numbed. Slowly, the other vessel neared.

Captain Leandro called, “Now, Santos!”

“Prime your guns,” the man with the braids shouted. “Fire!”

An unwarranted surge of concern flittered over Elise’s heart at the thought that Jared might suffer injury. She stamped it down. He did not deserve her concern.

He was a liar. A pirate. A murderer.

A deafening roar erupted from the nearest cannon. The concussion pressed Elise against the mast. Her ears rang. The
Venture
rocked slightly while a puff of smoke rose up from the muzzle and the smell of gunpowder stung her eyes and nose. Her heart beat an unsteady staccato.