"When do you think they made the trade?" Lady Cavanaugh whispered behind him.
He turned briefly and belatedly realized she was without coat in her ridiculous garb of bar wench. She must be freezing, and he started to remove his own coat. She smacked his hand.
"Do not get chivalrous on me now, Yankee. We have a mission to complete. We need to know who those men gave Sarah and Alec to, and we need to know now. Start walking."
She poked him in the back, and he did as she demanded.
"How far are we to follow them?" Thatcher asked, his path through the crowds carefully selected to avoid detection.
Lady Cavanaugh followed beside him, her own step calculated, and Thatcher made note to compliment her on it later.
"Until the very end, I'm afraid," she said.
"What if they board a ship?" he asked.
"Then we board it with them."
Thatcher stopped and turned to her.
"We could end up on the Continent if we follow them on board a ship."
Lady Cavanaugh stopped as well.
"Then we pretend we're an Italian lord and lady until we can be rescued. The War Office wants to know what allegiance these men have."
Thatcher turned and began following the men again, wondering what an Italian lord was like.
~
Also unbeknownst to our hero and heroine in the port of Dover
Also at the same moment
Nathan grabbed the back of his wife's coat before she could move out of arm's reach. He snapped her back toward him.
"Where do you think you're going?" he muttered in her ear.
Nora's eyes flashed in the dim light of the alley, barely visible underneath the floppy hat he'd stuck on her head to hide her identity.
"I'm going to save my family if it's all the same to you," she whispered, her tone firm but not accusing.
Nathan grinned.
"And are you going to do that all by yourself, my lady?"
Nora grinned back, her white teeth flashing in the darkness.
"If you continue to be so slow, perhaps, I shall, my lord."
Nathan stopped grinning and started pulling on his wife's arm as they made their way through the rest of the alley.
They came out of the small space just yards from the docks. They were on the backside of the thoroughfare, and Nathan could hear the boisterous voices of dockhands and sailors looking for a place to lay their head that night along with a woman as company. This part of the port was seedy at best and repugnant at worst. He felt a twinge of guilt for bringing his new wife here in the middle of a cold spring night, but she had insisted. And if there was one thing Nathan was learning, it was to never tell Nora no if she said she was going to do something. No matter what that something entailed.
"Do you think they're still in port?" Nora whispered.
Nathan shook his head, the cold air sweeping in from off the water, sending a chill along his neck and down his greatcoat. He pulled Nora closer.
"Thatcher has firm intelligence that they were already traded over to the French. They are now following the men who traded him. We need to see if this was a one time event or if they are going to take more Englishmen."
Nora turned to him.
"They?"
Nathan looked down at her, pausing for a moment to admire the shape of her face in the glow of moon.
"Lady Cavanaugh. I'm not sure you've had the pleasure of meeting her."
Nora's head tilted.
"I cannot say I have. She sounds lovely though," she finished and turned back toward the thoroughfare with its constant stream of rowdy seamen.
Nathan waited patiently even as the cold air began to rattle his teeth. He looked out to the water, at the outlines of ships bobbing in the quiet ocean and saw the clouds in the distance moving closer. Soon they would lose the moonlight. The water in the port already kicked up fierce waves, and the port was filled with the sound of ships hitting against piers and each other. But the sailors in port took no heed. The ships were safely anchored for the night. They had more interesting pursuits to tend to.
"It's that one there," Nathan said, pointing discreetly to a dock nearly ten yards down the wharf from their hiding spot.
He could not be sure if Nora looked where he pointed or simply took his word for it.
"That is where they will meet us?" she asked.
"That is where the ship is docked. The one we are going to use to find Alec and Sarah."
Nora turned her face up to him.
"And we are certain they are still in the port. They must have been traded quite some time ago. Would they not have gotten underway for France? It seems dangerous to linger."
Nathan now pointed to the clouds he had spotted earlier, dark masses encroaching on the pale moonlight.
"Storm is moving in. They'll not risk their precious cargo for a mere storm."
"Not even in the Channel? It's not as if they'll be moving in the open ocean."
Nathan shrugged.
"The Channel can be equally as dangerous as open sea."
Nora nodded.
"I've never been on a ship, so I must take your word for it, Mr. Black."
Nathan waited a moment more and then carefully gripped Nora's elbow before slipping into the stream of people moving along the thoroughfare.
The smell grew worse once they were inside the throng of seamen, and Nathan felt his throat constrict. They reached the dock in question and turned off, slipping out of the crowd of people just as easily as they had slipped in. They made their way carefully along the dock, dodging crates and coils of rope and the odd drunken sailor, perched precariously against both. The wind grew sharper as they moved further along the dock, and Nathan kept his grip firm on Nora's elbow. They had nearly reached the end of the pier, when the last ship on the dock came into view, looming out of the darkness like a sudden beacon. Nathan slowly stopped, putting his back to the stack of crates resting four feet from the ship. He looked up at the vessel, noting its worn wood and wind scarred mast poles. It wasn't a big ship, but it would do for their purposes.
Nora pressed against him, and his grip on her tightened.
