The Thief's Daughter

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The Thief's Daughter Page 12

by Victoria Cornwall


  His voice was lovely to listen to – intelligent and learned, but comforting all at the same time. She closed her eyes so she would no longer be distracted and began to listen to the story he read.

  Within minutes she was transported into the world that lay within the pages of his book and an island far away. Away from a country brutally divided by class, where aristocrats looked down upon the poor majority and where a criminal underbelly grew unchecked. Away from a county where winter made its presence felt daily, and her brother and his family languished in the squalor of a debtors’ prison. For the hour that followed, Jenna was transported to a mystical vibrant island called Fiji, and by her side walked a man named Jack.

  Chapter Ten

  Captain Henley took off his hat and dipped his head below the doorframe. The air inside the passageway was foul, causing his nose to wrinkle in distaste as the smell clawed at his throat.

  ‘Do you have a room where we can be alone with him?’

  The keeper nodded, but did not move. His open hand waited for a coin, which Captain Henley reluctantly presented. The coin changed hands with a flick of two fingers and the keeper, satisfied, finally showed them the way, leading the two officers down the narrow cobbled path to a door at the end.

  The small room beyond the wooden door was no better. Green moss grew on the walls and black mould darkened the corners. Captain Henley and his deputy, Tilbury, waited in silence as they let their eyes wander over their grisly surroundings. They could hear the cries of the prison inmates in the distance and the rustle of rats scurrying behind the walls. They stood awkwardly in their smart uniforms of blue and white, unaccustomed to being summoned to such a place and a little fearful of dirtying their white breeches. It was a necessary evil, Henley thought to himself. When a message was sent offering them valuable information, the temptation was too much to resist.

  After some moments the door opened and in walked a man with filthy, ragged clothes and skin ingrained with grime. Yet, despite his appearance, his eyes were bright and he had a smile upon his face. He sat down at the table as if he were a lord, straightening his sleeves and brushing some dirt off his breeches. The men watched the inmate and wondered if they had been made a fool of by coming here.

  ‘You asked to see us,’ Henley said finally.

  ‘Aye, I did,’ said the man, enjoying the attention he was receiving. ‘I hear that you want information. I hear you have been asking around. I have what you want and I am willing to give it to you.’

  Captain Henley forgot his clean white breeches and sat down opposite him. Tilbury moved to the door to guard it.

  ‘What information do you have?’ Henley asked.

  ‘The sort you want.’

  ‘I will be the judge of that.’

  Silas laughed. ‘There is only one judge we should be fearful of.’ He looked up to the ceiling and winked. ‘Only one.’

  The man is enjoying this, thought Henley. He resented his toying but this might be the breakthrough he was waiting for.

  ‘What is this information? Tell us, man.’

  ‘I will … for a price.’

  Henley reached in his pocket and once again flipped over a coin. Silas looked at it and snorted in distaste.

  ‘A coin will not get me out of here. I have one creditor left that needs payment. I want my debts paid and some money for my pocket.’

  ‘You place great value on the information you have.’

  ‘I do.’

  ‘And if I should agree to this, what will I get in return?’

  Silas’s smile left his lips. Glancing up at Tilbury he said, ‘I want him out of here. I will only tell you.’

  Henley considered his condition before giving Tilbury a curt nod, indicating for him to leave. Reluctantly he did so.

  Silas waited until he was satisfied they were alone. Finally, he leant forward towards Henley, sending a waft of his breath into his face as he spoke. Henley hid his repulsion.

  ‘When I walk out of these prison walls and leave these rats behind,’ Silas whispered. ‘I will tell you.’

  ‘Tell me what?’

  Silas laughed, enjoying his position of power. ‘How to find out where the next run will be.’

  Henley attempted to mask his reaction, but the lack of it told Silas all he needed to know. Underneath, the man was as eager to learn more as a dog seeking a bitch.

  ‘How do you know this information?’ Henley asked in a measured tone.

  Silas raised an eyebrow.

