Scoundrel (Lost Lords of Radcliffe Book 4)

by Cheryl Holt

  The chances for ruination had been too dire. He’d proved she had a weak character, that she had no ability to resist dissipation when the stakes were low and no one was watching. In that, she was no better than Rowena. Clearly she might engage in any wicked deed if the cad persuading her was handsome enough.

  No, there was no benefit to a liaison with Chase Hubbard, and the quicker she put distance between them, the more relieved she’d be.

  “What’s it to be Rowena?” she asked. “Will you stay with me or not?”

  Rowena pondered for an eternity, then mumbled, “I’ll stay.”

  “I’m glad to hear it, but I insist you alter your attitude. I can’t have you nagging and nitpicking.”

  “I won’t. I’m sorry. It’s just that Mr. Robertson was very kind to me, and it’s been so long since I’ve met anybody wonderful.”

  “I’m sure he’s a fine young man.”

  Faith had no idea if the statement was true. He’d been courteous and cordial, but she hadn’t spent sufficient time with him to be confident in her opinion. Mr. Hubbard on the other hand, she knew all too well and none of the information was good.

  “I didn’t wish to depart,” Rowena said. “I was upset by your forcing us away.”

  “It was a fantasy, Rowena—the villa, the servants, the indolent life. There were no rules to guide us or moderate our conduct, and we showed ourselves to be reckless. There was naught to be gained by tarrying.”

  “Except my friendship with Mr. Robertson.”

  “I understand,” Faith commiserated, and she had to bite her tongue so she didn’t add, but you’re not free to act on such feelings!

  They’d reached a peace accord, and she wouldn’t raise any issue that would have them bickering again.

  “Let’s walk down to the harbor,” she said instead. “I thought the harbormaster was a decent enough fellow.”

  “If you don’t count how he kept us locked up until our captain sneaked away with all our belongings. Do you suppose our captain paid a bribe so he’d be permitted to abandon us?”

  “The notion never occurred to me. I’m sure he simply forgot us. He’d lost so much of his crew. He desperately needed more sailors so a group of bothersome females was probably the last thing on his mind.”

  They went over to the girls, and they rested and ate a snack Faith had brought. Then they trudged down the hill.

  It was the hottest part of the afternoon so the streets were deserted, the bulk of the population inside in the shade where it was cooler. As they approached the water, the temperature dropped many degrees so it wasn’t quite as stifling.

  It took her some time to find the right building. Even though they’d been there only a few days previous, everything seemed different. Or maybe it was just that she was so different. The surroundings appeared changed, the world tilted slightly.

  She had the girls wait outside with Rowena, and she entered alone.

  The harbormaster wasn’t in, but there was another man seated at his desk. They stumbled with languages until they decided he spoke French and a little English, but his English was so thickly accented that Faith could barely decipher his words.

  He wasn’t very old, perhaps thirty or so, but he was very fat, his face round, his belly too. He was wearing a white robe and turban, and his dark eyes studied her with a dismissive sort of regard. It wasn’t insolence precisely, but it was extremely aggravating.

  “I need some help,” she explained. “We were on the quarantine ship that docked several weeks ago.”

  “Yes, mon sieur,” he said. “I remember you. Was there no Englishman at the villa?”

  “There was, but he couldn’t assist us.”

  “What aid is it you seek?”

  “I was wondering if there might be a Christian church in town.”

  He clucked with offense. “Such a thing would not be allowed.”

  “There’s not one?”

  “No.”

  “Does the town offer charity to travelers?” It wasn’t unheard of that strangers would be given support. Traveling was a risky business, no matter the country. “We require a place to stay, and I must write a letter and send it on to my convent in Scotland. I’d also like to talk with any ship captains who come ashore.”

  “To what end?” he asked.

  “I’m anxious to learn if any of them are bound for England. Or across the sea to Spain. There are Catholic churches and convents there. If a captain would take us, we could request refuge there while we wait for a reply from our sisters at home.”

