Conquered by the Ghost (The Conquered Book 3)

by Pippa Greathouse

  He caught sight of Purr just as he reached the door and turned to look back. The suspicious look on the cat’s face had decreased somewhat and grown slightly less perturbed.

  “Satisfied?” he muttered.

  The cat curled up next to Chloe and watched him with one eye for a long time before finally closing it. A moment later, however, she opened it again.

  He rolled his eyes and shook his head. It suddenly occurred to him, however, that the animal might be hungry. Or—God forbid, need a trip outside. He opened it up a bit more.

  “Go down to the kitchen if you’re hungry. Your nose will guide you. Smiley will feed you and let you out if you need to relieve yourself.”

  Purr answered by flicking back one ear in response but refused to move.

  Chapter 5

  The search for Chloe…

  Gregory had rushed down the plank, taking Arabella by the waist to get her to safety as she stood, screaming Chloe’s name over and over. He ran after the coach as fast as he could, but it was gone, and so was his own carriage. He slowed, finally, and watched as it disappeared. After calming his wife down, he’d sent word to Darby, who, hopefully, would appear within hours from Glossyp. If the commander agreed to captain the ship on this journey, Gregory could search for Chloe. After all, she was like a member of the family to him and he felt responsible for her safety. Arabella, furious that someone had been able to snatch Chloe off the street, was determined to assist in finding her.

  “Look, my love,” he said, taking her aside and standing her in front of him. “You will not, under any circumstances, be allowed to visit some of the places I’ll need to go, and you can’t roam the streets with me. You do realize that.”

  When her shoulders stooped, he conceded, somewhat. “But I do need your help.”

  Her eyes brightened and he continued. “Now. You have an excellent mind, and I’ll need you to keep meticulous records for me.”

  Bella raised up on tiptoe and kissed him. “Tell me what to do, Gregory.”

  “Right now, I want you to go up on deck and find paper and pencil. Sarah has some, since Chloe taught her to read and write. Then come back to the deck. I’m going to spend some time interviewing witnesses this afternoon, right here. After I see each one, I’ll come back up to you and share what I’ve learned.”

  Bella stared at her husband. “Can’t I just go down with you and write it down as you speak to them? It would be so much—”

  “Arabella? Do you want to do this or not?”

  She sighed. “Yes, sir.”

  “Good girl. After we see the witnesses today, we’ll go back to the hotel, and I want to have a meeting with you. You’ll be the one who pours over the information, even more than I. I’ll depend on you to put it all together for me.”

  Gregory announced he would pay a reward for the information he received to everyone who actually saw the kidnapping, and people off the street began to come forward.

  There was only one gentleman who hung back. After everyone else had spoken and given their information, he finally approached.

  “Pardon me,” he said softly, looking over his shoulder.

  “Yes?” Gregory paused, eyeing him intently.

  “I…am hesitant to tell you this. I did see the two men who came on foot from the other side of the warehouse. I don’t know if it was my imagination, but it looked to me as if they carried daggers. But I saw one more person come out of the shadows. From this side.”

  “Can you describe him?” Gregory’s interest was piqued.

  “Tall. Taller than you. Broad-shouldered. Dark hair and eyes.”

  Gregory cocked his head to one side. “Go on?”

  “I couldn’t see his face, this time. And he moved extremely fast. But I’ve heard he had scars down his face.” He frowned. “That’s all I can tell you. All I know.”

  “And the drivers on the coach?”

  “Two of them. One very large man. One with a wooden leg.”

  “And the man who reached out of the coach?”

  The gentleman looked at him. “He didn’t.”

  Gregory stared at him. “What do you mean, he didn’t?”

  “He ran across to get on the dock side of the coach. He grabbed her from the ground and put her inside.”

  “Why did no one else tell me this?” Gregory demanded.

  The man stared at him, as if he’d said too much. “I don’t know.”

  Gregory nodded. “I see. Thank you, sir.”

  “There’s one more thing.”

  Gregory turned back, making sure the crowd had evaporated. “Yes?”

