The Thief's Daughter
Page 28
‘They have. And the bodies of the Blake brothers.’
Jenna shivered in his arms.
Jack released her and looked at her intently. ‘And you? Are you well?’
‘Better now that you are home again. Enoch thought you were dead,’ she added lamely.
Jack’s horse snorted beside them, demanding attention. He took the reins and held them leisurely in his hand. They retraced her steps along the water’s edge.
‘I did not know that until this morning. I told Enoch I planned to return on the Fortitude as it made regular crossings across the Channel. I did not give a date and was unaware that it had sunk. I did not know that he thought I was on board.’
She glanced at him and found he was watching her. She wanted to still be in his embrace. She had waited long enough for it.
Instead she said, ‘Your death weighed heavy on him.’
‘So I have learned. And you?’ he asked, his face serious.
‘What do you think?’ she grumbled. ‘You delayed coming home. How were your travels? England must seem rather dull compared to the sights you have seen.’
‘You are upset with me.’
She stared at the wet sand in her path, wary about how much to say.
‘I was distraught when he told me he thought you would not be returning. I still feel it now.’
‘You were very brave at the cottage.’
She did not want his praise. ‘It is easier to be brave when you feel you have nothing left. I believed I would never see you again.’
‘I did plan to leave earlier but I met someone at the port and it delayed my parting.’
Jenna’s steps slowed. So he had met a Frenchwoman, she thought. He was back, but suddenly it felt as if he were still on the other side of the water.
She dared not look at him. ‘This “someone”, do you plan to bring them to England?’
‘I think they would prefer to stay in France.’
‘Do you plan to go back there to be with her?’
‘The person I met was a man, not a woman.’
Jenna stopped again and looked at him. He looked amused. She, on the other hand, was not.
‘Who was so important that they stopped you from coming home?’
‘Your brother, Jenna. I found your brother.’
Jenna felt her world tilt. ‘You found Mark?’ she asked in astonishment.
‘Yes. There was a man called Cartwright working in Calais. I was on board and about to leave, but disembarked to talk to him. At first he was wary of my interest but when I mentioned you he invited me to his home. He told me he worked on an English ship for many years, but met a girl whilst in a French port and never returned to sea. He is married, with three children. He is happy, Jenna, and he is well. He wanted me to tell you that he has often thought of you.’
Mark is alive and he is well.
Jenna found herself smiling. ‘I am an aunt again.’
‘An aunt to two boys and a girl.’
Jenna’s voice almost broke with joy. ‘Two boys and a girl,’ she echoed. ‘You delayed your parting to bring me this news?’
Jack nodded and smiled.
It was a kind thing for him to do and her hopes rose a little.
‘Thank you,’ she said as she began walking again. This time her steps felt a little lighter. ‘What now, Jack? What are your plans?’ She had to ask this. His future was her future.
‘My work here is done. We have enough evidence to convict Buller and the Blake brothers’ hold is broken. I have no reason to stay now.’
Jenna’s heart sank. He had said it. He was leaving.
‘When will you leave?’
‘Soon, I hope.’
‘Where will you go?’
‘I’m going back to Zennor. I no longer have the heart to be a thief-taker. When I started I wanted to bring an end to the free traders, but at the moment it is an impossible task. Laws need to change and I am not a man who wants to spend his life in politics.’ Jack looked at her. ‘I know now that I want to settle. Enoch wanted me to go to France and Italy, and asked me to name my price, so I did.’
‘What was your price?’
‘A house and enough land to support it near Zennor.’
She tilted her chin and smiled bravely. ‘You will be in need of a housekeeper.’
‘I will not.’
Jenna turned away to look out to sea so he could not see the tears welling up in her eyes. She knew it might come to this, but his decisive answer still surprised her.
‘Do you want to know why?’ asked Jack, stepping in front of her.
‘Why?’ she asked reluctantly, refusing to look at him.
He lifted a stray lock of her hair. ‘I have plans to get me a wife,’ he said, watching it curl around his fingers.
