Sea Wraith

by Jocelyn Kelley

  Before he could reply, a footman rushed into the room, calling, “Lord Bannatyne!” It was Tibbet, and he rushed to Gideon. “The shooting has stopped.”

  “The wreckers’ lights?”

  “Gone.”

  Gideon made a quick decision. “Stay here, Tibbet, and watch over the women. Let’s go, Alexander. We will get some men from the stables and reconnoiter the shore.” He strode toward the door.

  “Wait for me,” Sian called, following her brothers-in-law.

  “Stay here.”

  “I am going, Gideon, either with you or after you.” Again she wished she could explain that she must discover if Wraith was alive. “Your choice.”

  He scowled at her. “Do not be foolish, Sian. That is no place for a lady.”

  “Don’t you think I know that? But the shooting has stopped. It will be as safe now as it ever is. Please take me with you.”

  “Come along then,” Alexander said tersely.

  “Are you mad?” Gideon shot back.

  “She is a Nethercott.” Alexander looked from her to her sisters. “Haven’t you learned how impossible it is to keep one of them from doing what she thinks she must? And she is right. The battle seems to be over.”

  Gideon sighed and nodded as he looked at Sian. “Very well, but promise that you will stay with one of us until you are back here and safe.”

  “I promise,” she said, hoping she could keep that pledge.

  “And we will speak more of this Wraith when we return.”

  “Yes.” She wondered what else she could tell him without betraying Wraith.

  Gideon and Alexander turned their attention to gathering the men and several dark lanterns. They started along the road to the cliffs and the beach below them. She was kept to the center of the group, so an armed man walked between her and a possible ambush.

  The night was preternaturally quiet. The only sound came from the hedgerow when some small animal fled from them. With no light coming from Bannatyne Hall, the stars seemed brighter. No moon hung in the sky, and every hole in the road tripped one of them.

  They slowed as they reached the cliffs. No wreckers stood on them. Where had they gone?

  Sian heard a man swear. Before she could turn toward him, Gideon repeated the same curse before calling for lanterns to be opened. A flare of light, and the darkness flowed away from where they stood.

  She put her hands over her mouth as she stared at the prone forms on the ground. None of them moved. She counted close to a dozen dead men. Wraith had been wrong. It had not been a war. It had been a massacre.

  Wraith!

  Was he among them?

  As Gideon sent one of the stablemen to bring the vicar and the constable, Sian bent to look at each man’s face. She recognized several of them from the village. None of them wore Wraith’s mask, and she did not see Arthyn among the dead.

  She sat on a nearby boulder as Gideon nimbly climbed down to the beach. He was back in less time than it would have taken her to go partway down.

  “There are four more bodies down there,” he reported. “We need to move them before the tide comes in and takes them.” He motioned for some of the men to follow him before coming over to where she sat. “For whom are you looking, Sian?”

  “Wraith,” she said without hesitation.

  “I guessed as much, because it is clear that you have not told us everything about him. Do you know what he looks like?”

  “I do not know.” The words were difficult to say, but she could not unmask Arthyn when so many could hear. “I never saw his face in the light.”

  He seemed ready to ask another question, and she guessed he had dozens. Instead he held out his hand. “I have not seen any of the dead with a domino, but I know you want to see that for yourself. I will help you down, if you wish. I know you will not want to wait until the bodies are brought up here.”

  “Thank you, Gideon.” She came to her feet and took his hand. “You know me well.”

  “As Alexander reminded me, you Nethercott sisters will heed good sense only when you have no other option.” His smile was brief before his voice grew grim again. “But one thing has not changed. Stay close to me or Alexander until we are back at Bannatyne Hall.”

  “I will.”

  The cliff path seemed even more treacherous in the wobbling light shining from the lantern Gideon held, but she walked with slow, cautious steps. Her feet did not threaten to slide out from under her even once, and they reached the shore more quickly than she had expected.