  Pulling his hat down over his head, he nodded toward the captain. “You need to check the pubs in Ainsley. Ask about ‘The Ghost’.”

  It was late in the afternoon when Darby arrived, and Gregory called a meeting with the crew. He came away pleased; the meeting was short, and he knew they would all serve Darby as well as they had him. Even the highly distraught Sarah, he had persuaded to make the journey. He’d managed to assure her they would find her little Chloe. Darby followed him back up on deck.

  “Take my coach and deliver it to Glossyp when you get the chance. And don’t worry. We’ll be fine on the voyage. Lillianna may never speak to me again because I didn’t bring her, but so be it. Jillian has some growing to do before I can bring her along. And Lily’s determined not to leave her. Best of luck to you, my friend. When you find Chloe—and you will find her—send word to Lillianna?”

  “We’ll stop and see her ourselves,” Gregory assured him.

  Saying goodbye, Gregory brought down their trunks and took Arabella’s hand.

  “I know you’re tired, sweetheart. And I have more to do yet, tonight. I’m taking us to a local hotel for the night.”

  It wasn’t far. He found a large room with high ceilings and enough room for her to be comfortable and ordered supper in, while they talked.

  “All right, my darling girl,” he said, pulling up a small table for her to set the lists on. “Tell me what you think.”

  She looked up with her mesmerizing sea-green eyes. “All of these witnesses,” she went down the list of those she’d checked, “mentioned two men driving the coach. One large, overweight man and a man who was smaller. Several of them said they knew the two of them, and that the second man had a wooden leg. No one else. And they all thought there was someone in the coach who just reached out and grabbed her and pulled her in. No one knew the names of either man, and no one saw the man who pulled her inside.”

  “The second man had boots on. And he didn’t get off the coach.”

  “No, he didn’t. So, they must have known him from somewhere. It’s the only way they’d be privy to the information, is it not?”

  “It is, indeed. And you, sweetheart. What did you see?”

  She scowled. “I saw the coach coming. And I saw the two men on top. But when you shouted for me, I ran toward the plank. I didn’t see it stop, and I didn’t see what happened when Chloe was put inside. Or who did it.” Tears were pooling, and she shook her head. “If only I’d turned to look behind me—”

  Gregory pulled her close. “No, sweetheart. You did exactly the right thing by obeying me.” He frowned. “And I, likewise, was so concerned with getting you up the plank to the deck, I didn’t see it, either. That narrows us down to one man.”

  “Yes.” Her voice was strangled, but she pulled the sheet back out. “The very last one who spoke with you.” She tapped the pencil on the paper. “He was the only one who said that a man ran across toward the dock and took her from this side. The one who gave a description. And,” she met his eyes. “Who called him ‘The Ghost.’”

  “And who said to check out the pubs in Ainsley.”

  “I was watching him, Gregory. I’m sure you noticed it, but he kept on looking back over his shoulder, as if he feared someone was watching him.” Her eyes grew large. “Do you think he’s telling the truth? It almost sounds as if he—”

  “Was trying to implicate s
omeone purposely? I have no idea. But as soon as I eat dinner with you, I’ll go to a couple of pubs in the area just to see if there’s any other information to be gained. If not, tomorrow, we’ll head toward Ainsley.”

  Gregory might have saved his evening. There was no information to be gained in any of the pubs he visited. Word had gotten around that the captain of a ship was passing out funds for information; it didn’t matter whether it was true or not. He was glad he’d changed out of his uniform before visiting.

  Chapter 6

  Sounds in the night…

  The eerie sound was what awakened her; a low-pitched vibration that went on forever, eventually changing pitch and becoming higher just before it stopped. She shivered as she waited for it to happen again. Her chest heaved with fright, and her eyes were enormous as she glanced around the room.

  Moonlight gave only a very slight illumination through the windows, and she forced herself to slowly sit up.

