The Thief's Daughter

by Victoria Cornwall

  ‘I agree. She will be taken care of until your return. Of course she may choose to refuse my help. She is a woman with her own mind and I cannot help her if she does not want it. What is the second?’

  ‘What I will receive in payment.’

  ‘What do you want?’

  ‘Something that was taken away from me when my father died.’

  Enoch emptied his glass with a backward tilt of his head. ‘What is that?’

  Jack told him.

  ‘I will arrange it. When can you leave?’

  ‘Tomorrow,’ Jack said, looking into the depths of the amber flames in the fire. ‘I can leave tomorrow.’

  Jenna sat on the bed, hugging her knees and staring fixedly at the open door. She did not see it. Her mind’s eye was elsewhere, remembering the look of disappointment on Jack’s face before he left. The painful memory sapped her motivation to move from the bed and close it and brought tears to her eyes. She was losing him, she realised, and in the worst possible way.

  The thought of living a life without him now filled her with dread. How could she have ever contemplated such a future before? How could her mind have become so distorted in thought? She must do something – anything, to gain his forgiveness. After Henry’s beatings, she swore she would never beg a man again, but for Jack she would. She would crawl over burning embers to have his love again if she had to. There would be many women who would despise her for such thoughts, but she did not care. To be judged so harshly meant they had never experienced a love comparable to her feelings for Jack. A love she had denied in her hours of madness. A love she may never experience again, for she knew that no other man would do.

  Jack climbed the stairs to his room, his mind brooding over the events of the day. Discovering that Jenna planned to betray him shocked and confused him. Discovering that she believed he killed her brother almost felled him. He still felt wounded, as surely as if she had fired a musket ball into his chest. Any man in his right mind would have nothing more to do with her, but loving someone as he loved her made the sensible thing to do impossible.

  He stepped on to the wooden landing and looked at the colourful rugs dotted over the oak boards to add extra warmth. He looked down the row of doors, knowing he would have to pass Jenna’s bedroom on the way to his. As he approached it he could tell, from the light cascading onto the rug at her door, that she had not closed it since he left. She was still awake. This fact alone made him decide that it was only right to tell her he was leaving.

  He approached quietly and looked into her room. Her small figure sat on the bed, her face hidden in cradled arms that rested on bent knees. He wondered if she had been crying. When she looked up, he knew that she had.

  Stripped of her finery, she still retained a fragile beauty, made all the more poignant by her tearstained cheeks and wet lashes. He almost weakened. Almost …

  ‘I am leaving for France in the morning. I have arranged for you to remain in the cottage until you choose to go. You may leave when you want, you do not have to stay for my return.’

  ‘Do you want me to stay?’

  ‘I do not know.’

  He made to leave, but she slipped from the bed and came towards him.

  ‘Go back to bed, Jenna,’ he said gruffly, halting her steps. ‘The night has turned cold and you will catch a chill.’

  ‘I don’t care,’ she said, stopping and wringing her hands.

  He looked at her.

  ‘Don’t cry. It will do us both good to have distance between us.’

  ‘It will do me no good. I will worry until you are home. When will you be back?’

  ‘I don’t know. I will travel through Europe and hope to discover where the paintings came from and if they were stolen. It will take time – two, maybe three months.’

  She was trembling, he realised, as she tried to hide her hands in her oversized nightgown. It covered most of her curves, except for the top swell of her breasts. He swallowed and dragged his eyes away. He knew from experience what lay beneath the shapeless sack, and the knowledge made it hard to turn away, but he did all the same.

  ‘I will send word when I plan to return,’ he told her curtly. ‘There is no more to say.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she cried. He heard her bare footsteps run towards him. He halted, but still refused to look at her. Her slight frame slipped between him and the door so he had no choice but to see her. ‘I was wrong to believe Silas’s lies. It was four and twenty hours of madness. Please, Jack, do not go away.’ She shut the door. ‘Stay, do not leave me. Let us forget what has happened.’

  He shook his head and Jenna became more desperate. She reached up to touch his chest and he felt her warm body press against his. ‘I have never met anyone who was as good and kind to me as you. It was easier to believe the worst, than to think I was worthy of your attention.’