"Is this it then?"
He nodded.
"And how is it that you know the captain of this ship?"
"He saved me bloody life even if he did not save me blinkin' leg."
Nathan felt Nora jump, startled, but the gravelly voice and its owner were nothing that frightened Nathan.
"Reginald Davis," Nathan said, stepping forward as the man came off the gangplank of the ship before them.
The man looked no different from the last time Nathan had seen him except for the wooden peg he stood on. He was still tall and broad shouldered with a barrel chest and beefy hands. He looked as if he should be shoveling dung from a stable rather than captaining a ship, but this was where the War Office had reassigned him after his injury. And Nathan suspected it was the perfect outfit for his fellow soldier.
"Sorry again about the leg, old chap," Nathan said then, extending a hand to his comrade, "But it's better your leg than your life."
Nora looked between them.
"I believe I am not familiar with this tale."
Davis approached Nora then, bowing over her extended hand.
"Tis a pleasure to meet the honorable Mrs. Black. But allow me one question. Why the bloody 'ell did you marry this whelp when you could have had someone as charming as meself?"
Nathan saw Nora blush in the moonlight and stepped closer to remove his wife from Davis's grip.
"Because she has common sense," Nathan said, and Davis laughed.
"Shall we be aboard then, chaps?" he said, turning back to the gangplank.
It was then that Nathan noticed the ship had come alive with sailors moving along the ropes and up into the masts. It vibrated with the energy of preparing to set sail.
Davis was well ahead of them when they began their way up the plank.
"How is it that you know him?" Nora whisp
ered.
"He was in my regiment on the Continent."
"Your regiment? But how did he get into a regiment with noblemen's sons?"
Nathan grinned.
"Who said he's not a nobleman's son?"
Nora looked straight ahead at Davis, her jaw hanging slack.
Nathan called up the gangplank.
"What is it you have in mind for our rescue mission, Captain?"
Davis turned at the top of the plank, the moonlight hitting him full in the back and silhouetting his impressive person in an ethereal light.
"How do ye feel about pirates, Nathan?"
CHAPTER SEVEN
On a ship bound for France
April 1815
The harsh sound of the lock of the door grating against its metal sheath as it was withdrawn ripped apart the peace of the tiny berth that was their prison.
Alec went from blissfully lost in his wife's sleepy embrace to alert and ready. He rolled Sarah across him, jackknifing off the bed in one fluid movement. Sarah moved behind him as he stood up to get between her and whatever was coming in the door. Harpoon Man stuck his head inside.
"Captain wishes you to see," the man said in stilted English.
Alec nodded as he felt Sarah's small hand press into his back. He reached behind him and took her hand in his.
Harpoon Man shook his head.
"No woman. Just you."
Alec shook his head, too.
"I'm not going anywhere without my wife."
Sarah pressed against his back now, and he gripped her hand tighter in reassurance.
"Une moment, si vous plait," Harpoon Man said and shut the door.
Alec turned, and Sarah came into his arms, resting her head on his chest.
"What do you think he wants?" Sarah whispered, her voice even softer than it had been before Harpoon Man had been so ungracious as to interrupt them.
"I don't know," Alec whispered just as softly, rubbing his cheek against her hair. His fingers found the buttons he had undone what felt like hours ago and quickly refastened them. He was not going to let those French bastards see an inch of his wife's glorious, pale skin.
They were silent then, just standing there, holding onto each other. The ship rocked gently, and the sound of water sloshing against the sides mingled with the sound of the lantern swinging on its peg. Sarah was tense against him, but he thought it was more because of the situation than any of the many problems between them, problems they had only begun to solve. He kept his arms solidly around her, not moving his hands in any attempt to soothe her. He needed soothing right now and holding onto Sarah was soothing.
"Alec?"
Alec closed his eyes, not wanting to fight with his wife any longer just then, praying that the truce they had reached earlier still stood.
"Yes?"
"Why didn't you kill him? The Earl of Wheaton. Why didn't you kill him?"
It took a moment for Alec to recall what she was talking about, but when he realized she spoke of his ill-fated duel, Alec's stomach somersaulted. He didn't know if he even had the energy to continue that particular conversation let alone the desire. But she should know why he hadn't killed Wheaton.
"I didn't want to," he said.
She eased away from him, and he looked down at her inquisitive expression. She didn't say anything, but then she didn't have to. Alec felt guilty enough to elaborate.
"I thought you might not approve if I killed him, so I refrained."
"You refrained because you were concerned about what I might think on the matter?"
Her voice was gaining back some of its strength, and Alec knew the contented mood of the moment was slipping away, the truce was crumbling. So Alec just nodded, keeping his eyes steady on her face.
And then Sarah bit her lower lip.
Alec's heart stopped momentarily. Sarah had never bit her lip. Sarah had never done anything that may have indicated that she was unsure where to step, and now her rigid exterior suddenly evaporated when Alec least expected. And that left Alec without a clue as to how to respond. He had spent four years learning how to read his wife, learning what to do and not do, and now in the space of a few hours, she unraveled everything he knew. Everything he felt certain about his relationship with her. Abut what he meant to her.
