Storm on the Horizon

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Storm on the Horizon Page 9

by Dayna Quince


  Chapter 10

  It was after midnight when Colton returned. He nodded to Dirk as he boarded the ship. He was sitting on a barrel, cocooned tightly against the drizzle, whittling a piece of wood under the light of a lantern.

  “Any luck?”

  Colton paused in the pool of light. “If the lovely Aline is to be believed, then yes, but I have to go back to be sure.”

  Dirk chuckled. “Need more coin to entice the lovely Aline?”

  “Actually, I need a woman.”

  “What?” Dirk looked up from his piece of wood.

  “I can’t move beyond the first floor of the house without a woman guest with me.” He clarified.

  “What the bloody hell for?”

  “I haven’t the faintest idea. I’ve asked every decent-looking prostitute I could find and offered adequate money to simply accompany me to the Gates of Heaven, and they all refuse.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t know what to do now.” He sighed in exasperation.

  “You got another woman you could ask, you know.” Dirk suggested.

  “No. Absolutely not.” Colton scowled.

  “It’s her brother, isn’t it? That’s why she snuck aboard in the first place.”

  “I can’t predict what kind of depravity I will find in there. I can’t expose her to that.”

  “You might not have a choice, Cap’n.”

  Colton cursed and turned away. He looked out over the stormy harbor and clenched his teeth. Dirk was right, of course. He needed to go back tonight and see for himself if Devon were truly there. It may be his only chance.

  “Grab Doolin and your pistols. Follow us there and wait outside. If there’s trouble, you know what to do.”

  “Aye, Cap’n.”

  Colton entered the short hall and contemplated his options. He knocked on his first mate’s door and found him awake. He told him his plan and instructed him to wait here with the ship at the ready in case they needed to leave quickly.

  He hesitated before the door to Olivia’s cabin. She most assuredly would be sleeping soundly when he entered. He lifted his hand to knock but then decided to just enter. The door opened quietly, and when he peeked his head in, he was greeted by darkness. He stepped in and closed the door. His eyes adjusting, he stepped near the bed and waited for some sign or movement.

  “Olivia,” he whispered. Still no sound. He stepped closer and kneeled on the bed. He could see her face clearly in the dim light, the light from the dock lanterns shining through the large windows. He brushed the hair from her cheek, and she turned her face into his hand but miraculously did not wake.

  “Olivia,” he said again a little louder.

  She licked her lips, and it felt like licks of fire on his skin.

  “Oh, what the hell.” He leaned down and kissed her lips. He felt her mouth move under his and then open, so he took advantage.

  Her hand came up to his neck and then her fingers slid into his hair. He was insane for doing this, for encouraging the demons inside him that clamored to shatter his control and simply take. He pulled away, and her eyes blinked open.

  “What are you doing here?” A small frown creased her brow.

  “I need your help,” he stated.

  She slowly sat up. “Devon?”

  He nodded. “I think I’ve found his location, but I won’t be admitted without a female guest at my side.” He saw her confusion. “It’s a brothel, and they have strict requirements.”

  Olivia sighed. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.” She slipped out the other side of the bed and pulled her dress over her head.

  “You don’t by chance have anything more elegant?” Colton said as he lit a bedside lamp.

  Olivia turned and narrowed her eyes. “I wasn’t planning on entering a house of ill repute. Is there a dress code I’m not aware of?”

  “It is evening attire, I’m afraid.” Colton scanned her dress speculatively. “This is going to pose a problem.”

  “Must we go this very moment?” she asked.

  “I fear we must. I’m trusting my gut that he’s there, and something tells me they don’t want him to leave.”

  “Why ever not?”

  “Money. An inebriated lord is like a pot of gold for them, at least until the funds run dry.”

  “When I get my hands on that son of a—” she grumbled.

  Colton raised his brows but didn’t comment. He was astonished that she hadn’t said a word about last night. Surely, she must have some questions or feelings about what occurred?