  He held her arms to ease them away. ‘Don’t,’ he whispered hoarsely.

  Jenna reached up to lay small kisses upon his cheek. ‘Please stay, Jack,’ she breathed. ‘Please forgive me. Hear me beg … you see, I have no pride left if it means I can persuade you to stay.’

  Jack closed his eyes, hoping to shut her out, but all it did was heighten the sensations of her kisses. Her body pressed still further against him.

  ‘When will you cease playing these games?’ he said into her hair.

  ‘I play no game at all.’

  Jack’s hands left her arms and followed the arch of her back to the curve of her hips.

  ‘You will not persuade me to stay,’ he said, burying his face into the crook of her neck to smell and taste her soft skin beneath his lips. He had wanted this woman since the first day she smiled at him. After tonight he may not see her again.

  ‘Then let me persuade you to stay for tonight,’ she coaxed.

  He felt the firmness of her bottom in his hands and roughly pulled her up towards him and off the floor. ‘You are using your charms to change my mind. You will not change it, even if I do take what you are offering.’

  Her legs wrapped around him. ‘I know you will not change your mind,’ she whispered. ‘I do this for myself as well as you.’

  He felt her lips against his skin; angrily he claimed them with his mouth wanting to taste their sweetness and make her feel the passion and anger he held inside him.

  Their kissing was the undoing of him and any resistance he thought he had crumbled into nothing. The urge she was coaxing rose up inside him and he cared nothing for what had happened between them. All he could think of was the present and that he wanted her.

  He slipped his hand beneath her gown to feel the thigh that wrapped around his waist. It felt how he imagined it and he wanted more of her. He carried her to the bed and laid her down, then he began a trail of hungry kisses towards her breasts. He could feel Jenna’s fingers raking his hair and hear her soft moans beneath him. Both only fed his desire for more … and his resentment that he could not resist her.

  I will make you remember me, he thought angrily, I will make this night a night you will cherish for the rest of your life, for if I find I cannot forgive you, I want no other man to fill the void I leave.

  ‘Please stay,’ Jenna whispered as she arched to his touch.

  ‘I will not stay.’

  A tear fell from her eye as she sighed at his touch.

  ‘Then promise me, Jack,’ she whispered into the night air. ‘Promise me that you will leave before I wake, so I won’t have the pain of saying goodbye.’

  Chapter Twenty

  A silent covering of grey clouds hung harmlessly over Goverek town for most of the day. Eventually they darkened, churning up inky black seas in the sky, which drained the colour from the day and brought a sense of foreboding to the inhabitants below. The growing tension finally broke when sheets of rain fell onto the warren of cobbled streets. The downpour helped cleanse the narrow alleyways of loiterers and stray dogs, and flushed animal and chamber pot excrement into the rudimentary gutters.

  Only
one woman, slight in frame, remained outside in the rain. Occasionally the woman stopped to look about her, holding her shawl like a tent above her head to ward off the rain. Eventually she found the door she was looking for. She ran across the road, sidestepped a puddle and sheltered under an overhang as she banged against its wooden surface with a rain soaked knuckle.

  The woman tilted her head to listen to the unwelcoming mumbling voices inside. Silence fell and no one came to the door, so she knocked again. More voices, a child talking and eventually footsteps. Finally the door opened a little. A thin-faced young woman looked through the crack.

  ‘Hello, Nell,’ said Jenna, letting her shawl drop onto her shoulders to expose her face.

  ‘Tell them you don’t know where he is!’ shouted an older woman who remained hidden from view.

  ‘It’s true. I cannot help you or him,’ Nell said, attempting to shut the door again. Jenna blocked it with her foot.

  ‘I have not come to ask anything of you, Nell.’

  The door opened a little to expose her narrow face again.

  ‘I won’t go back to him.’

  ‘I have not come to ask you to return to him.’

  Nell frowned. ‘Then why are you here?’

  ‘I have grave news to tell you.’

  Nell rested her head against the door. ‘Is it about Silas?’ she asked reluctantly. Jenna nodded solemnly. ‘Then you better come in.’

