A Notorious Love

by Sabrina Jeffries

  “Ready, love?” Daniel whispered and offered her his arm.

  She took it, smiling faintly. “I’m ready for anything as long as you’re with me.”

  Christ, he hoped her faith in him was not misplaced. If he failed her and Juliet, he’d never forgive himself.

  When they moved into the barn, Jack’s men were milling about. A couple he recognized, but the other five were strangers. They eyed him with blatant curiosity, making him wonder what Crouch had been telling them all these years about his former lieutenant who’d run off to London to make his fortune with Griff Knighton.

  Young Seth was also there, sitting on a bale of hay, looking sullen and wary and guilty as the devil. As soon as he saw them enter, he jumped to his feet and came toward them carrying a walking stick.

  “Oh, Mrs. Brennan, they haven’t hurt you, have they? If I’d known the horse didn’t belong to you, I would never have borrowed it and taken it to town. I didn’t mean to bring them here. I swear I didn’t!”

  Daniel scowled. So that’s how Wallace had found them. If he ever got out of this, he’d take that damned fool lad over his knee.

  “It’s all right, Seth,” Helena answered. “You didn’t know.”

  Seth held the walking stick out to Helena. “I…um…thought you could use this. It was my grandfather’s. I dug it out of an old chest.”

  “Are you sure your parents would approve?” Helena responded gently.

  “Please take it,” Seth said. “It’s the least I can do after I’ve…caused you so much trouble.”

  Helena hesitated, then accepted the cane. “Thank you.”

  “Are we carrying the boy with us, too?” one of Jack’s men asked, jerking his thumb toward Seth.

  Seth’s eyes widened in clear fright.

  “Don’t be absurd,” Helena snapped before Jack could answer. “He has nothing to do with any of it. He merely let us sleep in his barn. Besides, his parents are returning today, and they’ll call in the constable if they find him gone. He doesn’t know what this is all about, so what can he possibly do?”

  Jack considered that a moment, then turned to Seth with a grim expression. “Now you listen to me, boy. You’ve heard of Jolly Roger Crouch, haven’t you?” Seth bobbed his head.

  “Then you know he eats boys like you for breakfast. So you’d best keep your tongue in your head if you don’t want it sliced off.”

  Daniel snorted. Jack had never sliced off anybody’s tongue in his life.

  “And if you’re not worried for yourself, then you’d best be worried for your parents,” Jack added. “We know where you live, remember.”

  “Oh, you can’t be hurting my parents!” Seth cried. “They’re good people, and they’ve naught to do with this.”

  “You just make sure it stays that way, d’you hear?” Jack took one look at the boy’s now sickly pallor and rolled his eyes. Removing his purse from his coat, he counted out some silver. “Now then, you helped us find Danny Boy, and we do remember our friends. So take this. For your help and your silence.”

  “Th-thank you,” Seth whispered and took the silver, though he shot Helena an apologetic glance as he did so.

  Daniel felt Helena’s hand on his arm relax, and he gritted his teeth. It would’ve served the lad right if Jack had taken him. Then again, Daniel didn’t need to be worrying about the boy as well. Bad enough that Helena was mixed up in it.

  When Jack herded them out of the barn, Daniel was surprised to see a coach-and-six awaiting them. “Traveling in style these days, are you?” he told Jack.

  “Better than putting you on a mount alone,” Jack answered. “Though I don’t suppose you’d run off and leave your wife behind.”

  “No.” And that was the worst part. Even if he could escape Jack’s guard of seven men, he couldn’t manage it with Helena at his side. Which meant there wasn’t much he could do to get them out of this just now.

  “I couldn’t believe it when Wallace said you’d married,” Jack went on as he accompanied Daniel and Helena to the coach. He eyed Helena askance. “Given your habits with women, I figured he was wrong. Before I heard her talk, I thought for sure she was just one of your…well, you know—”

  “Strumpets?” Helena said in outrage. “You thought I was a strumpet?”

  Jack blinked at her forthright manner. “I didn’t mean nothing by it, ma’am. But you have to admit that you weren’t even wearing nightclothes…and Danny here…” He shot Daniel a helpless glance.