  Olivia laid out her three dresses and folded her arms in thought. The one she had yet to wear was heavy hunter green velvet. The bodice was embroidered with gold thread in a filigree design, but otherwise had no other adornment. She looked around the room for inspiration and her eyes fell on Colton’s heavy fur line cloak.

  “Give me your knife,” she bid.

  “What?” He looked skeptical.

  “I’m going to cut myself a fur wrap from your cloak. It won’t go far in the way of elegant but it will at least look expensive and luxurious.”

  He picked up the cloak from the chair and held it up. “Tell me where to cut.”

  The hackney pulled up outside the Gates of Heaven at a quarter to two. Lights still lit the windows, and laughter could be heard from inside. He looked at Olivia and was rather impressed with her costume. She didn’t look like a lady, but she definitely looked like a woman one would want to take home, or better yet, escort to a brothel for an evening of debauchery. She wore her hair down and enticingly disheveled. In fact, it looked as though she might have already engaged in a bit of bed sport.

  Colton grinned. The ruse was perfect and also alarmingly arousing.

  She clung to his arm as they climbed the steps, and he knocked on the door. The same menacing butler answered with a cold stare. Colton presented the red coin. “I’ve returned with my female guest.”

  The butler waved them in. Olivia kept her wrap firmly around her and declined to let a footman take it. She had it precisely folded so that the shorn edges would not be obvious.

  The first floor was livelier than before. Guests laughed and drank in abandon, some only half dressed. Colton approached the main stair where a footman stood guard against curious wanderers.

  “May I be of service, my lord?” The footman hungrily devoured Olivia with his eyes.

  Colton suppressed the urge to darken his daylights. Olivia was doing a wonderful job feigning boredom and was completely oblivious as she looked around the foyer.

  “I’ve returned with my female guest to gain access to the other floors. I’m to meet with Aline.” He felt her attention snap to him.

  “Aline is with another guest at the moment.”

  “Pity. She can join us later. I’m sure we can entertain ourselves until that time, can’t we darling?”

  “Perhaps,” Olivia drawled, now taking interest in the footman.

  “Excellent, my lord. You will surely enjoy your stay at the Gates of Heaven.” The footman waved them by, eyes only for Olivia.

  Olivia spared him a lingering glance over her shoulder before turning her attention to the stairs.

  “Enjoying your part?” Colton asked as she faced forward again. He shouldn’t be jealous but he was. He had asked her to come here, asked her to play the role of a loose woman, but the closer he got to her, the more difficult it became to see her as anything but his.

  “I recognize that I’m playing a role, do you? Or is this a normal evening for you?”

  Colton bit back a smile. “Not exactly.”

  She didn’t respond. They reached the landing that veered off into two halls on the left. If they continued forward, they entered a wide hall that gave off into open drawing rooms. The air had a peculiar sweet smell and was hazy with smoke.

  Colton kept his hand firmly on Olivia's lower back and watched her expression. So far, she was holding up well, her expression not giving away her innocence and the s
hock she must be in.

  They entered the hall with archways leading to four large rooms. The first room they passed was filled with chaise lounges and thick pillows covering the floor. He felt her breath catch, and then she turned to face him. He looked up to see what had shocked her and saw a woman pleasing a man orally on one of the chaise lounges. He looked down at her, at once fiercely protective and yet curious about her response. The air was thick with opium smoke and uncirculated air and heated with the energy of bodies finding pleasure.

  “We can still leave.” He pulled her close and whispered in her ear. They must not look suspicious.

  She shook her head. “This may be our only chance to search for him.”

  A group was coming up the stairs. It was Madame Ana followed by two large footmen. Colton quickly pulled Olivia into the other archway and against the wall. “Just follow along.” He warned her, and then he pulled her skirts up. “Wrap your leg around my thigh and kiss me like you mean it.”

  Olivia hesitated for a second, her eyes searching his, and then she threw her arms around him and pulled his head to hers.

