Pulling the two of them to a stop, Peggy fixed her most serene look on her face. "Uhm, Captain Stoughton, would you mind getting the wine for me? I think I have torn the hem of my gown, and I need to go to the retiring room and have it looked at."
"Of course not, my dear," he said blithely.
Something in his voice made Peggy uneasy, but at the moment she didn't have the time to analyze those feelings. She had to get to Joc before the fool ruined all her plans.
"I'll rejoin you shortly, Captain," she assured him and then scurried off as fast as the crush of people would allow. To avoid the appearance that she had lied, Peggy charted a course for the nearest retiring room and even walked in and stood just out of sight. She counted to ten, then went to fifteen to be safe.
But time was of the essence, and she didn't have any more time to waste on subterfuge. Drifting back toward the door as casually as she could, Peggy glanced around the ballroom and then back to the spot she had left the Captain. All was clear.
A closed door stood several feet to her left, and she knew it led to a hallway and the back of the mansion. She glanced once more around the large room as she walked nonchalantly toward the door. A covert glance back at the refreshment table revealed no sign of her escort. And no sign of Sir Walter or Joc either. Good!
Peggy ducked through the door, then hiked the skirt of her gown to her knees, and took off at a dead run. Thanks to her earlier reconnaissance, she now knew the lay of the house. Just down the hallway was the door to the kitchen. A second door would take her in the direction of the walled garden at the back of the mansion. Hopefully, Joc had either gotten her silent order or seen her slipping away.
"Ma fille!"
Peggy's heart lurched as a huge hand clamped down on her arm from the darkness. It took a beat or two for her mind to catch up with her racing heart, and by then she had already swung her fist and connected with the steel chin of her first mate.
"Damn it, Jocquelin! Don't do that to me," Peggy hissed from the pain as she shook her hand.
"Do what?” he asked and then smirked at her. “I saw where you were going. It would make no sense to let you go out to zee garden when I am here. Oui?" Joc said.
Even in the darkened hallway, the insolent smirk on his face was visible. Her teeth clenched in frustration.
"You know damn well what . . . Oh, never mind. What the hell were you doing in the ballroom? You no more look English than Napoleon."
The grin on Joc's face stilted. He glanced down the hall at the door to the kitchen and grasped her upper arm once more. "Not here, little girl. Someone will come this way momentarily."
He pushed her through the second door and into the garden. Once in the open air, they briskly walked to the back of the garden to assure their privacy.
Without preamble, Joc released her arm and cut into her. "Why you looking at that man that way, little girl?"
Peggy feigned innocence. "What way?"
"Dieu!" Joc exclaimed, "What way? Like you were goin’ ta gobble him up. And like you were thinkin’ of takin’ the English dog to yer bed!" He turned and spit at her feet.
Peggy felt her face flush. She diverted her eyes to the ground and choked out her retort. "What if I am, Papa? I am a grown woman, and what I do is none of your concern."
"Menteuse!" he snapped. "Do you no remember what that dog, Gustav, did to you?"
Peggy flinched. She did remember. She had been in love with Gustav, and still might have been, once she got over his using her for his own gains.
She lashed out. "Imbécile! We need this man’s help to get to my father. I am doing my job. The one you insisted I do." Her gaze dropped to the ill-fitting livery he had stolen. "You just do yours, Papa. And that no longer includes telling me how to do mine."
Frustrated with him and herself, Peggy whirled away and stomped back toward the ballroom. She had a job to do. Which was paramount. And that meant she needed to get to know the man who would take her to her father. And to her revenge.
Chapter 6
A very long week later
It had been one hell of a week as far as Luc was concerned. He and the Fallen Angels had failed his brother and sister-in-law. The night of the Wellington’s ball, he had been seriously distracted by the blue-eyed devil in a red ball gown.
When he apologized to Gabe and Katie for failing them, his brother had insisted that it wasn’t Luc’s fault. It had been Gabe who had ordered him to remain at the ball and continue to watch for their cousin. That hadn’t made Luc feel any better though. Because if he hadn’t been so distracted, Luc would have insisted that he accompany them home that night.