  Henley answered his own question. ‘You have helped carry contraband.’ He watched Silas give a single, leisurely nod of his head. ‘I am listening.’

  ‘I will not tell you until I am free or you will leave me to rot in this hole after you have heard what I say.’

  Henley was barely able to conceal his frustration. The inmate held all the cards and he had no choice but to bow to his demands. His eyes searched Silas’s face as he considered the deal. This man was his first informant. If he rewarded him well, it would not only give him the information he sought, but pave the way for other informants to come forward. However, Henley did not intend to be made a fool of.

  ‘How will I know you are not feeding me lies?’ he asked.

  ‘I will speak the truth.’

  ‘A gambler’s tongue does not know how to speak the truth.’

  ‘But he knows which stake to place his bets on.’

  Henley fell silent. It might just work, but he would ensure that the money went direct to his creditor and not pass through this man’s filthy hands first. He would only fritter it away.

  Henley nodded his agreement. ‘I will arrange for your creditor to be paid.’

  ‘And some money for my pocket.’

  ‘Money you will gamble away.’

  ‘I need to live.’

  ‘Then find employment.’

  ‘I see that I’m wasting my time.’ Silas stood and prepared to leave. ‘Perhaps my information is best kept to myself.’

  A muscle worked in Henley’s jaw. ‘A month’s wage for your disposal, but no more.’

  Silas sat down again and smiled smugly.

  ‘But the money will be split,’ added Henley. ‘I will give you half for the information and the other half when it has been proved right.’

  Silas grinned at him. ‘It will be good to breathe clean air again.’

  His smile was not returned. ‘Meet me at the Dog and Duck tavern when you are out and we will talk further. I will pay you the first instalment when you have told me what you know.’

  ‘Come alone. There are ears and eyes everywhere who will sell what they know. Do not tell anyone, not even your soldiers until the night of the raid.’

  ‘The King’s men are not corrupt,’ snapped Henley.

  ‘Everyone can be corrupted if the price is right.’

  Captain Henley narrowed his eyes. ‘You have little faith in mankind,’ he replied. The wretched man opposite him did not answer. ‘But perhaps you have good cause. I will come alone.’

  Silas put out his hand and Captain Henley reluctantly took it in his. The deal was done.

  ‘You will be betraying a large number of people for your freedom. I hope you make good use of it and avoid returning to this pit,’ Henley said, scraping back his chair to stand.

  ‘There is only one person I am interested in and he will be on the beach at the next run. When you make your move on the landing gang you will remove him from my life. If others die in the process, so be it. I owe them no loyalty. I only care about my sister and myself. The rest can rot in hell.’

  Jenna picked up the abandoned breakfast plate from the table and looked at it. The uneaten eggs, cooked how she knew he liked them, were now cold, sunken and stuck to the plate. She wasn’t used to wasting food and for a moment she wondered what to do with them. Jack did not usually leave anything, preferring to eat whatever dishes she chose to give him, even the ones that had not turned out as well as she had hoped.

  As she hesitated over the
mundane decision, she could hear him pulling on his boots in the next room. The sound of sharp tugging was filled with frustration and energy, not the usual gentle sound of leather sliding over cloth. She often saw him put on his boots. It was a confident, unhindered routine that was mesmerising to watch, but this time she did not stay, sensing that he wanted to be left alone. He did not have to ask this of her, she just knew and gave him the solitude he desired. Jenna bit her bottom lip, his plate temporarily forgotten in her hand.

  She had discovered that her sensitivity to his needs came naturally to her. It was not something that she was forced to develop in order to survive, as with her late husband. It was an innate understanding of his soul, encouraged by desire, curiosity and a willingness to learn about him. It was like a lesson that was continuous and constantly evolving but without the need for study. His behaviour this morning suggested that something was troubling him, and Jenna had a growing realisation of what it might be. She dropped the plate and eggs in some water and went to him.

