The Thief's Daughter

by Victoria Cornwall

  ‘You look happy,’ he said, looking at her from the corner of his eye.

  ‘I am,’ Jenna replied. She reached across to let her hand rest on his chest. She could feel his heartbeat through her fingers. It was steady and solid, like him.

  ‘I am glad,’ he replied, placing his hand on hers and caressing her fingers. ‘I could be dead now, but I am here with you. I am fortunate indeed.’

  He lifted her fingers to his lips and kissed the tips, before encasing her hand in his and sliding it back to his heart.

  ‘Such tiny hands,’ he mused.

  Jenna smiled. ‘Would you like them larger?’ she teased.

  ‘No, your hand fits in mine as if it were meant to do so.’

  Jenna lifted herself up on her elbow and stared down on him. She looked at his hand over hers, strong, masculine and surrounded by a scattering of dark hairs on his chest. She wanted to thread her fingers through them, yet did not want to withdraw from his hold.

  ‘Do you believe people are made for each other, Jack?’

  He opened his eyes to look at her. ‘Do you?’

  ‘I asked you first.’

  He thought for a moment. ‘I think some people are more suited than others,’ he replied, closing his eyes. Easing her fingers apart, he slipped his between them and began to caress her skin, sliding them up and down to the rhythm of her breaths.

  I am made for you, she wanted to say. Only for you.

  He squeezed her hand. ‘Jenna?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I asked if you think people are made for each other.’

  ‘I didn’t used to,’ she replied as she looked at him lying next to her, his eyes closed, his lashes fanning his cheeks, his stubble darkening his olive skin. She felt the familiar ache of desire rise up inside her again. ‘Perhaps you could persuade me.’

  He smiled. ‘I hear mischief in your tone,’ he said, opening his eyes, ‘and see mischief in those dark eyes of yours.’

  They fell silent, each content to just look at each other’s face. The glint of mischief died in Jenna’s eyes.

  ‘You almost died trying to protect me,’ she said quietly. ‘I should never have let you go in my place.’

  ‘Your brother should never have asked you to go.’ He closed his eyes and his fingers stilled. ‘He brings you unhappiness. You deserve more from life.’

  ‘I am happy now.’

  ‘But for how long? You are too kind-hearted and will be paying his debts again before long. Let your brother get himself out of prison. He does not deserve your help.’

  ‘He is already free.’

  ‘Free? How?’

  ‘His creditors have been paid.’

  Jack fell silent and his fingers fell away from hers. Jenna felt a subtle change in the air and she shivered. She snuggled up to his warm body. It felt unyielding to her touch.

  ‘How did you know the dragoons were coming, Jenna?’ Jack asked.

  She had no reason not to tell Jack the truth. He was her future and she wanted no lies between them.

  ‘Silas told me. He sent a message asking me to meet him at Lanros Inn. There, he told me how he bought his freedom by telling the dragoons how the smugglers communicated. I am sorry, Jack. I tried to warn you as soon as I knew.’

  ‘And he told you this to keep you away from the beach?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Jack was silent for a moment. When he finally spoke his tone was measured.

  ‘Did he know I took your place? Did he not think you would try to warn me?’

  ‘Yes, he knew you would be on the beach, but I don’t think it crossed his mind that I would warn you. I’m sorry for what he did.’

  Jack fell silent again. The steady rise and fall of his chest remained, but his body felt tense beneath her fingers.

  ‘Your brother will reap the rewards for his betrayal.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Jenna asked.

  ‘Smugglers are ruthless. They do not like to be made fools of.’

  Jenna did not like the sombre mood that was wheedling its way into the room.

  ‘For the most part they are ordinary folk who see an opportunity to make some money to feed their families.’ Jenna wondered who she was trying to reassure, Jack or herself, but she continued on. ‘They accept that dodging the preventative men is part of the game.’