  “Don’t look at me,” Daniel said. “You were the one stupid enough to insult her.”

  “I only meant that I didn’t expect any woman in Danny’s bed to be respectable. That is—”

  “It’s perfectly clear what you meant,” Helena snapped. “You, sir, are no gentleman.”

  Daniel couldn’t help laughing. “I doubt that’ll work any better on him, lass, than it does on me.”

  “Perhaps not, but it had to be said.” Chin held high, she hurried ahead to the coach.

  “I ain’t no gentleman, that’s true,” Jack called after her, “and I’m proud of it!” Then he lowered his voice. “Fractious woman, your wife. Is she always so plainspoke?”

  “Yes, especially when she’s rousted out of bed by a lot of scoundrels brandishing swords and pistols.”

  Jack frowned. “I told you before, you’ve got naught to fear from us as long as you cooperate. And nobody will lay a hand on your wife, neither.”

  “Good. Because the first person who does will draw back a stump.” Daniel stalked off to help Helena into the carriage, leaving Jack mumbling to himself about people who got above themselves and turned into gentry.

  Once they were in the coach, Daniel tried to sit next to her, but Jack would have none of it. He put her beside him, then took out his pistol, which he kept none too casually resting on his knee, pointed at Helena.

  It was uncocked, and it was possible Daniel could wrestle it away, but he wasn’t taking any chances with Helena’s life. Besides, he might be better off playing along for a while and trying to find out where Crouch had Juliet.

  Despite the pistol, Jack seemed determined to treat this like a bloody social call. As the coach rumbled off, he turned to Helena with his smoothest smile. “So how long have you been married to our Danny?”

  In typical Helena fashion, she straightened her spine and shot back, “I believe he is no longer your Danny, nor has he been for some time.”

  Take that, you old fool, Daniel thought smugly. Helena mightn’t have consented to marry him yet, but she was loyal to him all the same.

  “Ah, but we did have good times when he was,” Jack replied, not to be put off. “Didn’t we, Danny?”

  Daniel lifted an eyebrow. “D’you mean all those cold nights playing spotsman and dodging the preventive officers? Or the predawn mornings running up the beach with two loaded tubs while the icy rain pelted us?”

  “You’re leaving out the good stuff—the thrill of slipping past an exciseman in the dark, and those evenings when the sky was so scattered with stars, it was like a thousand spilt shillings.”

  Daniel snorted. Only Jack could wax poetic about free trading. Jack’s eyes twinkled with mischief now, which put Daniel on his guard.

  “As I recall, Danny Boy, there were certain tasks you didn’t mind a’tall. Like the letting down.”

  “Letting down?” Helena asked.

  Although Daniel glared at him, Jack was in the mood for devilment. “Ain’t Danny told you about that?” At her shake of the head, Jack explained, “When we transport the liquor into England, it’s over-proof, y’see. That’s so more of it can be brought in. Once it’s here, we got to dilute it for sale. Water’s added a bit at a time, and we put numbered glass beads in it that float to the top when it’s at the right mix. When he was only a wee bit, Danny was in charge of watching the beads until the right one floated.”

  “Danny always was good with numbers,” Helena said, straightfaced.

  Daniel’s gaze shot to her,
but she actually seemed amused.

  “Aye,” Jack retorted. “But that wasn’t the part he liked best. He fancied the reward for getting it right: a dram of the brandy. You can be sure that Danny learned right quick how to get the dilution perfect.”

  “Damn it, Jack, you make me sound like a tippler at the wee age of ten.”

  “As I understand it, my dear,” Helena interjected, “tippling wasn’t the only vice you began at an uncommonly early age.”

  Impudent wench.

  Jack went on gleefully. “Danny enjoyed the letting down so much that he even got testy when another boy took it over from him.” Jack nudged Helena. “Can you believe it? Danny tried to sabotage the lad by rubbing the paint off the beads and painting new numbers.”

  He’d forgotten all about that, and despite his annoyance, he smiled. “I got into trouble for it, too. Had to spend the week mending sails, and I loathed mending sails.”

  “You got off easy, in my opinion,” Jack commented. “I wanted to tan your hide, but Jolly Roger wouldn’t let me. Always did coddle you too much, m’boy.”