And as providence would have it, his brother's town coach had been attacked on the way home from the ball. His brother had been wounded and his wife kidnapped by their cousin. And Sir Walter had been nearly killed during the attack by two men who spoke French.
Fortunately, they had rescued Katie and killed their cousin when he had tried to murder Gabe. Now that the excitement was over, it was time Luc got on with his own life. Another clandestine job for Sir Walter and the Home Office. Only this time, Luc couldn’t figure out what the job could be since the war with France was officially over. But he knew it would be a vital assignment, as he had been ordered to report to Sir Walter Fletcher at his home and in his sick bed.
When he arrived, Luc was shocked by the severity of the man’s injuries. His head and jaw were encased in bandages. He was told that one of the shots had gone through both of the man’s cheeks without hitting any bones, only removing three of the director’s teeth. Another shot had struck him over his heart but had been stopped by a book he had in his coat pocket. The impact had broken several ribs but had not been lethal as a result.
Sir Walter also had a broken arm and leg, caused by the coach being overturned during the attack. The man had drifted near death for several days, and had only begun receiving visitors an hour ago. So Luc knew that the mission the man wanted to talk to him about was quite serious. That realization should have gotten Luc’s mind off the lady who had dominated his thoughts the last week. The feel of her skin still haunted his dreams. Both sleeping and waking dreams.
If he was brutally honest with himself, the real reason he had dropped everything he was doing and beat a hasty retreat to Sir Walter's residence was not because of the urgent message he had received. No, he was hoping to learn something else about the woman he hadn’t been able to forget.
But because of the severity of Sir Walter’s injuries, that was not a possibility. So Luc settled back and allowed Sir Walter’s secretary to outline the mission Luc was being asked to undertake.
Mister Harris, Sir Walter’s secretary, was a man of medium height, with a slight build and a full head of dirty blond hair. He had an elongated face, punctuated by a long narrow nose over nonexistent lips. A pair of silver rimmed glasses set on the tip of his nose as if waiting for gravity to finish the job and set them free. In the dimly lit bedroom, Luc could not discern the color of his eyes, but could see them twitching continuously between him and his boss.
When Sir Walter’s finger rose from the bed and wiggled a couple of times, the man launched into what was obviously a prepared speech.
“There are three objectives to this mission, Lord Lucien. The first is the rescue of a peer taken captive by a Barbary pirate by the name of Jean-Paul Chevalier. Captain Jean-Paul Chevalier, to be precise.”
Luc glanced at Sir Walter then back. “Who is the peer, Mr. Harris?”
The man hesitated as his eyes flickered between Luc and his boss. Out of the corner of his eye, Luc saw Sir Walter’s finger twitch, causing the secretary to audibly swallow.
“The Earl of Kiterman, Marcus Hennessey,” Harris said.
A shiver ran up Luc’s back, and then a burning resentment began to fill his chest. “Any relation to Lady Margaret Hennessey? The bonny lass Sir Walter was with at the Wellington’s ball?”
In a bored tone, Harris replied, “The young lady’s father, mil
ord.”
“Bloody ‘ell,” Luc exploded and turned toward the invalid in the bed. “Ye set me up, you son-of-a-bitch!” The burning resentment turned into a boiling anger. They had both tricked him. And the lady had been playing him for a fool.
“There was no deception perpetrated on you, Lord Lucien,” the secretary cut in, unfazed by Luc’s outbursts. “Lady Margaret was asked to attend his Grace’s ball for the purpose of aiding in the protection of your brother, the Duke of Belfort, and his wife. She is, as Sir Walter indicated, uniquely qualified for such an assignment.”
The sensation of being betrayed grew and nearly choked off his words. “I just bet she is. Is she another one of your bleeding agents?”
Walter grunted, and Harris snorted. “Hardly that, Lord Lucien. Lady Margaret was in fact raised by her paternal uncle, Lord Edward Hennessey, the third Earl of Kiterman. An unusual man with eccentric taste. To be precise, milord, the Earl of Kiterman forsook his breeding and our country to become a pirate.”