Thankfully, Sarah responded first.
"What I think matters that much?" she said, whispering once again and avoiding his eyes.
Alec grabbed her chin, but Sarah's eyes still looked at everything but him.
"Sarah," he said, but she still wouldn't look at him.
The sound of the lock moving again severed the tenuous connection between them, and Alec spun around, putting Sarah safely behind him. This time the door came fully open, and Alec had to shuffle Sarah back so the door didn't hit them. The captain's perfectly coifed head of blond hair appeared around the doorframe.
"Is there a problem, monsieur?" he asked.
Alec felt Sarah tremble against his back.
"I'm not leaving my wife alone."
The captain nodded and moved further into the doorway.
"I understand your position, but I must insist that you join me in my quarters. Alone, monsieur."
"Why?" Alec asked, reaching behind him to grab Sarah's hand as she shivered again.
"There are certain delicate matters we must discuss."
"The countess can join us. I assure you, Captain, women do not have the mental capacity to handle delicate matters. She will be quiet as she should be, and we can discuss whatever needs to be discussed."
Sarah poked him in the back, so he poked her in the stomach. Her soft Ow almost had him grinning.
"I still must insist, monsieur. These are state affairs that I can only discuss with you."
Alec saw Harpoon Man shift against the far wall of the passage as Sarah grabbed a handful of his coat, latching herself to him.
"Then I'm afraid we are at an impasse, Captain. I will not leave my wife."
"Perhaps you can be persuaded," Teyssier said, turning and disappearing down the passage.
Alec waited, unsure of what the captain was going to do. One of Sarah's arms came around him as the other hooked around his shoulder. He felt her drag her body up, so she could see over his shoulder.
"Where did he go?" she whispered, which actually sounded very loud as her mouth was so close to his ear.
"I don't know," Alec said, distracted by the warmth of her breath against his neck.
"Don't leave me, Alec."
"I won't," he said, irritated that she would even say that. He had left once. Just once. He did not have a chronic problem with remaining immobile.
Sarah didn't move but stayed attached to his back, her arms holding her up so that she was pressed as firmly as possible against him. Alec could have summoned the energy to ignore the fact that he liked his wife hanging onto him so tightly, as if seeking safety, but he didn't feel like ignoring it. Sarah had never held onto him when she needed strength. She had never had to. This was a pleasant change of circumstances that he was not going to dismiss.
Were things actually changing between them? Was he finally getting through to her?
But the captain returned before Alec could truly enjoy the moment. Teyssier marched through the door, stopping mere inches from Alec, forcing Alec to recoil from the stench that emanated from the captain. Sarah never let go of him and backed up with him. Teyssier extended his hand, a very distinct hat held between two fingers.
"I believe this will persuade you."
The captain smiled as a cold shiver ran down Alec's smile. He waited a breath, but Sarah did not react as he had expected her to, giving nothing away. It was the first time Alec had seen the captain smile since boarding the ship. Reluctantly and with great trepidation, Alec reached up and took the hat, flipping it over in his hands.
The last time he had seen that hat it had been atop Thatcher's head.
Alec's stomach dropped to his toes, and his throat closed. Sarah moved against
him, but she made no noise. Alec's heart beat so loudly he was sure everyone in the room could hear it. He needed to form a reaction, form a response. But before Alec could react, Sarah shoved him out of the way, which wasn't very far as he ran into the wall. She squeezed around him though, snatching the hat out of his hand.
"Ou est l'homme?" she said, waving the hat in the captain's face.
The startled captain responded in English. "I do not know, madame. I will speak with your husband now."
The captain made his way towards the door as Sarah followed. Alec grabbed the back of her dress and dragged her back.
"I shall speak with you now, Captain," Alec said, tightening his hold on Sarah's dress when she opened her mouth to object. He pulled the fabric so tightly the protest turned into an undignified squeak.
"I thought you would," the captain said having reached the door. "You must accompany me to my quarters. Alone."
"I'll need a moment with my wife. Alone," he added harshly.
"Bon," the captain said and gestured to Harpoon Man.
Harpoon Man stepped forward and closed the door, but the lock was not slid into place.
As soon as the door was shut, Sarah rounded on him, but Alec hauled her up and kissed her before anything came out of her mouth. She pushed against his shoulders, but he wasn't letting go. He kissed her hard, forcing her lips open to make her an active partner in this kiss. She was not going to disappear into herself now. He pressed her against the wall, battling with her skirts to grab her thighs so he could pull her legs up around his waist. She obliged him, wrapping her legs tightly around him, holding her up while his hand worked on the fastenings of his trousers.
"Alec," she said, encompassing in his name everything she wanted to ask.
"I'm not going to leave you, Sarah," he said against her neck, "I am never going to leave."
He drove into her and covered her mouth with his to capture the moan that instantly rose to her lips upon his penetration. He filled her entirely with full, strong strokes, attempting to make her believe him by connecting with her in the most basic way possible.
For Love of the Earl Page 10