  Colton crushed her to him but kept his senses trained on Madame Ana. She entered the room opposite them and approached a lone man lying motionless on a settee. Colton couldn’t see much but legs and boots. He broke the kiss and tucked Olivia’s head into his neck so he could see. She still held tightly to him and continued to make little kisses and licks against his skin.

  “What do you see,” she said against him.

  “I don’t know.”

  As he watched, Madame Ana shook the man’s leg to rouse him. He remained motionless. She rapidly rattled off some Dutch and the footmen departed. Colton watched as they headed up some back stairs. He returned his gaze to Madame Ana, and she proceeded to slap the unconscious man. His hand twitched, and he tried to lift one boot off the floor.

  The footmen returned, dragging an angry redhead wearing nothing but a dressing gown that hid nothing.

  “What happened to him?” Madame Ana said furiously. “I told you to keep him happy and keep him drugged but still able to spend his money. How do I explain a dead nobleman in my house? A dead nobleman can’t spend money.”

  “I’m sorry, Madame Ana, but he didn’t want me, all he wanted was to smoke,” the girl cried.

  “He could kill himself smoking so much. You know better. You’re a good-for-nothing, fat whore, and I want you out of my sight. Get her out of here!” She flung her arm at the footmen, and they escorted the girl away.

  Madame Ana picked up a glass of wine and threw it in the unconscious man’s face. He sputtered and gasped, and lifted his head.

  Colton tensed.

  “What is it?” Olivia said into his neck.

  “Devon.”

  She tried to pull back and see but he held her immobile. “Not yet.”

  “What’s happening, why must we be so careful about being seen?”

  “They’ve been drugging him to keep him here, to keep him paying.”

  “But surely they will let him leave if he chooses to.”

  “Not if they can help it.”

  The footmen returned, and Madame Ana abandoned Devon now that she was assured he was alive. Colton buried his face in Olivia’s hair as they passed by and continued down the stairs.

  “We must hurry.” He pulled them away from the wall and across the hall. They approached Devon casually, but when Colton looked around, none of the other guests gave two figs about what was going on around them. Olivia strolled by him nonchalantly, seductively lying on a nearby chaise and patting the cushion. Colton moved as if to join her then paused by Devon.

  “Wilhelm, you old dog.” He walked forward and Devon cracked open an eye.

  “Aye, Captain,” he slurred. “Fancy seeing you here.”

  “Where is here?” Colton asked quietly.

  “My apartments, you old fool. Where else would I be? Must be near nightfall, you know. I’ve got the usual rounds and parties to show my face at, but then I’m going to seduce a lovely ice queen.”

  Olivia gasped then clamped her mouth shut. She looked to Colton for guidance. Devon was out of his mind.

  Devon grinned broadly, and then his face went slack as he succumbed to the opium again.

  “What do we do? How do we get him out of here?” Olivia hissed.

  Colton shook his head. Devon looked like hell. His skin was pale and waxy, his hair overgrown, and his beard growing thick. He doubted he could walk, let alone be convincing enough to look like he was leaving under his own power. “We need a distraction.”

  Olivia sat up. “What kind of distraction?”

  “Anything to keep Madame Ana and her footmen at the front of the house while I drag his arse out the back.”

  “Oh.” Olivia thought about it for a moment. “I’ve got it.” She stood and adjusted her shawl. “Where shall I wait for you?”

  Colton eyed her warily. “My men are waiting out front in a hackney. They will spot you and know what to do. What exactly are you planning?”

  “Just be quick about it. I won’t be able to give you much time.”

  “I don’t fol—”

  Her hand struck him with such force he stepped back and nearly tripped on Devon’s legs.

  “How dare you!” She screeched for all to hear. “I have never been so insulted in my life!” She spun away from him and proceeded to demand everyone’s attention with her dramatic exit. “How dare he!” she yelled at the top of the stairs before stomping aggressively on each step as she descended. A crowd of guests and footmen stared in shock at the bottom.

  “I have never been so insulted in my life. The nerve of that oaf—that—that brigand!”