‘A wife?’ whispered Jenna as he stepped closer. She dared to look at him. The corner of his lips curved into a gentle smile. She felt something pool and melt deep inside her as she watched his mouth form the word, ‘Yes.’
The incoming tide rolled over her feet, but she did not care.
‘Do you have someone in mind?’ she asked breathlessly.
‘Yes,’ he replied, releasing her hair. ‘Would you like me to tell you about her?’
Jenna slowly nodded and closed her eyes. His husky voice was filling her thoughts as he gently traced the curve of her cheek with his touch.
‘She has big doe-like eyes the colour of rosewood,’ he mused quietly. Jenna opened her eyes to find him gazing at her mouth. ‘And she has a gentle smile which makes me feel ten feet tall when I am the one responsible for putting it there.’ His fingers traced a path down her neck to her breast. Jenna shivered with the thrill of his touch. ‘She has a courageous, kind heart which I want no other man to claim.’
Drunk on his words, Jenna swayed towards him. She felt his embrace wrap around her. He pressed a kiss on the top of her head. ‘And she has a sharp wit,’ he breathed into her hair, ‘and she is trusting …’ He tilted her chin so she would look at him. ‘Although she needs to learn to trust me a little more than she does.’
‘What is this woman called?’ asked Jenna as he began to kiss the curve of her neck. ‘I don’t know if you are asking me to marry you, or just being cruel,’ said Jenna, smiling.
‘If you think I am being cruel,’ he murmured between kisses, ‘then I assume that means you might like the idea of being my wife.’
She tilted her head to expose the other side of her neck to him. ‘Are you sure it is what you want? I believed Silas over you.’
Jack moved to her lips to kiss away her last remark and then cupped her face in his hands to look at her. ‘How can I not forgive a woman who is willing to have her hand chopped off for me? Although I had already forgiven you before the ship had even set sail for France. I am not a man who can speak words of love easily, but it does not mean I do not feel the emotion deeply. I love you, Jenna. And although I tried to resist falling in love with you, I failed miserably very soon after meeting you.’
‘You have spoken words of love very well.’
‘You have brought them out of me. Will you be my wife? You have not answered me yet. Should I be concerned?’
Jenna smiled. How could this handsome, good man ever doubt she would accept? ‘I was once warned that if I did not mind my ways a thief-taker would come to get me. I did not know then that I would want to go willingly. Yes, Jack, I want nothing more than to be your wife.’
He took both her hands in his. They stood for a moment, their fingers caressing, the horse forgotten by their side. Another wave rolled in and soaked their feet making them laugh.
‘Come, your feet are wet,’ said Jack. ‘You will catch a chill.’
He brought his horse closer and stooped, cradling his hands so she could place her foot in them to mount. Jenna lifted her hem and placed her foot in the makeshift stirrup. They looked at each other and smiled, an unspoken memory passing between them of the time they had first met. Moments later, he was sitting
behind her on the horse with his arm about her waist. He held her close and caressed her cheek with his own.
‘I love you, Jenna,’ he whispered against the corner of her lips. ‘I have missed you these past months.’
Jenna leant against him, letting her head fall back onto his shoulder. ‘I have missed you, Jack. You will never know how much I love you. It is too deep and too powerful to put into words.’
His eyes darkened. ‘Perhaps you can show me tonight, for tomorrow we will leave for Zennor.’
‘Zennor,’ Jenna murmured, enjoying the sound of the place they would make their home together. ‘What is it like there?’
‘It is south-west from here. It is small and beautiful, although isolated.’
Jenna’s smile broadened. ‘Isolation is good,’ she said quietly, enjoying his warmth about her.
Jack kissed her hair again and held her tight.
‘When did you realise you had failed to resist me?’ asked Jenna, warm with happiness and content to bask in the moment.
Jack did not answer straight away, as their bodies swayed together in tune with the horse beneath them. Eventually his soft husky tone voiced his thoughts. ‘When you first smiled at me from the top of the wall. I thought then we were two sides of the same soul. Now I know it to be true. Let us go home. I have a burning need to have you.’