  Jack’s frown deepened. ‘You think that smugglers are local villagers who will be happy to wait for the next tide,’ he said. ‘Smuggling requires large numbers of people and mules to bring goods across the sea and have it distributed. Brandy and tobacco have to be sold on.’

  ‘As do spices, silks and paintings.’

  ‘Paintings?’ Jack asked, surprised.

  Jenna turned onto her tummy and rested on her elbows so she could look at Jack more clearly. ‘Yes. There were paintings and vases for a man called Lambskin.’

  Jack was thoughtful. ‘They are branching out and are no longer content with dodging the import taxes. This work takes organisation by ruthless gangs. With so many people involved, they have to keep their silence through fear and violence. Silas has much to fear and will be made an example of.’

  It was Jenna’s turn to frown. ‘You seem to know a lot about smuggling. By the way you talk one would think you would like to be the one to silence him.’

  ‘He is no friend of mine. His talk almost cost me my life.’

  ‘And now you are well. Silas has smuggled before. He knows the risks better than we.’ She moved closer and stroked his chest, enjoying the contour of his muscle as it spread to his shoulder. ‘Let us forget Silas,’ she soothed. ‘Let us enjoy the here and now. Let us enjoy each other.’ She moved to lie on top of him and looked down at his face. His eyes darkened as he looked at her.

  ‘You are right,’ he replied, reaching for her. ‘This is no time for such talk.’ He rolled her onto her back and rose above her, his silhouette shielding the early dawn light spilling through the window and hiding his expression.

  He began to kiss the curve of her neck and the smoothness of her shoulder causing her breath to quicken. Instinctively, she turned her head to expose more flesh for him to kiss. She heard him groan at her invitation. ‘Damn the free traders,’ she heard him mutter as he looked down upon her. He started kissing her skin again, running his lips across the curves of her ear. ‘Damn them all,’ he whispered hoarsely as he reached beneath the sheets to feel more of her.

  For Jenna, their lovemaking was as perfect as before. In the morning, she woke and turned to him. The perfection ended when she found he was gone.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Lanros Inn dominated the main road of the village. The building had grown in splendour over recent years as a direct result of the lucrative coach route that ran by it. Although it provided work for the villagers, its popularity and noise built resentment in those who remembered quieter times. This meant that as stagecoaches waited to depart, they were routinely subjected to sidelong glances of frustration and scorn by the villagers themselves. The inn’s height, while casting a shadow over the pedestrians below, offered fine views to guests inhabiting the rooms on the upper floors. It was through one of these windows that Silas now watched the lives of others unfold beneath him.

  The rain finally stopped, leaving muddy puddles to form on the uneven road surface below. Those who had sought shelter were finally venturing out into the daylight and Silas watched in silence as one final trunk was heaved aboard an overloaded stagecoach and tied into position. Passengers climbed in and a thud sounded within to signal they were ready. Silas watched silently, his thoughts more occupied with his sister than the scene below. He had waited a week, hoping she would contact him first, but this morning he could wait no longer and had sent her a message asking her to visit. Why had she not sent him a reply? Had she been hurt on the beach or was she still angry and just refusing to come?

  Silas’s money was beginning to run out and soon he must move on. If she did not call upon him soon, he would have to go to
her. The horses whinnied and the driver shouted a command, dragging Silas’s attention to them once more. With a stamp of their hooves, they began to pull on their harnesses, dragging the carriage behind with the turn of their wooden wheels. Its long awaited departure revealed a man on the far side of the road dressed in black. His tricorn hat obscured his face, but the determination in his step as he crossed the road appeared familiar to Silas. On reaching the other side of the road the man stopped and slowly looked up. His confidence told Silas he must have been watching him for some time, as he knew in which window to find him. Their eyes locked and Silas stepped back. He had expected this visit, yet he was not prepared when it came. Looking up at him, with a predatory stare, was Jack Penhale and Silas realised there was no place to hide.