  Nell opened the door and stepped aside, revealing the dark and cluttered interior. Her mother sat in the far corner, surrounded by laundry in various states of wash. Jenna recognised her instantly, although she had only met her once. Despite Jenna’s polite greeting, the older woman refused to look at her, grunting in reply as she continued to sort the neighbours’ washing.

  A warmer greeting came from Silas’s two children, Talek and Grace, who raced towards her with outstretched arms screaming her name. Jenna fell to her knees and cradled them against her, tightly encasing their small waists with each of her arms. She inhaled deeply into their hair to savour the smell of them. It had been too long since she last saw them and enjoyed their joy filled hugs.

  ‘I have missed seeing you both. It has been far too long.’ She held them at arm’s length to look them over. ‘You have both grown so tall! Talek, you are going to be as tall as your father when you grow up.’ She looked at Grace, her image blurring before her eyes. ‘And your smile is as cheeky as his, too.’

  Nell noticed Jenna’s trembling lips and took the children from her.

  ‘Mother, take Talek and Grace next door to see Meg. I’m sure she will be glad to see them. Jenna has some news of Silas and I think it’s best if we are left alone.’

  Nell’s mother began to grumble loudly again as she heaved herself to standing and fetched a coat and cloak for her grandchildren.

  ‘Don’t go back to that man, Nell,’ she warned her daughter. ‘He is no good for you.’ She looked angrily at Jenna. ‘And don’t you go and try to talk her round.’ Without saying anything more, Nell’s mother ushered the children out of the door and into the rain. Needing no further direction from their grandmother, the children ran ahead to the house next door, eager to see their friend. Nell’s mother gave Jenna a sidelong glance, before following them out into the dark.

  The room fell silent. Nell turned to look at her sister-in-law.

  ‘You looked like you were about to cry. I have never seen you cry before.’

  ‘I have cried a river these past few days,’ said Jenna, arranging her shawl on a chair by the fire to dry.

  ‘Is he dead?’

  Unable to speak, Jenna resorted to a slight nod of the head. The movement caused the colour to drain from Nell’s face. She looked blankly at the floor as her mind absorbed what Jenna was telling her. The fire crackled between them and mocked them in their silence, before Nell broke it by stiffly walking to her mother’s vacant chair. She held it for support, her knuckles pinching white, before carefully lowering herself down upon it as if her bones ached with age.

  She took a deep breath and rolled up her sleeves. ‘I knew he would not live to be an old man,’ said Nell calmly as she neatened the fold of her sleeves. ‘It was not his way to lead a peaceful life.’ She picked up a shirt from the tub of water and began to scrub the cloth together. ‘How did he die?’ she asked bravely. She did not fool Jenna. The news was a shock and Jenna must tread softly with the details, yet she could not lie.

  ‘He died from a beating, Nell,’ Jenna said quietly. ‘I’m so sorry.’

  ‘Revenge?’ Jenna nodded again. ‘I am not surprised. What was it about? No, don’t tell me. It is better that I do not know the details. It is best I keep my distance.’ Her scrubbing became more vigorous. ‘I knew the fool was up to something.’ She gave a curt laugh to herself. ‘He was always up to something. Did you know he visited me a week ago? Dressed like a dandy and showing off his money. He wanted me to go back to him. I said no and then he left.’ Water sloshed over the side, but she ignored it. ‘Give him his due; he did give me some money to buy Talek and Grace something.’

  ‘I noticed their coat and cloak looked new.’

  ‘What good is a new coat when their father lies cold in the ground? Better they had a father who took care of them than a man who chose trouble over them.’ Angrily she slammed the shirt back into the tub making more water slosh over the side. She reached for another. ‘You think me a hard woman.’

  ‘No,’ Jenna replied, coming over to crouch beside her. She placed her hand on Nell’s, just as Jack used to do with her. Nell’s hands stilled beneath hers, but she could still feel them trembling. ‘It is all right to feel angry towards Silas. I am angry with him, too.’

  ‘A sister can feel anger towards her brother, but a wife should not leave her husband. I know that is what you are thinking, but I could not bring up our children fearing who may knock on our door. It is no way to live.’

  ‘No, it is no way to live.’

  Their eyes met. ‘You do not blame me?’

