by Nicole Byrd
The guard looked a bit harassed. “Not so long, yer lordship.”
The earl gave up his questions. “I shall have to write to Tweed,” he told Lauryn. “I believe he has gone back to London. I think we’ve done all we can do here. Let’s get out and get some fresh air.”
She nodded. The atmosphere was noisome with the heavy stink of the rotten wood and the mildewed sawdust and other strong scents; it was almost hard to breathe.
It was good to step out into the open air. She saw the earl dust off his trousers, which showed traces of black spots from the mildewed and rotten crates.
“I think we could use a nuncheon,” the earl said, “after dealing with the dregs of Neptune’s bounty. But first, there is one errand I would like to do.”
“Whatever you like, my lord,” she said.
He had noted a store with a window filled with lockets and jeweled necklaces, bracelets of gold, and silver chains. She gave it hardly a passing glance. He thought of the ribbon about her neck he had shredded when he had pulled off her clothes, and hesitated. He was no doubt asking for trouble, but still, fair was fair.
“Wait,” he told her, as she looked about her, ready to cross the street at the safest and least littered path.
“Yes?” She turned back to him. “Is this the errand you wish to attend to?”
He nodded. “Since I accidentally ruined your ribbon last night, it seems only fair that I should replace it. We might take a look in here for a trinket to go about your neck.” He motioned to her to go through the door first.
She raised her brows, and then, in a small gesture of independence that he found oddly alluring, her chin. “My lord, a ribbon is easily found at the notions counter of a ladies’ shop. I think you are in the wrong emporium.”
“We can always look,” he repeated. Her lack of enthusiasm somehow strengthened his insistence. If she had jumped at the chance, he would have been sure that he had been wrong to suggest it—perhaps she was more canny than he knew—but no, he thought her reluctance was genuine. At any rate, he held the door for her until she relented and allowed him to usher her inside.
A clerk, no, more than a clerk—one of the partners himself, if Marcus didn’t miss his bet—hurried forward, having taken a quick measure of the patrons who entered.
“Good day to you, sir, madam. How may I assist you?” he asked, giving them a deep bow.
“The lady would like to see something that would grace her lovely neck,” Marcus suggested.
Mrs. Smith flashed him a look of indignation. He had given the jeweler much too big a rein, and the man was going to run with it.
Perhaps he simply wanted to see what she would do. He couldn’t help remembering that remark when they had first met about having permission to smother her with jewels…
The man was already pulling out one of the gaudiest and, no doubt, most valuable pieces in the shop, a diamond and ruby necklace that was likely worth a prince’s ransom.
“Now, this, madam, is something truly spectacular—”
“No, no.” Mrs. Smith looked horrified. “You misunderstand. I wish only something small and simple.”
The jeweler’s smile faded. “Oh, very well, then. How—um—simple do you wish to go, madam?”
“Very simple,” she said firmly, leading the way to the far end of the counter. “Now this is quite charming.” This was a single gold chain with a gold locket at the end of it.
The jeweler followed her with much less spring to his step. “No doubt, no doubt, but let me show you another locket with diamonds set around it, which would augment your charms even more,” he tried to tell her.
Marcus watched for the next few minutes, being no help at all as his companion fought back all the shopkeeper’s efforts to talk up his more expensive wares. But she kept her gaze resolutely on the gold locket, and presently, they walked out of the shop with a paper-wrapped package and a slightly crestfallen shopkeeper left behind them.
“You are most generous, my lord,” she told him, smiling as if he had given her the crown jewels.
“I think I am a paltry fellow, actually, and you are a determined shopper,” he said. “I salute you.”
“Most of the other pieces were truly gaudy,” she said. “And I do like this locket, so I am well pleased.”
She smiled at him, looking satisfied with her small prize. He smiled back, and again wondered when she would tell more about who she really was.
He led them on to the small inn on a side street, which he had selected earlier.