  “Do you call sending his men out to carry me and my wife off ‘coddling’?” Daniel retorted.

  “Oh, he don’t know about this. He’s off on a run, won’t be back until early morn. But when Wallace told me you were nosing about, I figured I’d best take care of it. I know Jolly Roger will want you where he can keep an eye on you once he returns.”

  Yes, so Daniel couldn’t sneak Juliet away. He sobered at the thought. “So you’ve stooped to kidnapping now. I wonder what Bessie thinks of that?”

  That seemed to suck the wind out of Jack’s sails. He glanced away quickly. “Bessie’s dead, Danny. She died of the consumption two years ago.”

  When Daniel’s face undoubtedly reflected his shock, Helena glanced in bewilderment to Jack. “Who’s Bessie?”

  “Jack’s wife,” Daniel answered. The closest thing he’d had to a mother during his years smuggling.

  He glanced out the coach window, barely registering the town of Sedlescombe they now passed through. Bessie was dead. It was hard to fathom. Though he’d lived in a house with Jolly Roger and some bachelor free traders during his youth, it was Bessie who’d kept an eye out for him, making sure he was well-fed and well-treated. She was probably the real reason he’d escaped having his hide tanned by Jack.

  His gaze swung back to Jack. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

  “You might have if you’d ever bothered to come back and see us,” Jack grumbled. Then, as if embarrassed by that show of sentiment, he shrugged. “Anyway, it was her time, is all.”

  Daniel was used to the stoicism of free traders, for whom the dance between the sea and the exciseman occasionally ended in death, but it suddenly seemed too cruel for the likes of Bessie. “She was a good woman. She didn’t deserve to die so young.”

  Jack flinched. “No, she didn’t. And you’re right about what she would’ve thought of this—she wouldn’t have liked it a bit. I know that.” His chin jutted out. “But times are harder now than when Bessie was alive, and liable to grow harder still. There’s rumors of a new coast guard being formed. It’s been plaguing Crouch to distraction. He’s thinking of giving up the free trading now that he’s getting old.”

  “Not too old for kidnapping, clearly,” Daniel said sarcastically.

  Jack looked affronted. “Wouldn’t none of this have happened if Knighton had considered Jolly Roger’s proposal in the first place.”

  A sudden chill wrapped about Daniel’s gut. “Proposal? What the devil are you talking about?” He glanced at Helena, who looked as bewildered as he.

  “You know what I mean,” Jack said. “The one Jolly Roger offered last spring. When he went to London and told Knighton that he’d expose your connection to us if Knighton didn’t start doing business with us again.”

  “He did what?” Daniel leaned forward, his hands clenching into fists on his knees.

  Jack shifted nervously on his seat. “Knighton must’ve told you about it. Jolly Roger threatened to go to the papers with the story of how you used to be a notorious smuggler and how you were the son of Wild Danny Brennan. He figured Knighton wouldn’t want to see you tarred and feathered in the press, possibly even arrested. It mightn’t set well with his lofty friends if they knew you’d been a criminal.”

  “Those ‘lofty friends’ already know most of it.” Still, Daniel reeled from Jack’s revelation. Crouch had tried to force Griff by using Daniel’s past? And Griff hadn’t told him?

  “That’s what Knighton said. He told Jolly Roger to go to the devil, said he didn’t care who knew and he didn’t figure you cared, neither.”

  “Bloody right!” Why hadn’t Griff told him all this? He’d probably thought to protect him, knowing that Daniel would cut off his right hand before letting his connections harm Griff or Knighton Trading.

  Jack went on. “Knighton said he’d make damned sure Jolly Roger was hanged for it if he went to the papers about you.”

  “Good for Griff,” Daniel snarled. “That’s what Crouch gets for assuming that Griff would be an easy mark. He should’ve known better. Griff would sooner lance a vein than give him hush money.”

  “It wasn’t money he wanted,” Jack reminded Daniel as the coach clattered over a bridge, jarring them all. “He just wanted Knighton to go back to buying our goods. Nobody wants to fund the runs anymore—and Jolly Roger thought that p’raps with a bit of pressure, Knighton would consider it.” His tone turned acid. “He never dreamed you and Knighton had got so respectable you considered yourselves too good for shady profits.”

