The Guise of a Gentleman (30 page)

Jared knew someone had paid a garnish and easement of irons for him when the turnkey removed Jared’s heavy shackles and moved him into a private cell. The honorable navy officers had confiscated all his money when they captured him, so he’d had no hope of buying better conditions when he arrived at Newgate. His crew had likewise been relieved of their purses.

He wondered about his benefactor. Greymore wouldn’t have come this soon. Elise probably hadn’t even arrived home yet to tell him.

His new cell was clean in comparison to the hole he’d shared with thirty other ragged and hungry men. The garnish provided soap, a sponge, two basins of water, a clean towel, and candles. Clean clothes even awaited him on a cot that appeared free of fleas. Only one rat ran across the floor. Luxury. Better than some inns where he’d spent the night.

Jared drank fresh water from one of the basins. Then, despite the cold room, he stripped off what remained of his clothes and bathed, scrubbing until his skin felt raw. Everything on his body hurt. Each time he moved, pain shot outward. The freezing water made his teeth chatter, but the desire to be clean outweighed the discomfort. He carefully poured soapy water over his head and leaned over to let it run down his back where the naval boatswain’s cat o’nine tails had bitten into his flesh. Standing on the cold stone floor in the puddle of water he’d created, he bathed again, using the second basin of fresh water.

The turnkey had offered to send someone in to shave him, but he’d refused. His hair and beard had grown long and scruffy, just as he wanted. It all combined for a good image of a pirate.

Moreover, he and Cole looked enough alike to be twins; he didn’t dare taint the family name should someone chance to note the resemblance between a pirate and the new Earl of Tarrington. The law and the papers must never know his true name.

Behind him, the lock turned with a clank. Falling into a defensive crouch, Jared faced the door, wishing he had a weapon. The door swung open on reluctant hinges to reveal a dark, ominous form in the doorway.

Jared’s heart hammered in his throat. The figure approached. Jared tensed further, prepared to kill or die.

There was a pause. Then, “Well, there you are in all your glory,” drawled a familiar voice. The figure stepped into the light cast by the lone candle.

Jared let his breath out, almost dizzy with relief. “Grant. I’ve never been so happy to see you.” He dried quickly and pulled on clean breeches, gritting his teeth against pain.

“You’ve never been happy to see me.” His brother folded his arms and leaned against the wall. “I see you managed to offend someone. What a surprise.” No pity. No anger. Just sarcasm. That was Grant.

“You paid for the luxurious accommodations?” Jared made a sweeping gesture around the cell.

“Don’t think I did it out of the goodness of my heart,” Grant said. “I just didn’t want to have to breathe your stench.”

“Can’t blame you. After two weeks in the brig on the ship and, er, I’m not sure how long here, the smell was enough to make the fleas sick.”

“A chat with the Royal Navy, I hear?”

Jared didn’t bother to keep the disgust out of his voice. “They waited until after I’d surrendered to beat and flog me. They were real honorable and fearsome officers. The navy’s finest.”

At least they seemed to have treated Elise well. O’Brian and Dubois had assured him she’d appeared unharmed and in good health when she visited him in the brig, and she’d apparently had her freedom on board the ship.

Jared struggled to get his shirt on without opening the wounds on his back, or aggravating his broken ribs, but as pain flared, he sucked in his breath sharply.

“Baby,” Grant accused scornfully. “Here.”

In a rare sign of compassion, Grant was at his side, lifting the shirt up and over Jared’s head and lowering it over his back, Grant’s hands careful despite his gruff voice.

Grant looked Jared over, as if noting every mark on him. In a quiet voice, he asked, “You all right?”

Speechless at the unlikely display of concern, Jared nodded. Grant locked the compassion behind his customary sardonic exterior, leaned back, and folded his arms. Jared fastened the buttons on the front of his clean shirt and tucked it into his breeches.

Grant removed his coat and threw it at him. “It’s freezing in here. Wouldn’t want you to sneeze on the Admiralty during your inquiry.”

“How soon will that take place?”

“In an hour.”

“Ah. Bath was well-timed.” Jared put on the wool coat, trying not to wince as he moved his arms, and again, Grant helped him.

“I would have paid for your garnishment and easement sooner if I’d known you were here,” Grant grumbled. “I came as soon as I heard.”

Jared sobered, startled by Grant’s confession. “I know.”

It surprised him to realize that he truly did know. Despite Grant’s gruffness, he was a brother who cared for his family. He just hid it beneath an impossibly hardened exterior. Grant had always been a cynic who preferred his own company to that of others, and he’d returned from the war positively hard-hearted. But not a complete cad, apparently. Who would have thought such a cold exterior would actually protect a beating heart?

Jared sat on the cot and pulled on the woolen socks. Grant helped him with his boots. “Do you know the members of the Admiralty who will try me?”

Grant nodded. “Admiral Ruggle. Hard but fair.”

“Will he be willing to negotiate?”

Grant uttered a sharp laugh. “With a known pirate? Hardly.”

Jared sat hunched over, trying to plan a strategy.

“I can arrange for some female companionship for you later, if you like,” Grant said.

Jared raised his brows.

Something akin to a dry smile touched Grant’s mouth. “Or I could bring you some really bad and overpriced gin made from Newgate’s own private still. Anything can be had for the right price here.”

“Anything?”

“Except your freedom, of course.”

“Are you sure that can’t be bought?”

“For the legendary pirate Black Jack? Difficult. If you were unknown, I could bribe the right person and slip you out. They could say gaol fever claimed yet another victim. Typhus kills more prisoners than the executioner.”

Jared nodded. “That’s how I got out the first time.”

He had the supreme satisfaction of actually surprising Grant. Probably an unprecedented event.