“I think we can find a quiet meal here,” he told her. They gave the horses to an ostler, and the earl asked the servant who met them for a private parlor and a meal to be sent up.
“If you don’t mind going on up, Mrs. Smith,” he said. “I just want to check on my mount; he seems to be favoring his left front foot. I want to be sure he’s not picked up a stone.”
“Of course,” she said cheerfully.
The landlord himself came to greet her in the front hall, bowing and rubbing his hands on his apron.
“So happy to have ye. Mrs. Smith, is it?” he said, all smiles. “I’ve me kitchen working on your meal, and yer good man is in the stables, is he? He’ll find all in good shape, there, too, though I don’t fault him for seeing to his horses his own self. A good mount is worth a pretty penny, in’t it?”
Trying not to smile at the idea of the Earl of Sutton being called her “good man,” Lauryn managed not to giggle as she was escorted up the stairs. Chatting all the while, he showed her up to a small parlor, assured her that all would be seen to it just as she would wish it, and then left her to find the facilities and return to warm her hands at the fire in the hearth, all before the earl returned.
“How is your horse?” she asked when he came into the room.
“A small stone under the shoe, but I had it out before there was any real damage, I think,” he told her. “Ah, this looks promising.”
Servants brought in the first of the dishes, and the smells would certainly tempt anyone with a stomach as empty as hers, Lauryn thought. Soon they could sit and eat, and for a few minutes, they gave their attention to their meal.
Presently, their landlord returned to be sure that all was satisfactory.
“I ’ope your beef is to your liking, Mr. Smith,” he said now, his smile broad. “We do our best to please, we do, for you and your good wife.”
The earl paused for a moment, and Lauryn blinked, waiting for him to freeze out their host with a haughty look and to apprise him of the earl’s correct rank and name. But after one slightly startled moment, the earl said nothing, only nodding in acknowledgment.
“You’ve taken good care of us,” the earl agreed. “The dinner is excellent.” Nor did he say anything to correct the man’s mistaken assumption about their marital relationship.
Feeling her cheeks burn, she looked down at her napkin. In this small town, it was somehow comforting that they should assume that she was a proper married lady, not a woman of the evening, though she hoped that the earl did not guess the direction of her thoughts. He was often entirely too perceptive, however, and she did not dare glance in his direction.
“Have you been down to the docks?” the landlord was asking.
The earl nodded. “For a short time.”
The man lowered his voice as one with a choice tale to relate. “Ye might want to make a longer stay. We ’ave a real excitin’ tale of the sea in our town jest now, a ship what was lost in ’igh seas and then washed up on a far beach and its fabulous treasures reclaimed.”
Looking surprised and not exactly pleased that the Brave Lassie’s fate was so well known, the earl raised his brows.
Knowing that their host was expecting a different reaction, Lauryn said quickly, to distract him from the earl’s reaction, “Oh, my, that is an exciting story!”
Looking gratified, the landlord turned to her. “Aye, in’t it? The whole town’s abuzz, I can jest tell you.”
“What is this
treasure?” the earl put in, his tone now suitably interested. “Gold and silver doubloons from a pirate’s hoard?”
“Ah, not quite that,” the landlord told them, wrinkling his broad brow. “But jade artwork like what the lords and ladies put into their great ’ouses, and fancy china, and all that. Lucky, too, as that stuff don’t rot away in the seawater, see?”
While the earl pursed his lips, Lauryn said, to keep the landlord talking, “Who owns the treasure now?”
“Ah, it belongs to a couple of lords and was only found again by a great stroke of luck.” He leaned over to stir a sauce for them, and lift a cover on a plate of apple crumble. “If ye are willing to ’and over a small bribe to the guard at the ware’ouse, ye can get a look at all the treasure what’s been found at the bottom of the ocean.”
“Really?” the earl said, keeping his voice even with great self-control, Lauryn suspected, to find that his reclaimed cargo was being shown to all the curiosity seekers in the neighborhood willing to bribe the guard.