  As Gideon began giving orders to move the corpses, she tried to see each dead man’s face. It was the same as on the cliff. No masks, even though one man wore a black cloak. Her heart had stopped when she spotted it, but it was not closed with the same brooch Wraith wore.

  She held the torch high while the men began hefting the corpses to carry them up the cliff. When Gideon called a halt to the work, deciding they must rig some sort of pulley to get the bodies from the beach, she went with him back up the path.

  Two men were bent over the bodies. The shorter man she did not recognize, but Gideon called him “Constable” and gestured for him to come and help identify the dead. The other was Arthyn. He was alive!

  Sian whispered a prayer of gratitude. Hoping Gideon had not taken note of him yet, she held tightly to her lantern and rushed to where Arthyn was looking down at one of the dead men.

  “Are you hurt?” she asked in a sharp whisper as she walked around the body so she could see both Arthyn and her brothers-in-law, staying within their sight as she had promised.

  “H-hurt? N-n-no.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Mr. Hallett is too fr-frail to c-c-come here, so I was sent.” He shook so much she could barely understand his words. “I d-d-did not want to come out here t-t-tonight. This is not what I p-planned f-f-for when I came to St. Gundred. I told him I would help, but not with mur—mur—murder.”

  “You need to leave.”

  He pulled his gaze from the corpse and stared at her. “Why?”

  “Gideon says he did not offer you the living of St. Gundred parish.”

  “It was all supposed to be taken care of. He promised.”

  “He? Mr. Hallett?”

  Panic raced across his face, then he nodded. Panic? Wraith panicking? Or was this one of his ploys to hide the truth?

  “Of course, Mr. Hallett,” he replied. “Who else?” Not giving her a chance to answer, he groaned, “I hope this does not mean Lord Bannatyne will put an end to our betrothal.”

  “Gideon is fair. He will give both you and Mr. Hallett a chance to explain.” She took his hands. “But now is not the time. Go back to St. Gundred. I will talk with him, and then I will send for you.”

  “That will give me time to speak with Mr. Hallett about not informing Lord Bannatyne.” He squeezed her fingers and stepped away. “Do remind him that we will need a nice cottage, for he would not want his wife’s sister to live in poverty.”

  She scowled. Why was he focusing on his dream cottage instead of the fact that they must persuade Gideon not to dismiss him? There were more than a dozen dead men at the top of the cliff; yet he seemed to be thinking only of himself. Trying to distance himself from the caring man he was as Wraith had become annoying. She must speak with him about that.

  As she turned to walk back to where Gideon and Alexander were both in conversation with the constable, she heard the constable shout. He was gesturing at something beyond her and Arthyn.

  A man stood farther along the cliff. He raised a long object and pointed it in their direction.

  At the crack of gunfire, she was knocked to the ground. The ball screamed over her head, and she heard Arthyn cry out in shock and pain.

  “Arthyn!” She tried to squirm out from whoever had pinned her to the ground, saving her. There would be time to express her gratitude later. Now she had to see if Arthyn was still alive. If he died. . .She could not bear to think of that.

  As more gun
s shot through the night, the man who had saved her life ordered, “Stay still, sweetheart!”

  She gasped, “Wraith!”

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Wraith?” Sian repeated in disbelief as she looked from his masked face to the curate who cringed against a boulder.

  “Aye.” In the light from the lantern that had been knocked from her hand, she caught a hint of twinkle in his eyes. “Stay down, sweetheart.” More guns fired. “Those are my men shooting now. Why didn’t all of you stay in Bannatyne Hall?”

  “The shooting ended, and we wanted to help the wounded. We thought the fighting was over.”

  “It is not. Time for us to go.”

  “Go? Gideon and Alexander—” She gulped as her eyes shifted from him to the curate and back. “And Arthyn are here! The men from Bannatyne Hall! We cannot abandon them.”

  He pressed her closer to the ground as another volley of shots flew past, this time in the opposite direction. “They seem well prepared, but ye are not. Come with me. I know where ye can be safe until the shooting is over.”