  “Purr?” she whispered, hoping for the kitten’s comforting presence. She felt around the bed, finding no trace of her furry companion. Shaking, she put her legs over the side and lowered herself to the floor, feeling the cold contact with her feet.

  She padded toward the window so she could look out. What she saw made her gasp and put a hand to her mouth to stifle a shriek.

  There were shadows moving about in the darkness. Although she could barely see them in the moonlight, they gave the impression of great lumbering monsters. There was stealth in the movement; the shadows barely visible.

  Suddenly, the first form turned, as if looking back at the house. Instinctively, she backed away from the window and ran toward the bed, pulling the covers up to her chin.

  She lay there a long time, breathing rapidly. When her eyes finally adjusted to the dim light of the room, she began to relax. Repeatedly telling herself there was no one else in the room, she finally began to feel safe once again.

  But it was a long time before she finally fell asleep.

  Even though it was still dark outside, Chloe stirred when a far-off clock sounded four mournful gongs. Or was it five?

  Sliding her feet to the floor, she realized she had no slippers on. She glanced back at the covers, realizing someone must have removed them after she’d fallen asleep. She remembered the coldness of the floor when she’d been awakened the first time and wondered why she hadn’t reached for them then.

  “Who took my slippers off, Purr? Please let it be the mysterious Althea,” she muttered, looking around for her kitten. “I don’t like the idea of anyone else… Purr?”

  But Purr was gone.

  Groping around the bed toward the other side, she found the lantern on the table and worked quickly to light it. When yellow light filled the room, she breathed a heavy sigh of relief. She searched high and low for the kitten. Someone had removed the glass she’d swept into the corner. Wandering toward the wardrobe, she opened it, to find only her pelisse inside. What would she wear while she was here? She couldn’t possibly use the traveling frock every single day.

  But where were her slippers? Eventually, she found them under the bed and tugged them on, wondering where her kidnapper was.

  “That beast better not have tossed out my cat,” she mumbled, all remorse for breaking things vanishing. Full of indignation, she held out the lantern ahead of her and moved toward the door, preparing to pound it down if necessary.

  She stopped. The door was ajar slightly, just wide enough for a small kitten to escape and make mischief in the manor.

  “Oh, Purr. Please don’t relieve yourself on anything fine,” she muttered to her errant animal. Pulling on her slippers, she decided to go off in search of her cat.

  The house was quiet as she peeked outside the door, and she could almost hear the quiet argument playing in her mind. Run for the door! Scream for help! Escape!

  But she shook her head. “Not without Purr,” she promised herself. Cautiously looking up and down the hall, she sneaked out. A sigh of relief followed. There was no one there. The hall was eerily dark, and she moved down it, calling in whispers for the kitten. At the end of the hall, she took the steps downward, creeping about the house as she searched. Though smaller than Gregory’s home, this one was impressive. Kidnapping must be lucrative.

  Ahead, she spotted a beam of light coming from under a door. Deep, masculine cursing was coming from inside, but it was a different voice than her captor’s. She also heard banging and clanking about as if someone was cooking.

  Friend or foe, she pondered silently before reaching for the door.

  She managed to open it without a sound.

  A scruffy character stood near a counter, swearing regularly as he handled pots, bowls and pans. The smell of eggs, pork belly and toast filled the room. Chloe’s stomach growled at the delicious aroma. Having left her good sense back at the dock when she was kidnapped, she found herself coming up behind the cook and watching as he added seasonings to the eggs.

  “You know, that would be better if you added cheese with it.” The words were out before she thought better of it. To her shock, the strange man acted as if she hadn’t even spoken. He failed to even flinch at her appearance from out of nowhere. No doubt, he knew she was there before she even stepped into the kitchen.

  Finally, he gave her a sidewise glance. “Oh, ye think so, do ye? And ye’d be an expert, hm?”

  “Absolutely. My papa’s cook always did it that way.” She locked eyes with him, pretending she was not terrified of his sheer size.

  “Did he now?” he groused. He let out another stream of swear words, but since they didn’t seem to be directed at her, she relaxed her stance.