  ‘Of course, I do not. I came here to tell you about Silas, not to lay fault at your door.’

  ‘I thought you were angry with me and sided with Silas. You have not visited since I moved in with my parents.’

  Jenna took her hand away and fetched a chair so she could sit next to Nell.

  ‘I thought you were in the prison with Silas. Now I feel foolish for believing Silas’s tale. He wanted me to help pay his creditors and knew that I was more likely to help him if I knew Talek and Grace were there with him.’

  ‘I thought he kept his tales for me.’

  Jenna rolled up her sleeves. ‘Silas had enough tales for everyone he met.’ Together, the women reached into the water and began to scrub the shirts.

  ‘Mother and I take in washing. Father does the odd job as a labourer but there is not much money coming in. I don’t know how we are going to pay for a funeral.’

  ‘I have spoken to the vicar of Lanros. He has a poor hole due to be covered this week. There is room for one more and he is willing to take Silas’s coffin.’

  ‘Did Silas have much money left?’

  ‘The landlord of Lanros Inn took most of it to cover his boarding bills and for keeping his body until burial. There were a few coins left, just enough to buy a cheap coffin, but not enough for a service. Silas was not a God-fearing man so I do not think he will mind. The vicar is willing to say a few words over his grave for us.’ They both squeezed out the water from the shirts and placed them in another tub full of washed clothing.

  ‘That is kind of him,’ said Nell, drying her hands and passing the cloth to Jenna.

  ‘The funeral will be at noon tomorrow if you are in agreement.’ Jenna dried her hands. ‘Will you bring the children?’

  Nell got up and pushed away a stray hair with her hand. ‘I don’t think I will go,’ she said, trying to look busy sorting through more clothes in a basket. ‘I left him. It would look odd if I played the grieving widow now.’

  ‘Y
ou loved him once. You are his wife and the mother of his children. Besides, if you do not go, there will be no one in attendance.’

  Nell looked up, surprised. ‘You do not intend going?’

  Jenna joined her and began to fold some clothes. ‘I am too angry with Silas,’ she confided. ‘Silas told me a falsehood about a man I loved and I believed him. In revenge I almost betrayed Jack and in doing so probably ruined any chance of a future with him.’ Jenna paused in her folding. ‘I find it hard to understand why Silas would do such a thing. I thought he cared for me.’

  ‘He did care about you. I often thought he cared more for you than me. He loved you. Perhaps he felt this man was not right for you. I know he carried a lot of guilt about how Henry treated you. The day he discovered the truth of it, he came home and sobbed like a child. He felt he let you down and that he should have known earlier. He thought you were going to die that night.’

  Silas had cried? Silas never cried. Jenna felt her heart begin to ache with all the sadness that filled it as she laid a neatly folded shirt aside and picked up another.

  ‘I thought I was going to die, too. I even prayed that I would.’ Seeing Nell’s expression, Jenna added, ‘I could see no end to it, Nell. I was too scared to leave.’

  ‘It was a terrible time for us all,’ her sister-in-law agreed. ‘I am glad Silas put a stop to him.’

  ‘You knew that Silas arranged for Henry to be caught?’ asked Jenna, wide-eyed.

  ‘Knew?’ said Nell, folding the clothes with renewed vigour. ‘It was my idea.’ She gave Jenna a sidelong glance. ‘Don’t look at me like that. Henry broke the law as many times as Silas did. It was Henry’s idea to go out poaching that night. It was only a matter of time before he was caught. I’m just glad it was before he killed you.’

  Jenna was about to reply when they heard her mother’s voice outside.

  ‘Mother is coming,’ Nell whispered abandoning the clothes. ‘That is all I need right now. She will spend the rest of the evening rejoicing when she hears about Silas’s death. I don’t have the strength to face her right now.’ She showed Jenna the back door. ‘Go out this way,’ she urged, ‘and I will take myself up to my room. You see,’ she said, her eyes misting slightly, ‘I am not as hard as I pretend to be. I knew this day would come and I thought I would feel nothing. I was wrong, and feel grief for his passing more than I care to admit. I can moan to you about him, but I could not bear hearing my mother gloating just now.’