Mason shook his head. “You said there was no money.”
“I said that you had no money. According to your legal documents, two shipments have been ruined.”
“But we had insurance.”
“Not on smuggled goods.”
“Why resort to smuggling?”
Hay sighed. “To avoid the revenues that the Crown demands. It costs enough to bribe foreign clerks and pay the salary of the irregular soldiers who protect our overland shipments.”
“I never agreed to bribery,” Mason said.
“It is your signature on the invoices.”
“Forgeries,” Kate whispered. “He stole the original documents from the house.”
Mason looked at her. “I had no idea. I am sorrier than you will ever know.”
She didn’t answer.
* * *
Someone had to have noticed by now that Kate and Brian had not come in from the garden. The scullery maid had seen her leave. Julia must have wondered why she had taken so long to return. She would have notified Heath immediately. The night watchman might have noticed the carriage. But how would Colin know where to find her and Brian? She had no idea of their destination. As the carriage sped onward, all she could do was conceal her apprehension from Brian and hope he would remain as calm as she appeared.
* * *
The three men rose, the atmosphere heavy, their intention decided. Lord Heath had just rung for a footman when his wife opened the door. Colin stared at her and knew. Her red hair contrasted vividly against her bloodless face. His mind followed her explanation in horror.
“Hamm has searched the street from corner to corner. Kate and Brian did not come back in the house, but the scullery maid thought she heard carriage wheels when she went outside. They had only gone to the garden for air. The night watchman did not notice anything unusual, but then, he had our housemaid in his arms.”
“Go,” Heath said to Sir Daniel, who was already on his way to the door. “I want Hay’s lodgings searched. Colin, have three horses saddled. It will be faster if we separate. Julia, send Hamm to Park Lane to notify the family.”
She stepped aside to allow the men to pass. Colin swore under his breath. “Brian has run away several times,” he said tersely. “I pray to God that’s all this is.”
But for the life of him he could not envision Kate running after Brian without crying to the watchman that she needed help.
* * *
The carriage had stopped at the waterfront in what appeared to be the most deserted wharf on the river. She realized then what Hay intended to do. She glanced through the fog down the wharf to the fully rigged ship that sat at anchor. Lights shone in the great cabin, but before she could discern any movement on deck, Hay pushed her down the carriage steps toward a dilapidated warehouse.
She turned, meeting Brian’s stare. Whatever he felt did not show. She took a breath and almost gagged on the stench of the Thames, ripe with rotting ordure and an anonymous corpse or two. Then Hay prodded her to move.
* * *
Mason watched, helpless and horrified, as two sailors bound Kate and Brian and locked them in a dark, filthy stairwell that led from the warehouse to the waterfront. From its depths he discerned the lap of water against the stairs, a scratching of what he dared not imagine.
Kate had only whispered once to Brian to be brave, that he was practically a man. But the look of defiance on Brian’s face took Mason aback. It smacked of the same Boscastle arrogance that Colin and his brothers had boasted years ago when the young blackguards ruled the village.
At least now Mason understood the reason Colin had sought revenge against Mason and his father.
He’d never stood up to anyone in his life, but the time had come.
He swung around, picking out Hay’s stooped figure in the lamplight. “I won’t allow you to harm either of them. He’s still a child, and that woman has done nothing to deserve your misuse. Moreover, I am not leaving England to escape what you have done.”
Hay turned from the small desk, on which sat an open valise. His face looked distorted in the lamplight, or perhaps Mason saw what he’d been afraid to see all these years. “Do you think you have a choice? Do you believe for one moment—”
The dull splintering of wood vibrated from the foundations of the warehouse. Hay’s features froze in uncertainty. But for the first time in Mason’s memory, a deeper instinct broke through his fears. He knew now what to fight for and whom to fight against. He would not be ruled by lies again.
Another muted crash shook the floor. Mason dove for the gun that Hay had placed on the top of his valise. Hay reached out, ripped at the neck of Mason’s coat. But Mason had a firm grasp of the gun, and he cocked it, oblivious to everything but the injustice he would finally end.