  Chloe tried to hide her grin. She had encountered men like this before. They tried to hide their softer side behind a wall of hostility.

  “Yer papa’s cook, eh? Might he be one of those fancy, pansy chefs, the kind so used to preparin’ food he don’t even need directions?”

  “Charles didn’t measure amounts; he just knew instinctively how much to use. And he always added cheese.”

  He paused, glancing at her as if he could care less about what her father’s cook did or did not do. But he did, Chloe knew, and she grinned all the wider when he reached around him to bring out a block of cheese. He cursed at the added work as he grated the dense substance. “Know-it-all-women. Ye don’t belong in me bloody kitchen, anyway. Ghost’ll be hearing about this, he will. Tellin’ me how to prepare me meals, as if I ain’t been fixin’ food in this bloody, hell-hole of a kitchen for close to a year.”

  Tongue in cheek, she commented on his words, “A whole year? Why, from the look of you and the ease of how you move about the kitchen, I would have figured you were born to the life. Not that it’s any of my business, me being a woman in your bloody kitchen and all, but you don’t have to do that. You can cut it in chunks and drop it in as they cook.”

  “The hell, ye say,” he said as he turned and put his beefy hands on his hips. Raising an eyebrow, he tried to stare her down and failed. “Cheeky little brat... I don’t need to grate the bloody cheese?” He mocked her high pitch.

  Lowering her own, she responded with a nod. “That’s bloody right, Mr., pardon me, chef. I didn’t catch your name.”

  “I didn’t’ throw it at ye. It’s Smiley. That’d be Chef Smiley to the likes of ye, Miss Chloe Tucker.”

  Before she could consider the fact that giant knew her name, she reacted. “Smiley?” Chloe burst out in laughter at his jest, but she soon realized he was not joking. “Of course, your name is Smiley. Why wouldn’t it be Smiley? The very moment I spied you cooking, I thought to myself, that bloody giant is one happy fellow. I bet his name matches his manner.”

  “What are ye doing in me bloody kitchen?”

  “None of your bloody business,” she replied with a matching glare. “Excuse me. That was rude of me. None of your bloody business, Chef Smiley.”

  They stood there, glaring at each other for a few moments, each trying to look meaner, befo
re he threw his head back, laughing.

  “Ladies ain’t supposed to curse,” he chided her.

  “Who said I was a lady?”

  “Ghost did. What Ghost says is law here, missy. Ye’d best remember that.” He shoved the cheese into her hand and nodded his head toward where the knives were. “All right, cheeky brat. If ye know so bloody much, show me how to do it like yer father’s fancy bastard of a chef. I’ll be gettin’ off me leg for a moment while ye do.”

  “What’s wrong with your leg?” Chloe took over the cooking without a fuss.

  “Lord, there ye go again, askin’ questions. Quick to notice missin’ cheese from eggs, but ain’t a clue in ye a man stands on a wooden plank. It ain’t there, that’s what’s wrong with it. Shut the bloody hell up and get busy.” He made a production of knocking his wooden stump on the floor as he stomped to the table and took a seat.

  Chloe did not even blink. She acted as if seeing a disheveled, cranky, one-legged cook was perfectly normal. “What happened to your bloody leg?” Since he seemed to like swearing, she continued adding colorful words of her own. If Sarah could hear her, Chloe would be tasting soap right now. But Sarah was far away, and it was best to stay on the better side of her captors. She added some more lard to the pan and stirred.

  With a straight face, he told her, “Well, it seems I miscalculated the amount of meat I needed once to cook for the crew. I had to make do with me leg.” Watching for her reaction, he carped at her when she refused to act shocked. “Ain’t ye listenin’, girl?”

  “I imagine the crew appreciated the sacrifice. Or was the meat stringy and tough? You need to cook lesser cuts of meat longer, under a low fire. But I expect you already knew that, Chef Smiley.”

  “Ghost said ye were a lady and all. How come ye don’t act all high an’ mighty?”

  “Perhaps because I’m not a lady,” she scowled at him.