“Aye,” their host told them.
Frowning, the earl was silent.
Their landlord seemed to expect a response, so Lauryn exclaimed, “My goodness, that is indeed a wondrous tale.”
He beamed. “Jest what I said.”
The earl looked grim. “Amazing indeed.”
“And, I can tell ye what they’re saying about the death of the ship’s captain,” the other man added, his expression smug.
“And what is that?” the earl asked, his voice sharpening.
The landlord’s eyes narrowed, as if wondering if he had gone too far.
“I mean, is there some mystery involved?” Sutton smoothed his voice to simple curiosity. “I’m eager to hear it.”
Lauryn put in, with a girlish simper, “Oh, this is too amazing! Do we have a local ghost story, as well? I do adore ghost stories!”
Their host guffawed. “I can’t guarantee ye a ’aunting, Missus, but they be saying ’e may ’ave come by a violent end. ’Is skeleton t’was found in the bowels of the ship wid ’is skull bashed in. Now that’s a fine tale, don’t ye think?”
“Indeed, it is,” the earl muttered, while Lauryn rewarded the landlord with suitable squeals of horror.
When their talkative host at last seemed to have run out of rumors to share, he took his leave. After the door was shut safely behind him, Lauryn turned to the earl. She found that he was frowning once more.
“Amazing what plain Mr. Smith can learn, and the Earl of Sutton cannot,” he said. “The Harbor Master told us nothing of this. My compliments, Mrs. Smith; you should be on the stage.”
She smiled, then sobered quickly. “Not at all. I’m happy to help. But, my lord, do you think there is really something more than a ship going down in a storm, something sinister here?”
“We shall have to try to find out. And as for the so-easily corrupted guard”—the earl frowned—“I believe I shall have another conversation with him very shortly!”
Eight
They set out again for the warehouse in the early afternoon. This time two carriages waited outside, and it seemed that they had caught someone in the act of touring the warehouse.
The guard looked ashen with horror that Lord Sutton should return so soon. “Me–me lord, I weren’t–weren’t expecting to see you again,” he stuttered.
“Obviously not,” the earl said, his voice dry. “Who is inside?”
The guard blinked, as if trying to pretend he had not noticed the carriages with their bored-looking coachmen and teams. The horses pawed the gravel and shook their heads at flies that buzzed too close.
“Ah, well, a-as to that,” he stuttered under Sutton’s relentless stare.
It turned out to be a party of wealthy merchants and their wives. The earl sent the hapless guard inside to instruct the oglers that they would have to leave.
As he and Lauryn followed the man inside, Lauryn heard one of the women, a loud-voiced matron dressed in puce, arguing with her husband. She seemed to wish to bribe the guard to allow them to take away one of the jade statues.
“It’s just a bit of colored stone,” her husband said. “I don’t wish to beggar myself just to indulge your whim, Wendella.”
“But you can get it from him for half the price of the shops, I’ll wager,” his spouse shot back. “And you know that oriental is still all the crack. Look at the prince regent’s pavilion…”
She lowered her voice to eye the newcomers with suspicion. And then the guard had reached them, his own voice low and quivering with nerves.
Lauryn glanced at the earl, who appeared grim.
“They are making your priceless artifacts into a village fair, available to the highest bidder,” she said quietly, feeling a rush of indignation on his behalf.
The look he gave the trespassers should have curdled their enthusiasm for their illegal purchase, but the visitors looked more offended than embarrassed. Glaring at Lord Sutton, they swept out of the warehouse and made their way back to their carriages. Standing near the wide doorway to make sure that they left without any part of his belongings, Lauryn and the earl watched them go.
Lauryn listened to the couple still bickering as they entered their carriage, and the jingle of the team’s harness, and the stamp of the horses’ hooves as they at last moved away, the second carriage following close behind.
“What shall you do?” she asked quietly.