Sir Walter grunted, stopping Harris’s tirade. The secretary’s eyes flickered to his boss and then return to Luc.
“I beg your pardon, Lord Lucien. The Earl of Kiterman left England to pursue a life as a gentleman pirate. A privateer for King and Country.”
Confused, Luc glanced from Harris to Sir Walter. “What aren’t you tellin’ me, Mr. Harris?” he demanded.
Harris looked up toward the ceiling. “On occasion, the earl did favors for the Crown.”
Sir Walter growled from the bed. Harris looked back at Luc. “The Earl of Kiterman gathered information for the Crown during the war, milord.” His eyes flickered to the cocooned body of Sir Walter. “He was a bloody hero, milord.”
Sir Walter snorted, and Harris looked away. There was more to this story that the secretary, or Sir Walter, were not willing to reveal.
“Alright, Mr. Harris. The Earl of Kiterman was a bleedin’ hero. And I assume that his niece is one too.”
“No,” Harris said, and there was no missing the aversion in the man’s voice. “Lady Margaret was raised by her uncle and his first mate, a Mr. Jocquelin Malveaux. Who is now the young lady’s legal guardian. From what we have been able to ascertain, Miss Margaret Hennessey was sent to boarding school and spent a minimal of time romping around the seas with her uncle. But it has made the young woman incorrigible and very difficult to deal with. Especially, with her elevation in rank. As I am sure you observed last week.”
That he had. “Then she is not a part of this mission,” Luc speculated.
“I did not say that,” Harris replied.
Sir Walter growled again, and Luc narrowed his eyes at the secretary.
“Edward Hennessey, the third Earl of Kiterman, was murdered six months ago as he was leaving his ship. Lady Margaret, at the time Miss Hennessey, witnessed the murder.”
A little of Luc’s anger slipped away. He knew what it was to lose a close family member, his own sister had been murdered when he was but a young boy.
“Who murdered the earl?” Luc asked.
“Lady Margaret believes it was a rival pirate. But the assassin fired from hiding, so they were never able to identify the killer,” Harris said.
Luc digested that then asked, “Then what happened?”
“Shortly after the earl’s murder, his brother, now the fourth Earl of Kiterman, was kidnapped by another Barbary pirate.”
“This Captain Chevalier,” Luc verified out loud.
“Quite so, milord,” Harris said. “But the Chevalier fellow did not abduct Marcus Hennessey on his own accord. He did so at the direction of another man, a Frenchman by the name of Dacey Guerrant. A man we have been watching for some time.”
Luc glanced between the two men, then asked, “Is that why this Guerrant had the earl kidnapped?”
Harris took a breath. “We don’t know, milord. At the time of the earl’s kidnapping, Guerrant was still in France and unaware of our investigation of him. In fact,” Harris glanced down at a file in his hands, “as of last week, he was in Paris. Guerrant is apparently directing this operation from the safety of his stronghold. So he might still be unaware of our interest in him. Especially as his demands had nothing to do with the Home Office or our government.”
Luc narrowed his eyes and lowered his voice. “Then what did he demand, Mr. Harris?”
Once again Harris was unimpressed with Luc’s anger. “Fifty thousand pounds in gold, milord.”
Luc whistled softly. That was a hell of lot of money. Even for a peer and an earl.
Harris hesitated, then continued, “And for the money to be delivered by the earl’s daughter and another Barbary pirate by the name of Captain Peri.”
That explained the man’s cryptic comment about Lady Margaret’s involvement in the mission. Filing that information away, he concentrated on the name of the pirate Harris named.
Luc had heard the pirate’s name of course. Most of England had heard of the daring pirate. He was almost a mythical figure to some people. Just not to Luc.
Once again, he glanced at Sir Walter, who lay as still as the dead beneath the covers. Frustrated and running out of patience, Luc stepped between the two men and faced Harris.
“Who is this Captain Peri? And why does this Guerrant want the earl’s daughter and him to deliver the ransom?”
Harris shifted to the side and Luc matched his movement. The secretary glared up at Luc then relented. “In answer to your second question, we do not know why he is insisting that Captain Peri be the one to deliver the money. We have our suspicions. But they are unconfirmed at this time.”