  He was looking for something, tossing papers and books aside as he did so. ‘You are not hungry?’ she asked.

  ‘No,’ he replied, finding his tinderbox and slipping it in his pocket. ‘The weather has hampered my work these past three days but now I have things to do.’

  ‘Is there anything troubling you?’

  He ignored her question and continued his searching. ‘I pity the fishermen who have to work in such winds. There will be many uprooted trees on the track to the north and roof slates in need of repair, I wager.’

  ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘I have a meeting this afternoon and won’t be home until late. Although the worst of it has passed, I suggest you keep the drapes drawn to keep in the warmth as there will still be a chill in the air when the sun goes down.’

  ‘Has it turned?’

  ‘Yes, the weather has turned. I feel we are in for a calmer spell now.’

  ‘You know that is not what I mean,’ said Jenna. Jack looked away, but Jenna would not be put off. ‘Has the weathervane turned?’

  Jack straightened. A single nod of his head confirmed what she suspected. A rush of prickly fear swept over her. ‘Which way does it point?’

  ‘Tudor Cove,’ he replied solemnly.

  His searching came to an end, for in truth he was not looking for anything of importance. His offer of help was now becoming a reality and true to his word he was going to take her place on the beach tonight. Tomorrow her brother would be free. Yet Jenna felt no relief that it would soon be over, only a sickening anxiety welling up in her chest. She twisted her fists into her skirts to keep the tension she felt in check.

  Jack glanced up and noticed. ‘I will be back before you know it.’

  ‘Tudor Cove is so near.’

  ‘Not a ten minute walk from here.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘I saw the lugger drop the goods last night.’

  ‘I did not hear you leave.’

  A slight smile curved his lips, but there was no happiness in his tone. ‘I am glad I did not disturb you.’

  ‘Were you planning to leave without telling me?’

  He did not answer.

  ‘You believe there will be trouble?’

  ‘There will be no trouble.’ He sounded so sure. Was he trying to reassure her or perhaps telling her the truth? It is easy to believe such words when desperation fills one’s heart. Eagerly she took up the mantle of reassurance.

  Jenna smiled nervously. ‘If I, a woman, can masquerade as a smuggler, I am sure you can.’

  ‘I do not plan to fail.’

  ‘Everyone is involved in one way or another. I’m sure the tea at Sally’s shop is delivered in the dead of night.’

  ‘Keep the light low when it grows dark and use only one candle. Don’t let them know you are up.’

  ‘And then there are those who supply the horses and turn the weathervane.’

  ‘Go to bed early tonight,’ Jack said, putting on his hat and making for the door.

  ‘And then there are all those fishermen who allow their boats to be used. There cannot be many in Cornwall who have not had smuggled goods pass through their hands.’ Jenna followed him. ‘Silas says that no one has been convicted here for twenty years.’

  ‘They have the luck of the devil,’ Jack said, reaching for the latch of the door. Jenna stepped in front of him, barring his way.

  ‘I’m afraid for you, Jack. Don’t do it.’

  Jack looked at her clenched fists entangled in the cloth of her skirts and gently placed a hand on each.

  ‘You often do this when you are worried. Did you know that?’

  The warmth of his hands relaxed her, causing her to slowly unfurl her fingers beneath and release the crumpled cloth of her skirts. He is so close, she thought, if she dared she could step into his arms and lay her head upon his chest. She could hear him breathe, as he could her, their chests rising and falling with each mirrored breath they took.

  ‘And if I don’t do this, what then?’ he asked her softly as he looked down upon her hair.

  Jenna could not answer as she had no words that he would wish to hear. If the debts were not paid, Silas would remain in prison and his burden would remain with her.