  Silas nervously raked a hand through his hair as he waited. He considered running, but Penhale may have news of Jenna and his desire to know his sister was well for once outweighed his cowardice. He heard his arrival and the landlord’s muffled tones outside his door. Penhale’s words were clearer, dismissing the man in a manner that evoked no argument. It was evident Penhale wanted to see him alone. Silas fingered his neck cloth and prepared for the confrontation, but whereas yesterday his fashionable clothes made him feel confident, today they choked and mocked him.

  The door opened and Jack stepped inside, taking off his hat as he did so. His face was impassive, but his relaxed manner told Silas that he had no bad news of Jenna to tell. Silas knew he should be grateful for this small mercy, but he wasn’t. While he had spent the past week concerned for her welfare, this man had her in his life. Penhale knew more about Jenna’s life than her own blood kin, and that thought sickened him. Feelings of jealousy, which had festered in his gut ever since the day his sister had first mentioned Jack Penhale’s name, rose up inside him.

  ‘We meet again,’ Jack said coldly as he glanced about the room. ‘But this time you have money in your pocket instead of creditors at your door.’ He let his gaze wander over Silas’s foppish clothes and a slight smile curved his lips. ‘You appear to have joined the aristocracy?’ he teased.

  ‘What do you want, Penhale?’

  Jack smoothed a few raindrops off the brim of his hat. ‘Information. Your tastes are expensive and your purse is not deep. I have a little money, which I was planning to use to pay some of your creditors …’

  ‘Jenna told me you were willing to help me.’

  ‘I was willing to help her, not you,’ Jack corrected him.

  Silas tilted his chin at the retort. ‘I hear that you played at being a smuggler. How is the free trading these days?’

  ‘I know you told. Was it for money or was it to get your revenge on me?’

  Silas shrugged. ‘Both and more.’

  There was a short silence as Jack considered his next words. It gave Silas time to study the man who had turned his sister’s head. Gifted with good looks, good physique and intelligence, his sister had been easy prey for his charms. Did she not realise she was betraying her family by falling for a thief-taker? He had a hold on Jenna, Silas thought. He gritted his teeth as he resolved to do all in his power so this man would not win.

  Jack looked up. ‘The money I have I am willing to give you, if you can supply me with the information that I need.’

  ‘You have flexible morals. First you earn money to capture people like me, now you are willing to pay for my services. You tore me from my family and landed me in prison!’

  ‘You broke the law and your wife had already abandoned you.’

  ‘We all know what thief-takers are like – they report false crimes, bring innocent people to court and make up evidence.’

  ‘Your crime and evidence was not made up and you have not been innocent since you were in swaddling clothes.’

  ‘People like you took two of my brothers away – Jenna’s brothers – and were probably involved in the disappearance of our parents.’

  ‘If your brothers were taken because they broke the law then they deserved it. I am not corrupt. I am an honest thief-taker.’

  Silas almost laughed. ‘If you were as honest as you say, you would not be able to carry out your work. A spy cannot be honest to everyone they meet. Does Jenna know?’

  Jack looked away.

  Silas snorted. ‘I thought not.’

  ‘I am here to help you. I will pay you well for the information I need.’

  ‘What information?’

  ‘I want to know whose money finances the smuggling.’

  Silas laughed. ‘I would rather spit on your money. If I told you that, do you think I would survive for very long? They would come and find me.’

  ‘They will, which is the other reason why I am here.’

  Silas went to the window and looked down on the road below. Another carriage had arrived and travellers were unloading.

  ‘What do you mean?’ he asked warily.

  ‘Word will get back to Amos and Job Blake and their financier that you were the one who sold out to Henley and the dragoons. They will make you pay dearly.’

  Silas turned away from the scene below.

  ‘You must think I am a fool. I only told Henley. I ensured no one else was present.’

  ‘He came alone?’

  ‘With one other but I sent him out.’

  ‘You need to leave Cornwall. They will come for you and you will be lucky if you survive.’

  ‘I told you, only Henley was present.’