Luc raised an eyebrow. He now had his own suspicions. And they did not bode well for his survival. But then, most of the missions Sir Walter had sent him on over the years had been of a similar nature. So it wasn’t anything new.
“We speculate that it is because Edward Hennessey owned the Coral Sea, the ship Captain Peri was on. And that Guerrant has somehow made the connections between the two men. And that he is also aware that Lady Margaret was Edward Hennessey’s ward.”
“Then you think he is tryin’ to use the lass as leverage in this scheme?” Luc asked.
“Possibly,” Harris replied. “But like I said, it is all speculation at this point.”
Luc didn’t like the idea of the woman he met the other day being used in such a way. But he would deal with that later.
“And will this Captain Peri agree to take the ransom to Guerrant?” Luc asked.
Harris shifted and his eyes twitched. “That would be impossible, milord. Edward Hennessey was Captain Peri. Or more to the point, he was pretending to be Peri.”
“What?” Luc demanded, inciting another growl from the bed behind him.
Harris shifted to the side and Luc blocked his view of his boss again, causing the secretary to glare up at him.
“As I said, Edward Hennessey did favors for the Crown, relaying enemy troop movements and gathering vital information during the war. To protect his identity, we-” Sir Walter snorted, causing Harris to hesitate then clarify, “-Sir Walter came up with a public persona that could be shown to the world. Thus protecting Edward Hennessey and his family from public scorn. The persona was that of a Barbary pirate captain by the name of Peri.”
As with most things involving Sir Walter in the Home Office, all this was becoming as clear as swamp water.
“I gather then, that part of my mission is to deliver the ransom to either Captain Chevalier or this Guerrant?”
“You are to deliver the gold to Captain Chevalier, Lord Lucien. At which time the pirate will tell you where he is hiding the Earl of Kiterman,” Harris replied.
Luc raised an eyebrow at the man.
Harris cleared his throat, then said, “Apparently, Captain Chevalier does not trust the English government, Captain Peri, or his employer. And he will not reveal the location of the earl until he sees the gold.”
Luc nodded then took a breath and asked, “But if this Captain Peri is dead, then how is he
to deliver the money?”
Harris looked at him as if he was a thickheaded schoolboy not able to grasp a simple lesson. “As I said, Edward Hennessey was not Captain Peri, milord. It was simply a public persona that was created to hide the true identity of the earl, and played by one of his men. According to Lady Margaret, that man was killed in the same attack that took the third earl’s life.”
Luc thought the explanation a bit too convenient, but nodded politely to the secretary so he would continue with his story.
“Consequently, Peri existed only as a cover for the man,” Sir Walter snorted, causing Harris to flinch, “commanding a pirate ship by the name of the Coral Sea. Great pains were taken to ensure that no one saw Captain Peri up close. So all anyone knowns of the pirate is a general description of the man.”
Something cold ran down Luc’s back. “A general description,” he repeated. “And what, might I ask, is the general description of this Captain Peri persona?”
Harris’ eyes did a quick perusal of Luc and then came back to his eyes. “A tall, fit man with,” his eyes flicked up to Luc’s brown hair, “blond hair, light blue eyes,” Harris’ stared at the scar on the left side of Luc’s face, “and a scar that runs from his temple to the corner of his mouth.”
“Bloody, fuckin’, ’ell! You made this man out to look like me,” Luc accused. “Didn’t you?”
“No, milord, we did not. The Peri persona was created some years ago by Sir Walter and another person who was secretly working for the crown. The name and persona were passed to Lord Kiterman when he took command of the ship several years ago. Then about a year ago, Peri tried to take a French ship and the man playing the role of Peri was wounded during the skirmish,” Harris’s eyes flickered to Luc’s left cheek, “a long sword scar on his left cheek. Consequently, milord, you just happen to look like the fictitious pirate. Fate, Lord Lucien.”
“And you want me to play this Captain Peri role now?”
To Save a Fallen Angel (The Fallen Angels series Book 2) Page 4