  Jack smiled. ‘As I thought.’ He lifted her hands in his and looked at them, turning them in his palms and stroking them gently with a brush of his thumbs. ‘Your hands are too soft to carry such heavy cargo again and your face should not be hidden by mud.’ He looked up. As he held her gaze his eyes grew black. The moment stretched and her throat grew dry. He was going to kiss her, she thought hopefully, but instead he gave her hands a reassuring but brisk squeeze. His smile broadened. ‘Don’t fret all day. It is the truth when I say that for the most part I am in a meeting and in no danger. For the latter part I intend to avoid any trouble.’ His sudden cheerfulness sounded forced and was fleeting, but it succeeded in doing what had to be done as it broke the spell between them.

  ‘Silas will want to thank you himself.’

  ‘I care nothing for him.’

  ‘Then it is I who should thank you. Were it not for me—’

  ‘Do not feel any guilt. I have my own reasons for doing this.’ He gently moved her aside and opened the door. ‘Keep yourself warm. As I said, there is still a chill in the air.’

  ‘I will not be able to sleep until I know you have come home safe.’

  Jack did not appear to hear her. Instead he looked across at the rugged coastline that stretched for miles into the distance.

  ‘No, I do not envy the fishermen. The coast has fine views but the winter winds are harsh.’

  ‘Please take care. If they discover you are not one of them—’

  ‘They will not.’

  ‘What if something goes wrong?’

  ‘I will send word. There is money in a pot in the cupboard should you need it.’ He began to stride away, leaving her to stand in the doorframe alone.

  ‘I will not need it,’ she called after him, ‘for I know you will come back.’

  He did not answer, his mind being elsewhere. She watched him walk away until she could see him no more. He was gone and although she believed he would be back, his remark about the money ran a prickle of fear across her skin that his departure had a threat of permanence about it. She carefully closed the door on the empty track he had followed, in the hope to stop such thoughts and shut them out.

  Jack collected his horse from the field and headed towards Goverek town. Although his horse was fresh and willing, the journey took longer than he expected. Three days of rain had saturated the turf making a cross country route hazardous. Therefore, to avoid his horse suffering an injury, he chose to travel by road, which, although quiet, added unwanted time to his journey.

  For the most part, the ride was not unpleasant as it followed a swollen, brown river littered with fallen branches, which added interest to his journey. Sunshine peeped out from fast passing clouds to cast welcome, warm sunbeams on
his skin, while flocks of starlings from Northern Europe seeking a milder winter climate gathered noisily in the distant fields.

  He thought of Jenna, wishing the circumstances were different and that she could be with him now, enjoying the sights the storm had left in its wake. He thought of her face as he was leaving. Although etched with fear, it remained beautiful to his eyes and he wondered if she ever noticed his growing desire for her, despite trying to hide it. It was best if their relationship was kept in check for now, he thought, as their lives were entangled more than she knew.

  If he were to confess his involvement with her brother he risked damaging something that had yet to blossom. What woman would fall in love with the man who had committed her brother to prison? To make matters worse, she thought he was helping her brother for her, but he did not deserve such praise because there was another reason he was taking her place tonight. To confess to her that he was spying on the smugglers might put her at risk as she would know too much. Yet not confessing meant he took all her praise, which he did not deserve. He could only hope that when her brother was free again, she would look more kindly on him when he finally told her the truth. He knew that she had a kind heart. This morning it had taken all his strength not to tell her how he felt and kiss her goodbye. Had he lost the battle to keep his distance, at least he would have had the taste of her on his lips right now.

  His thoughts were getting him nowhere so it was with a sense of relief that he finally arrived at Goverek. Sir Enoch Pickering had sent word that he wished to meet him at the only remaining coffeehouse in the town. Jack disliked coffeehouses. Once an all-inclusive social meeting place, they had been numerous and frequented by many. Now their popularity was waning and many had closed. Those that remained open excluded all but the educated gentlemen, who valued their own opinions more highly than those of others around them. These men chose the form of debate to show off their knowledge as they supped their bitter coffee in wood panelled rooms. Jack found no pleasure hearing their wisdom, if at the end of it nothing ever changed. However, Enoch had insisted on meeting him at Salwes Coffeehouse, so reluctantly Jack agreed.

 

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