  ‘There are ears and eyes everywhere. They will know someone has told and your new-found wealth will have caused gossip. It is only a matter of time until they find you.’

  ‘Your concern touches me.’

  ‘I care nothing for you, but Jenna will be distraught if anything happens to you. It is a shame you do not have the same concern for her safety as she does for yours.’

  ‘I have been my sister’s protector since we could walk. You have known her for only a few months. How fortunate that your housekeeper could provide you information about the free traders. Did you hire her before or after you discovered that her late husband and her brother helped with some runs? Were the sweetmeats to soften her tongue? Next you will be bedding her so she would be fooled into thinking you love her.’ Silas saw a flash of anger in Jack’s eyes.

  ‘If you were any other man,’ he replied menacingly, ‘I would force your words back down your throat with my fist, but you are Jenna’s brother so I will hold my temper. I see that you will not help me, and I understand that, but I stand by my warning. It is not safe for you to stay here and you should leave. With the money you have left, travel north and do not come back again.’

  So this was his plan, thought Silas. He wants to scare me into leaving. He wants me out of my sister’s life. Silas’s lips narrowed. Well, he could play the same game of deception and drive a wedge between this man and his sister.

  ‘I no longer need your help,’ Silas said, opening the door. ‘I want you to leave.’

  ‘So be it, but you cannot say that I did not warn you.’

  As Jack turned to leave, Silas clumsily slipped his fingers into Jack’s pocket and lifted his purse. Jack grabbed his wrist and looked at the purse dangling in the air.

  ‘Even now, when your life is threatened and you are offered a way out, you return to your sewer rat ways.’ Jack ripped his purse from his fingers and shook the contents out. Coins fell over Silas and onto the floor around his feet. ‘Keep the money, Cartwright. Perhaps, when I am gone, you will think better of your decision and leave Cornwall.’

  ‘It would suit you if I were to go.’

  ‘You are right. I would like you gone. Jenna has a strong sense of family loyalty, which ties her to you. But those ties are no more than shackles that will drag her down and blight her future. It is not the life she wants. It is not the life she deserves. She is a good woman, Cartwright. If you love her you will leave.’

  Jack stepped out into the passage and Silas angrily slammed the door behind him. He took a deep breath to calm h
imself as he listened to Jack’s footsteps receding. He looked down, but it was not the coins at his feet that brought a smile to his face. In his open palm lay two buttons ripped from Jack’s sleeve.

  He straightened his waistcoat and combed his hair with his fingers, admiring his reflection in a mottled mirror above a wooden chest of drawers. Then he positioned himself with care and began to count to three. On the fourth silent beat he bent forward quickly to smash his face on the unforgiving wooden corner with a sickening thud. He stood up, slightly dazed, and looked into the mirror again. His cheek, bright red from the impact, quickly began to swell and deepen in colour. Red fragile threads spread across his eye as his smile broadened. What a tale he would have to tell Jenna. What a yarn he would spin. Her fledgling fondness for this man would turn to hate when she saw what he had done to her brother.

  The sound of a commotion outside his room caught his attention. He stopped examining his face and nervously looked out the window. From his vantage point on the upper floor, he could see Penhale riding away. He looked nervously to the top of the street and noticed Jenna making her way through the muddy puddles. She had received his message and was coming to see him.

  Men’s voices stopped outside his room. A prickle of fear rose up and flowed along the back of his neck. What if Penhale was right to warn him? What if the Blake brothers had come to get him? With trembling hands he tried to open the window in order to shout for help, but his fumbling made him too slow. The door swung open and banged against the wall. Two bearded men, with fists like boulders and bodies as solid as granite stone, stood in the doorway. It was Amos and Job Blake and they had violence on their minds. The moment of silence and calm was fleeting, before they rushed into the room and dragged him to the floor. No time was given for him to beg for leniency or make his escape. Their fists and muddy boots rained down upon him, and throughout his ordeal not a word was spoken or an explanation sought. Both sides knew why they had come, and both sides accepted the outcome.