  Daniel shook his head. “Even if Griff wanted to finance the runs again, he sure as the devil wouldn’t choose Crouch. The man nearly had him killed, for God’s sake!”

  Jack made a dismissive gesture. “That was ten years ago, Danny. Tempers were high, and hasty words were spoke. I don’t think Jolly Roger had any idea Knighton still held that against him.”

  “Then he’s more of an idiot than I took him for.”

  “Anyway, Knighton didn’t take kindly to any of it. Said it was blackmail. He had Jolly Roger thrown into the street on his arse.”

  “I’m not surprised.” But if Griff had told him, Daniel could’ve warned him that Crouch wouldn’t stop at blackmail. Griff had badly underestimated Crouch, something Daniel never would’ve done.

  “To be honest,” Jack went on, “the way Griff humiliated him is what fired Jolly Roger’s temper. If not for Knighton’s threats to set the excisemen on him, he would have marched down to the Times there and then. But when he heard about Knighton’s wedding a few months later, he saw his chance for a better revenge.”

  Helena made a little whimpering sound, and Daniel’s gaze shot to her. He’d forgotten what she must be thinking of this, of him. Bloody hell, what if she thought he had known of it? Bad enough that Griff had unwittingly brought this on Juliet, but if Helena thought Daniel had kept it from her…

  He groaned. He couldn’t even reassure her without revealing her identity to Jack.

  Especially when Jack was already eyeing them both curiously. “Jolly Roger half-expected you to come later and offer him hush money yourself. He was surprised you let Griff speak for you.”

  “Griff never told me about any of it.” Daniel’s gaze shot to Helena, who looked stricken. “Griff kept it from me,” he repeated, more for her sake than Jack’s.

  Though her eyes were alive with emotion, she seemed to have mastered her agitation. But that only made it worse, because now he didn’t know what she thought. Did she believe him? Surely she wouldn’t blame him for this, too.

  His heart sank as he tore his gaze from her. What did it matter if she did? She had every right to. Griff may’ve brought this on her family initially, but it couldn’t have happened without Daniel’s past. The weapon had always been there—Crouch had just taken his sweet time about using it.

  “So Jolly Roger kidnapped Juliet for money because he was angry at Griff,
” he said. “Didn’t he realize that Griff would send the excisemen after the lot of you once this was over?”

  “He wasn’t supposed to find out it was Crouch.” Jack’s arch look made it clear that he blamed Danny for that change in affairs.

  “Come now, surely you realized he would figure it out in the end.”

  “Pryce covered his tracks, took a false name and everything.”

  “I found Pryce, so why couldn’t Griff?”

  Jack rubbed his chin. “You’re better at looking for our sort than Knighton. Not to mention that fool Wallace opening his mouth. If not for him, you wouldn’t have known what we were about, would you have?”

  Probably not, though he’d be damned if he told Jack that.

  “Besides,” Jack went on, “the ransom note wasn’t signed—it just gave instructions for switching off the money and the girl, which ain’t happening in Sussex.”

  Daniel stored that bit of information. “Surely you realized that once Juliet was freed, she’d tell Griff…” He trailed off, icy apprehension stealing his breath. “Unless Crouch never intended to free her. Unless he’d decided he wasn’t above killing.”

  “No!” Jack protested. “No, killing was never part of it. That’s why we didn’t let the girl see nobody but Pryce. We figured Knighton would think it was Captain Will Morgan running the show, and he’d not be able to track him down, since there’s no such man.”

  “But that’s all changed now,” Daniel reminded him grimly. “You’ve got me and my wife to contend with, don’t you? Crouch isn’t going to let us go now that we know, you can be sure of that.”

  “Danny! Don’t talk like that.” Jack looked annoyed. “You know him better than that. He ain’t gonna lift a hand to you.” He paused, then fixed Danny with an earnest gaze. “You’ll understand better when you see him, Danny Boy, but he’s faring poorly. Right ill, he is. He’s giving up the free trading to go live somewhere comfortable. This was his last chance at making money to keep him the rest of his days. Once Griff pays him the ransom, he’ll take off for parts unknown. Then it don’t matter if you know.”