  He mulled her comments forever. She could almost see wheels spinning in his head as he tried to figure out how he might scheme against her to be compensated for his involvement, so she felt compelled to say, “We’re in dire straits, sir. As you probably recall, our ship sailed without us, and all of our possessions were lost.”

  “Yes, I recall. When you were here before, you had some girls with you. And another nun.”

  “Yes. They are outside.”

  “The girls have no parents to watch over them?”

  “No, they were living in Rome, and their parents passed away. We were with our Mother Superior, and she was their aunt. But she died on the plague vessel, and I’m acting as their guardian.”

  He studied her again, and she thought his evaluation was shifty and suspicious, but then every man she’d met in the accursed town had seemed shifty and suspicious.

  Ultimately he pushed himself to his feet. “I know of a location where you can reside until we resolve your situation. You’ll be comfortable there. You can rest, and I’ll begin making inquiries for you.”

  “You’re very kind. I can’t tell you how grateful I am.”

  She smiled, but he didn’t smile back. He gestured to the door. “I’ll escort you there now.”

  “I appreciate it. I swear we won’t be any trouble.”

  He snorted with what might have been amusement. “I’m predicting you’ll be quite a bit of trouble, but I’m positive you’ll be worth it.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Chase awakened feeling grumpy and cross and randy as the dickens.

  The previous evening, he’d kissed Faith until he couldn’t stand it anymore, and his mind was muddled as to what had occurred. She was a novitiate, on an eight-year road to becoming a nun. She was off limits and unavailable, but he was attracted to her as he’d never been attracted to another female. What was he to make of such a strange situation?

  And what about her? Why would she dawdle in the moonlight and participate? He didn’t know how to behave any better, but she certainly did. Her involvement was completely insane unless perhaps she wasn’t quite as determined to be a nun as she claimed.

  No matter her reasoning, the whole sordid business had him out of sorts. Their stirring tryst had his body begging for attention, and he needed a concubine more than ever, but he hadn’t asked the girl to join him. He’d slept by himself and had passed a miserable night tossing and turning and fretting over Faith and her entourage.

  What was to be done with them?

  He hadn’t a clue, but at least he’d convinced her to remain at the villa until they could work out a viable solution. At least for the time being, she was safe and out of danger.

  Yet nothing good could come from having Faith linger. He was deliberately flirting with her, wearing down her defenses. What if he eventually succeeded? What if he pursued her until he caught her?

  She’d be ruined, but he wouldn’t rectify her fallen condition. He hadn’t the funds to rectify his own pathetic circumstance, let alone anyone else’s.

  He rolled onto his back and grinned up at the ceiling, thinking how fun the day would be. He’d find Faith and tease her and…

  Suddenly his wicked ruminations were interrupted by Ralston pounding on his door. Before Chase could invite him to enter, he blustered in, which was definitely out of character. Ralston was very much a vicar’s son and shocked by the notion of licentiousness being perpetuated outside the
sanctity of marriage, so he was still a virgin.

  Chase had encouraged him to dabble with the slave girl. She’d have taught him what a fellow should learn before he stumbled into a wife’s bed, but he’d constantly declined any tutoring.

  Chase found his prudishness amusing, but ridiculous too. A man needed guidance in the amorous arts, and Ralston hoped to wed and settle down. Why shouldn’t he start off the physical aspect of his union with some finesse? His bride would be happier for it.

  Ralston’s refusal was silly to Chase, but then Chase had a different moral view of the world, so he was surprised to have Ralston rush in. Once prior, he’d hurried in when Chase had been in the middle of a very raucous carnal session, and the poor boy had nearly been struck blind.

  “What’s wrong?” Chase asked. “Since you entered without waiting to hear if I’m otherwise engaged, it must be hideous.”

  “You won’t believe what’s happened.”

  Chase’s heart sank. “The owner arrived to kick us out.”

  “No, it’s much worse.”

  “Worse than losing our lodging?”