  Madame Ana appeared at the bottom of the stairs as well, looking quite alarmed. “Whatever is the matter?” she tried to pull Olivia aside as she reached the bottom.

  “Do you know what they are doing up there? The nerve of that man to bring me to a house of ill repute. Do you know who I am? Do you know who I am?” Olivia shouted.

  As soon as she had hit the first step, Colton had pulled Devon up to a sitting position. “Come on, old chap. Time to go home.”

  Devon only grunted in response. Colton had no choice but to hoist him over his shoulder and hurry for the back stairs. The other patrons in the room either had gathered to watch Olivia’s dramatic exit or were too inebriated to care what was happening. He slowly navigated the narrower back stairs, thankful they had only been one story up. Reaching the bottom, he went down a short hall to the servant’s hall, where most were gathered by the door listening to Olivia’s tirade. He deftly made his way through the kitchen and out the back door to the alley.

  Unfortunately, because it was a row of townhouses, he would have to walk to the end of the block and up the street again to reach the front of the house. He cursed and adjusted Devon on his shoulder. His back was starting to cramp and his legs ached from the weight. Devon was not a small man, perhaps lighter from ingesting more alcohol than food these past few months, but still larger than most.

  A hackney turned down the street, and Colton pressed up against the wall in the shadows. As it rolled closer, he heard Dirks low whistle. He stepped out, and the hackney pulled up to him. Depositing Devon into the hands of his two crewmen, he climbed into the hackney and sat beside Olivia. She smiled at him, and he couldn’t help smiling in return.

  “Was the slap necessary?” he asked.

  “Oh, definitely.”

  Chapter 11

  When they reached the ship, the heavens had opened and rain pelted them mercilessly. They hurried down the dock to where My Darling Emerald waited, the water growing more restless, and the sky rumbling ominously above them. Colton held Olivia’s hand and tugged her along while Dirk and Doolin carried Devon. They raced against the rain, only pausing when the crewmember on watch lowered the gangway for them. They hurried on board and into the shelter of the captain’s cabin. Dirk and Doolin tossed Devon on the bed, and Colton thanked them fo
r their help and bid them to find dry clothes and rest.

  Olivia ignored her own soaked clothing and anxiously looked over her dear rascal of a brother. He looked wretched. He smelled of that awful smoke and looked as though he hadn’t bathed for days. His hair was matted and greasy, his shirt stained and wrinkled, and his boots were scuffed and dull. She started to pull them off, and Colton stopped her.

  “You need to change first. You won’t be able to care for him if you catch your death.”

  Olivia looked down at her dress. It was forever ruined and felt heavier than a rolled up rug. She nodded and picked up one of her other dresses. She went behind the dressing screen and tried to reach the laces, but her fingers were cold and numb.

  “I’ll need your help,” she summoned him.

  Colton came around the screen and untied the wet laces for her. Once dry and dressed she returned to Devon’s side.

  They set about removing his boots. Once finished with that, Olivia started tugging on the sleeves of his coat. “It would be easier to just cut it off. We do have more clothes for him, after all.”

  “You’re right,” Colton agreed, and left to gather the clothing returning as Olivia bathed Devon’s face with a wet cloth.

  “When do you think he will wake?” Oliva asked.

  “I’m not sure,” Colton said. “I’ve no experience with things of this nature. I’ve heard of it, but I’ve never seen a person go through it.”

  “Oh. I suppose time will tell.” She sighed, her heart aching at the dreadful sight of her brother.

  Colton stepped away to change and then he and Olivia tackled the task of removing Devon’s clothes, Olivia taking the top half and Colton taking the bottom under the cover of a blanket. Once dressed in dry clothing, they settled him more comfortably in the bed and turned down the lamp. Outside, the storm grew in ferocity, and occasional flashes of lightning would light the room.

  Olivia was bone-tired and wished for a warm place to lie down. She looked to Colton, who was also staring blankly at Devon, and wondered where they would sleep for the remainder of the night.

 

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