‘And I you.’
‘I am glad. We have been apart for far too long.’
* The End *
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Author’s Note
English smuggling in the 18th century
As a result of ever increasing punitive taxation on luxury goods, the archaic collection system of taxes and successive costly wars, opportunists in southern England expanded their smuggling activities to almost industrial proportions. During the 17th and 18th centuries, smuggling of highly taxed items became part of everyday life and at one period the amount of tea, tobacco, silks, spices and spirits smuggled into the southern counties of England exceeded the amount brought in through legitimate routes. Cornwall was an ideal county for the trade, as its coastline, which stretches for more than 400 miles, provided ideal coves and beaches to land the contraband.
At the age of 21, William Pitt, the younger, became an MP. At the age of 24, he became the youngest Prime Minister in British history. Acting on a committee’s recommendations, Pitt reduced the high duties that encouraged smuggling and simplified the customs and excise duties. It was the start of the decline in smuggling, but it would not be until after the Napoleonic wars were over, and a more effective coastal prevention service was in place, that smuggling became less viable and declined further. The heyday of smuggling silks, tea, tobacco and spirits was over by 1840, and although smuggling continues to this day, the clandestine trade, which in the past involved large numbers of the local community, was never the same again.
Thank you note from the author next...
Thank you
Thank you for reading The Thief’s Daughter. I feel honoured that you chose to read it when there are so many other books available to you. I really hope you enjoyed following Jenna and Jack’s journey, the challenges they faced and the love that blossomed between them.
Two years ago, while walking the coastal path, I came across Pepper Cove. Its peculiar name came from the smuggled spices brought into Cornwall under the cover of darkness. The narrow, rocky inlet became the inspiration for this novel.
It has taken over two years, from conception to publication, for The Thief’s Daughter to be out in the big wide world. From being its creator and caretaker, it is now out of my control and I must admit it feels similar to the day I sent my children to school for the first time. Familiar anxieties have resurfaced. Will it be accepted? Will it be liked? So it is always wonderful to receive feedback from the people the novel was created for.
However, a reader’s feedback has so much more value than soothing my neurotic anxieties. Readers’ positive comments and recommendations, or lack of them, will help determine the success or failure of a novel by influencing how the fiction distributors promote a book and what other readers choose to purchase. Decisions to publish more novels by the same author will be based on past successes or failures.
With this in mind, if you enjoyed The Thief’s Daughter, I would be so grateful if you could take a moment to write a review on any, or all, of the following websites: Apple iBooks, Kobo or Goodreads. A review can be as short as two words or much longer if you are so inclined.
The present and future readers of The Thief’s Daughter are its new custodians as your opinion really does matter.
Thank you again for taking the time to read it. I do hope you enjoyed the story, because I enjoyed writing it for you to read.
Love,
Victoria Cornwall
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About the Author
Victoria Cornwall grew up on a dairy farm in Cornwall. As a child, she had a dog, an albino rabbit and a disabled hen as her pets. Add an adopted lamb and fifty yellow, fluffy chicks which arrived at the farm each year and you have an idea of her childhood. Victoria can trace her Cornish roots as far back as the 18th century and it is this background and heritage which is the inspiration for her Cornish based novels.
Victoria is married and has two grown up children. She likes to read and write historical fiction with a strong background story, but at its heart is the unmistakable emotion, even pain, of loving someone.
Following a fulfilling twenty-five year career as a nurse, a change in profession finally allowed her the time to write. She is a member of the Romantic Novelists’ Association and the Historical Novel Society.
The Thief’s Daughter is her debut novel and the first in her series of Cornish based novels. A preview of the second book in the series, The Captain’s Daughter follows.
Follow Victoria on:
www.victoriacornwall.com
www.twitter.com/VickieCornwall
www.facebook.com/victoria.cornwall.75
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The Captain’s Daughter
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There, Janey lives a lonely existence caring for Lady Brockenshaw who is blind, whilst being shunned by the other serving staff. But then Janey catches the attention of two men – James Brockenshaw and Daniel Kellow.
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