  When he pulled his black cloak over her and brought her slowly up to her knees, she realized he had pushed her behind a rock to escape that first shot. She listened as he outlined the crooked path they would take toward the lip of the cliff.

  “If we go down the cliff path,” she protested, “we will be easy targets.”

  “We would. . .if we were going that way. There is another way.” He took her hand. “Trust me, sweetheart.”

  “You know I trust you.”

  “Aye. Now do as I tell ye, even if ye think me mad.” He edged away, then tugged on her hand.

  With measured steps and using any rock or bush for a shield, they moved across the line of fire. Each time one side or the other shot, he pushed her to the ground, his body protecting hers. Each time, she held her breath until he moved again and she knew he was still alive. Each time, they crept to where they had to drop to the earth again.

  “Bannatyne!” he called, and she saw Gideon balancing a gun on one of the bigger rocks less than an arm’s length away.

  “Yes?” Gideon barely glanced in their direction. “Who is it?”

  “The man who can save your sister-in-law.”

  Gideon’s relief exploded out of his voice. “Sian, are you all right?”

  “Yes. Wraith knocked me down, so I was not hit.”

  “Wraith?” Gideon gawped at them.

  “Can we discuss this later?” Wraith asked. “I know a place nearby where she will be safe.”

  Gideon recovered quickly and shocked Sian by saying,“Take her there. Now!” He ducked as guns fired along the cliffs. As he raised his own gun, he added, “If you let any harm come to her, I shall hunt you down.”

  “I will bring her to Bannatyne Hall as soon as it is safe.”

  “Go!”

  “Stay safe, Gideon,” she said, but she doubted he heard her as he aimed his gun and fired.

  Wraith continued to lead her away from the battle. When he stopped by a boulder, it looked like all the others spread out through the field. As she was about to move behind the rock to keep it between her and the men firing on them, Wraith halted her. He cursed as more guns fired, and a ball caromed off a stone not far from them.

  She stared in disbelief when he pushed on the boulder and it moved. Even as strong as Wraith was, he should not have been able to dislodge the rock. He reached beneath it and opened a dark lantern enough to let out a finger’s breadth of light. She looked around the boulder and saw an opening and . . .

  “Stairs?” she asked in shock.

  “Go. No questions.”

  She obeyed. As she climbed down, she held the lantern so he could see where to put his feet. He paused to move the boulder back into place, and the noise of the guns vanished.

  He took the lantern from her and opened it farther. “Follow me.”

  She kept her hand on the stone wall so she would not trip on the uneven steps that curved down, as if she climbed from the top of a church tower. She counted one hundred steps, then nearly a hundred more. “This is astonishing.”

  “Aye. It allowed me to come to ye in the cave when the tide was rising. I was dry, as ye may recall, when I found ye in the dead-end tunnel.”

  “I never thought about it at the time. I was too glad to see you to notice. Did you build this?”

  “This?” He laughed. “I think such a project would have been noticed. No, these stairs were here when we first arrived. They may have been part of a fortification that once guarded the headland. A fortress far older than Bannatyne Hall.”

  “As old as the barrow?”

  “Maybe.”

  A narrow landing was edged by two more steps, but beyond it was a wall of stone. Wraith put his hands up and pulled a lever that she had not seen. The wall swung open, and she walked into the cave where she and Wraith had spent the night. She heard the stone grate as it closed again.

  He placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her into his embrace. His mouth captured hers, and she surrendered to the passion. Arching her arms up his back, she held him close. Not close enough because their clothes remained between them. The brush of his lips and the caress of the cloth around his head were intoxicating.

  “Much better,” he whispered as he brushed her tangled hair back from her face. “I am glad ye still kiss me with such fire. When I heard ye were to wed Trembeth—”

  “I agreed because I thought Arthyn was you.” She flushed, wondering how she could have persuaded herself the colorless curate was this amazing man.

  “I know ye did.”

  “When you said you wanted to teach me, I thought you were giving me a hint to the truth.”