“I will have to make arrangements immediately for my own guards to take over security here,” the earl told her. “It’s apparent that the Harbor Master’s men cannot be trusted.”
“Indeed,” she agreed. “Shall I stay here while you go to find men to take over for him, at least for the time? I know the objects inside are of immense value.”
She could not interpret the look he gave her.
“Mrs. Smith, I would not leave you here alone and risk your safety for all the priceless cargos from all the seven seas in all the world,” he told her. “Come along. We shall replace the guards with more dependable ones as expeditiously as we can.”
He turned to say a few brisk words to the guard, who hung his head and appeared unable to put up any protest, but Lauryn didn’t hear what was said. She felt as if the blood had rushed to her head, and her ears seemed to ring for an instant, his words to her had had such a strange effect.
Did he truly value her so? No, he was only a decent man, she thought, putting more value on an innocent life than on objects. He was a good person at heart, she knew that. It was not that he cared for her…was it?
He had only known her a few days. When he held her close, sometimes she wondered…No, he was merely a practiced lover, she knew that, had always known that. She could read too much into such gestures, and she must not…she could not leave her heart behind when he sent her away, as he invariably would.
Hadn’t she sworn she would not allow this stint as a courtesan to ruin her life? She must not go away maimed forever. She had promised herself she would do what she could to protect her reputation and her heart.
She had to try to keep her own promise. She must.
So she allowed him to give her a foot up into her saddle, and then they rode away, and she did not allow her thoughts to linger on his words. But if she could not erase them from her heart, well, one could not always be logical.
They rode back to the small inn where they had taken their meal, and the earl asked to speak to the overly talkative innkeeper.
“I’ve a mind to find a man I’ve had recommended to me,” he told their host. “A man who was a soldier in the French wars. I believe he’s sold out by now, but he was a man of great honor during the wars, highly dependable—his word was his bond—and still in good health.”
The innkeeper scratched his balding head. “You don’t ken ’is name? That might be Colonel Swift; ’e sold out when ’e got the bullet in ’is left arm. ’E lost it below the elbow, but otherwise, ’e’s still in fine form, I’m told, and has fathered three splendid sons sinc
e ’e came ’ome. Or mayhap Captain Bullsmore, though ’e’s a bit long in the tooth and ’as gotten a bit fond of ’is drink of late.”
“I think Colonel Swift may be the man I seek,” the earl said, straight-faced. He got directions, and they set out.
“How do you know Colonel Swift?” Lauryn asked him when they were on the road again and had pulled up at a narrow bridge, waiting for a carriage to pass.
“I don’t, but I needed someone to recommend men I can trust, as the local guards sent out from the harbor are obviously not reliable,” he told her.
She gazed at him in admiration of his gall. “What if this man had not existed?”
“I took a chance that he did.” He grinned at her.
When they reached the address of the retired officer, they were fortunate enough to find him in, and they were admitted without problem. This time the earl gave his true name and explained candidly why he needed to hire a team of trustworthy men.
The officer had an intelligent face and grasped the position almost at once. His left arm showed an empty sleeve, neatly tucked up, but he paid little attention to his old war wound.
“I had heard rumors about a sunken ship and the recovered cargo, but I paid little attention. So it’s true, then. I appreciate your position, Lord Sutton. I’m sorry to hear your sad experience with the Harbor Master’s men, but not really surprised.”
Nodding, he went to his desk and picked up a quill. “I know just who you need,” he told them. “There are plenty of ex-soldiers who are in need of honest labor, even today. I shall see to it at once, my lord. I’ll be glad to see my men—for these were my men, once—given a chance for some work.”
“I appreciate your assistance,” the earl told him, giving him the location of the hunting lodge and making arrangement about fees and payment for the men. “We shall be in the area for several days until I know more about the situation.”
They discussed the question of security for several more minutes, then, when the earl was satisfied, took their leave.
She wondered if they would make their way back to the earl’s shooting box, but it seemed that he was not yet finished with his investigation.