  “Yes.”

  “Don’t keep me in suspense. What is it?”

  “Sister Faithful has taken Rowena and the girls and left.”

  “What?”

  “They left!”

  “You’re not serious.”

  “Oh, but I am. Rowena was to join me for breakfast, and I’ve been twiddling my thumbs for an hour. I simply thought she’d overslept, then a servant brought me this.”

  He thrust out a piece of paper, and Chase grabbed it, quickly discerning it was a letter from Faith. He perused the words she’d penned, muttering aloud the final line, “Thank you for your hospitality.”

  He crumpled the letter into a ball and tossed it on the floor.

  The woman was mad as a hatter. She likely assumed her nun’s habit would give her protection that wouldn’t be afforded another female, but he had news for her. They were in a foreign land, filled with unscrupulous strangers, and none of them were partial to her brand of religion. Neither a nun’s habit nor any other factor would prevent a criminal from harming her.

  “I talked to her last night,” Chase said. “She wanted to leave, and I persuaded her not to. She swore she’d stay until you and I could devise a plan.”

  “She lied to you.”

  “Yes, the pious little schemer lied to my face.”

  “What should we do?” Ralston asked. “We can’t let them traipse off alone like this.”

  “It would serve them right if they encountered difficulties.”

  “Chase!” Ralston scolded. “You don’t mean that.”

  “No,” he agreed, but he grumbled, “but it would serve them right. Didn’t I tell you she was bossy and headstrong?”

  “Yes, you did.”

  “I warned her of the perils, but she thinks she knows best, which is the most aggravating kind of female.”

  “Well, she may be aggravating, but she has Rowena and the girls with her. Whatever Sister Faithful’s quirks, the others shouldn’t be painted with the same brush, especially not the girls.”

  “I told you they’d end up being a total pain in the ass. Didn’t I?”

  “Yes, Chase.”

  “On occasion, I hate to be correct.”

  He blew out a heavy breath, pondered, debated, then he sat up and threw off the blanket. “Give me a minute to get dressed. We’ll go after them.”

  “Marvelous.”

  “Have the servants pack supplies in case we’re away for a few days.”

  “I will.”

  “And gather our weapons. We should be fully armed.”

  In their time at the villa, they’d snooped through all of it, and they’d stumbled on swords and daggers, on a pistol too. Chase had learned his lesson in Africa. He wouldn’t budge two inches without an arsenal strapped to his back.

  “I’ll see to the preparations,” Ralston said.

  “Then you will remain glued to my side.”

  “I will, but why? So we’re not separated if there’s trouble?”

  “No. I need you close by so when we find them, you can stop me from wringing Sister Faith’s pretty neck.”

  * * * *

  It was voices outside that woke Faith. She was exhausted and had been napping.

  She jumped up and went to the door, trying the knob again, but it was still locked. She didn’t understand why, whether it was to keep them in or to keep miscreants out.

  Nothing bad had occurred. The man who’d offered to assist them had been perfectly courteous and had given them no reason to fret. They’d been delivered to a small cottage tucked in a walled courtyard. The tiny house was clean, and with it being situated under a shade tree, it wasn’t too hot. There were windows high up that caught the sea breeze and freshened the air.

  They’d been fed, and there were jugs of water to quench their thirst and wash off the dust of the road. Faith had been provided with paper, ink, and quill in order to write a letter to Scotland.

  But…the door was locked.

  She pressed her ear to the wood, and it sounded as if two men were talking. They were speaking in Arabic, but French too, so some of the discussion was unintelligible, while other parts she could decipher.

  “I’ll just take the girls for now,” one of them said.

  “Are you sure?” the other asked.

  “I’ll come back for the women. I want to separate them. It will be easier that way.”

  “If I have to keep them here for a bit, it will cost you more.”

  “Of course. It’s what I would have expected.”

  She frowned, unnerved by the conversation. They were to be separated? That couldn’t be correct. She tried to convince herself they were parleying over some other women and girls, but it was an isolated spot and in light of their location, it wasn’t likely the two men were simply passing by.