  “The truth is that I would never have let ye wed him. Not while there was breath in my body.”

  With a moan, she pulled away from him and looked at where the shape of the door to the staircase was almost invisible in the wall. “Arthyn was shot. He could be dead. We should not have left him there.”

  “He was safe as long as he did not leave that spot behind the rock. The ball struck him in the leg, but it could not have been more than a grazing would. He was not bleeding much.”

  “My sisters’ husbands are still up there!”

  “And we should hear how they fare any minute now.” As if he had given a cue, heavy footfalls and boisterous voices burst into the cave.

  There was about a score of men. All wore dominoes like Wraith’s, but they were smiling and slapping each other on the back. If they were surprised to see her beside Wraith, they showed no sign as they congratulated each other uproariously.

  “Everyone here?” Wraith asked in a tone that suggested he was their host and about to pour tea.

  “Aye,” answered a man with an eyepatch over his mask. “Andrews almost got ‘it, but the ball missed ‘im. The fool ‘as a fool’s own luck every time.”

  A man grumbled, but Wraith waved them to silence. “That is good news, Cundy. What of Bannatyne and his men?”

  “One fellow was ‘it. Not bad, I would say, because ‘e was limpin’ back to ‘ide behind the viscount’s men at top speed.”

  “That would have been the curate.” He gave Sian a quick smile. “No one else?”

  “Not that we saw.”

  “Good man. Well done. All of you, well done.”

  “Thank you,” she breathed. “And thank heavens.”

  She was not sure Cundy heard her because he said, “Ye were right, Wraith. Thought ye were bein’ overly cautious when ye warned to expect another attack. They are a stubborn lot, not willin’ to own that they ‘ave been defeated by superior shots.” Without a pause, he hooked a thumb in her direction and said, “See ye found what ye were on the look-out for.”

  When she turned to Wraith in amazement, he laughed and tapped her nose. “I knew that if there was trouble, ye would not be far away. Ye need to stick this charming nose into everything to satisfy yer curiosity.”

  “It had nothing to
do with curiosity!” Tears swarmed into her eyes, but she would not let them fall in front of these men. “I was afraid you had been shot in the first attack. I feared you were lying dead or dying on the shore.”

  The men grew quiet as Wraith ran his gloved finger along her cheek. “Sweetheart,” he whispered, “I am sorry ye were frightened. I guessed ye might be, but I cannot be other than I am. Ye must accept that.”

  “I am trying.”

  “I know.” He raised his voice so the men could hear him. “But when I have mates like these to watch my back, how could anything happen to me?”

  As the men laughed, she whispered, “Do not be careless. You may call yourself Wraith, but you are flesh-and-blood, and a gun firing a ball at your heart will kill you just as swiftly it would any other man.”

  “I am never careless, sweetheart.” He gazed into her eyes. “Trust me on that, too.”

  Sian nodded and watched as the men cracked open one of the crates and pulled out four bottles of wine. As they passed them around, she sat on the pallet. She pulled her legs up close to her and wrapped her arms around her knees. She could not help smiling when the men teased each other, but she knew what had happened on the cliff above was deadly serious.

  When Wraith sat beside her, she asked, “Who are they?”

  “My men.”

  “They are not wreckers, are they?”

  “Cundy and his lads are smugglers who owe me a few favors, as I now owe them one in return. They are tired of the wreckers making a muddle of their operations. Some are sailors from Penzance eager to put the St. Gundred wreckers out of business. Others are the good people of St. Gundred.” He laughed. “No, that is not quite right. They are the better people of St. Gundred.”

  “So is she now a member of our anti-wrecker society?” called Cundy with a chuckle.

  “I do not know.” Wraith put his arm around her shoulders. “Are ye, sweetheart?”

  She looked at the men whose mouths were stained from the wine. They were a ragged group, and their clothes were stained with water and salt. More than one wore boots where the toes had worn through the leather, but the weapons each carried were well cared for. They were smugglers and fishermen and sailors, and, most important, they were Wraith’s allies.