“The first time?”

Jared heaved a sigh. “Can you help me?”

Grant sat beside him. “Tell me the whole sordid tale.”

Jared took a moment to order his thoughts. Grant nodded and waved him on.

“At first I loved it on board the privateer. I worked up to first officer quickly, something I wouldn’t have been able to do in the navy. During one of our calls at port to re- supply, I stumbled upon a beautiful woman in peril. Her name was Rebecca. My aiding her turned into an adventure but I got her to safety. Then I returned to the sea and assumed I’d never see her again.”

“How did you end up in gaol the first time?”

“My captain lost patience with the government. They were slow giving us our fair share of the booty we took. For some, we never received compensation.”

“And?”

Jared paused as shame washed over him. “We decided to augment our pay. Sometimes we failed to report our takings and sold them directly to smugglers instead. Occasionally, we only reported a portion of the spoils and kept the rest.”

Grant watched him impassively, without any judgment or condemnation. Nor understanding. Who knew what Grant ever thought?

“We began straying further and further from our approved area. Then we started attacking ships from other countries, not just the French as we were sanctioned to do. Once, against my better judgment, we preyed on a British merchant ship. We were caught.”

Grant’s eyes narrowed, but said nothing.

“We were arrested for piracy. Rebecca came with an offer. She was a covert operative for the British Secret Service and told me she could arrange to have my death falsified, provided I pledge myself to the Service.”

He blew out his breath slowly and glanced at Grant, wondering if he’d made the right choice. “I can’t tell you how many times I wished I’d just let them hang me. But I was seventeen and didn’t know there were things worse than death.”

Grant nodded, looking haunted. “There are.” Jared waited, but Grant did not elaborate. “Go on,” Grant said.

“I agreed to their terms. Basically, they owned me. They sent me on all the most dangerous missions, but I always returned.” He stood and moved to the window as memory reopened old wounds. “Bonaparte discovered Rebecca was a spy and executed her.”

He stared out the window, afraid if he turned around, Grant would see telltale signs of emotion. Tendrils
of London fog curled around the bars like a live octopus.

He drew a steadying breath. “After Boney was defeated, I remained in France to help with the mop-up effort, thinking my time with the Service would soon end. Then I received new orders.” He swallowed. “They wanted to utilize my experience on the sea. So I hung around seedy taverns and grumbled about the lack of work for a former privateer until I met up with some pirates. They signed me up.”

Jared glanced at his brother, but Grant never shifted, never made a sound, nothing but impassivity in his expression.

“The captain was a snake,” Jared continued. “More interested in blood and terror than in plunder. He loved to torture his victims. I convinced the crew I’d make a better captain and we voted him out. It’s all very democratic, you know. The captain didn’t take kindly to losing his position and I had to kill him. I left his first mate, and incidentally half-brother, Leandro, in Havana.”

Grant raised his brows. “You didn’t kill him, too? How compassionate of you.”

“I should have fed him to the sharks. He plagued me for years. My assignment was to expose a pirate ring and find the one feeding them information. I traced it to a nobleman outside of Port Johns. There I met a lady named Elise Berkley.”

He heard the softening of his own voice. It seemed an unavoidable reaction whenever he thought of the angel who came to him with soothing hands.

Grant’s face twisted in true disgust. “First Cole and now you. What a pathetic pair of lovesick fools you are. I thought you looked rather moony when you were home for Father’s funeral.”

Jared found it interesting Grant could listen to tales of betrayal, espionage, and piracy without comment and with no emotion other than mild sarcasm. Yet the mention of a lady brought a such strong reaction.

He moistened his lips. “Leandro found me, and learned about Elise. He nabbed her and used her as bait to draw me out.”

Grant barked a sharp laugh, his eyes dark with anger. “Of course. And you, being the gallant hero you are, waltzed right into his trap.”

“Of course I did. Haven’t you heard of Captain Leandro? He made Blackbeard look like a kitten. He actually committed many of the tales I’m credited for doing. Yes, I went after him.”

Jared relived his stark desperation when he learned Leandro had taken Elise. He took a moment to steady his breathing. “I killed him and took his ship. We were on our way back to England to take Elise home. This was my last assignment. If all went according to plan, I would receive my decommission and a full pardon for any of my crew I deemed fit to save.”

“But the navy found you first.”

“And the Secret Service made it clear all along they’d never help me if I got myself captured by either side.”

Grant rubbed his temples.

“It gets worse. My assignment was technically over once I exposed the leader of the ring. Leaving England on the ship and using my pirate guise to rescue Elise was an unauthorized act.”

Grant stood and went to the window next to Jared. For a long time, he stood looking out. Finally, he spoke. “If you have no documentation, and no proof, this is merely your story. It isn’t much to go on.”

“I know. The Service is very careful to never leave any papers that can be traced to them. Get word to Charles Greymore in Brenniswick. I asked Elise to contact him, but I have no idea if she’s being held for questioning or if she’s free. Greymore may be able to do something. I doubt it, though.”

“I’ll find out about your woman.”

“Lady, Grant. She’s a lady.”

Grant blew out his breath in disgust.

Jared didn’t remember Grant always having such a dark opinion of women. Something must have happened. Jared had been home so little in the last fifteen years that he hardly knew anyone in his family. He’d missed much.

“You could try telling Admiral Ruggle the truth, but he probably won’t believe you,” Grant said.

“Except for my name, and then I’ll die publicly as Jared Amesbury. The entire family will be dishonored.” He shook his head. “I must continue being Black Jack.”

Grant snorted. “That’s a stupid name.”

Jared smiled but winced as the motion pulled at his cut lip. “Cole agrees. It was all I could think of on the moment.”