  “What about my commission?” one asked.

  “As soon as the sales are final, you’ll be paid.”

  “I’d better be.”

  “Have I ever failed to compensate you?”

  The lock rattled, and Faith gasped and leapt away. Rowena and the girls were napping too, on a blanket they’d spread on the floor in the corner. She hurried over and shook Rowena awake.

  Rowena was up like a shot. “What is it?”

  “Something’s happening. I don’t know what.”

  The door opened, and the man from the harbor entered. There was a second man with him and he was much older, dressed in flowing white robes, a turban circling his head.

  He looked cruel and devious, and he studied them carefully, as if calculating their value.

  Mary and Martha were roused by the noise, but Millicent didn’t stir.

  “What did I tell you?” the younger man said.

  “Exquisite,” the older one agreed, assessing the girls in what Faith could only describe as a lecherous way. Her pulse began to hammer with dread.

  “May I help you?” she asked.

  They ignored her and exchanged a flurry of words in Arabic, then the younger man advised Faith, “The girls will leave with my friend.”

  “They most certainly will not,” Faith said.

  “I’m sorry, mon sieur, but the matter is quite out of your hands.”

  Mary tugged on Faith’s skirt. “What do they want, Faith?”

  Martha added, “We don’t have to go with them, do we?”

  “No,” Faith adamantly replied, “you’re staying with me.”

  She pushed the pair behind her, and Rowena moved next to Faith, both of them using their bodies to shield the girls from view.

  Faith had never been so terrified. Not during the illness on the ship. Not when there were so many dead that they’d dumped corpses overboard. Not when Mother Superior had perished. Not when they’d been hustled into quarantine. Not when they’d been released and discovered they were abandoned and penniless.

  “You can’t take the
m!” she said. “I won’t let you.”

  “The transaction is complete. Your opinion is irrelevant.”

  “You’re being absurd,” Faith told him, her mind reeling as she tried to figure out a viable response.

  They were bigger and male and very determined. Faith was smaller, female, and in a foreign country where she couldn’t even chat with people in their language.

  “Let’s get this over with,” the older man said.

  He clapped his hands, and two other men dashed in. They were dark-skinned and appeared to be slaves.

  They marched directly over to Faith and Rowena and shoved them aside. One of them grabbed Mary and Martha, a girl clutched under each arm, and started out. The commotion had revived Millicent, and she sat up and was rubbing her eyes. The other slave picked her up and started out too.

  Chaos erupted. The girls were shrieking with dismay, and Faith rushed after them, but the man from the harbormaster’s office blocked her way. She wrestled with him, but he was very large, and she simply couldn’t make any progress.

  “Where are you taking them?” she shouted. “You can’t have them! You can’t!”

  “You dirty blighter!” Rowena hissed at the older man.

  She charged him and, amazing Faith very much, she clawed at his face with her fingernails. She managed to slash his cheek open. He slapped her and she collapsed to the ground.

  Faith continued to wrestle, to scream to the girls who were being swiftly carried across the courtyard to the gate that led to the street.

  She’d never hit anyone in her life, but she’d learned a quick lesson from Rowena. She jabbed at her assailant, poking him in the eye so he lurched away. His temporary pain afforded her an opportunity to free herself and run, yet her escape lasted but a second. In a trice, she was seized from behind, a palm clamped over her mouth.

  “There is no need to fret, Mademoiselle,” he whispered in her ear. “You cannot stop what is occurring. Say goodbye while you have the chance.”

  She bit him very hard, hard enough to draw blood, and he yelped in agony and dropped her. She fell to her knees and called, “Mary! Martha! Fight them! Fight!”

  She leapt to her feet and the brigand clasped her skirt, fabric tearing as he yanked her back. She came around swinging and was able to whack him on the chin, but she couldn’t inflict more damage. He gripped her wrists and squeezed so tightly that she cried out.