* * *
Kate thought that the river’s tidal waters had begun to seep through the door at the bottom of the steps, that she and Brian would drown. It didn’t matter that by now Colin must have realized she and Brian were missing. It wouldn’t even matter if he knew where to find them. He couldn’t arrive soon enough to free them. The tide would not stop for any man. Was there a waterline on the stairs?
Brian, his back to hers, their hands bound together, started at the splinter of wood below. “My father has come to save us,” he said with certainty. “I knew he would. It’s him, isn’t it, Kate? Is it him?”
Two men climbed over the wreckage of the wharf door; another loomed in the background. The first held a lantern that cast his scarred face into strange relief. In one moment he appeared to be young, attractive, a man who would appeal to a woman’s sympathy. In the next, his cruel expression extinguished the last spark of hope in her heart. Then he spoke, and his voice scratched like a nail down her spine.
“Listen one more time. I ain’t repeatin’ myself over and over. Never mind the spices or the damned carpets. Can’t drag ’em down the docks and expect the good citizens of London to buy damaged merchandise.”
“Not to mention stolen,” his companion said over his shoulder.
“What we’re goin’ for is them shawls. I know they look like useless bits of cloth, but the ladies of Mayfair can’t buy enough of ’em.”
“My sister ’as one,” said the looming hulk in the background. “She calls ’em paisley.”
“It’s cashmere,” the man holding the lantern said, ascending the first step. “It’s made of goat ’air, and each one sells for two ’undred pounds.”
“For goat ’air? Why?”
“Who the ’ell knows? But put ’em all in the bags, careful like. You’re not stuffin’ a mattress. They gotta look new, not wrinkled like your ugly mug. When we’re finished—”
He lifted the lantern and stared up into Kate’s face. For the rest of her life she would wonder which of them received the greatest shock. She made an unintelligible sound in her throat. The man reared back, knocking against his two companions.
“What is it, Nick? The police? Damn it all. You should never ’ave promised Millie you’d fetch ’er a shawl to make up for what you did.”
“God bless,” the man named Nick said, evidently recovered enough from his shock to climb another step. “What do we ’ave blocking our way? A pair of lovers? Ain’t that a sight to warm your bowels?”
Kate rushed to explain before he could enact any of the grim acts of which he looked capable. “We have been abducted from my cousin’s home by a man who is going to kill us, and he’s liable to kill you, too, if he realizes you’ve broken into the warehouse.” She drew a breath. “You are thieves, I assume? Not that I have anything but compassion for the lower classes who are reduced to criminal deeds in order to put bread on the table for their children—”
“Are we thieves, she asks?” the hulk in the background said with a guffaw that echoed through the stairwell. “You ’appen to be addressing the Arch Rogue of St. Giles—”
“Will you shut your trap?” the leader, who held the lantern, said in disgust. “The next thing
I know you’ll be ’anding out our reward posters and offering to sign your X for posterior’s sake.” He crept up the remaining steps. His gaze pensive, he examined Kate’s silk dress, the ring Colin had recently placed on her finger, the ropes that bound her hands and feet. “I’ve ’ad considerable experience with the ladies,” he mused, “and I gotta admit you don’t strike me as a female who’d cause a man enough grief to wrap you up for Christmas.”
“Oh, thank—”
“On the other ’and, I perceive you’re a few chapters short of a story.”
“Of course there’s more to it than what I’ve told you,” Kate said, blinking from the glare of the lantern he held to her face. She felt Brian shift, straining to see over his shoulder. She dug her nails into his knuckles to discourage him from saying anything that would worsen the situation. “But we—we don’t have all night. Can you please set us free? We’ll never tell anyone we saw you.”
He shook his head. “Do I look like a charity worker? I set you free, and the next thing I know, you’ll be screamin’ your ’ead off, and what will I get for my trouble? A nice room at Newgate, rats and manacles compliments of the ’ouse.”
“My husband will reward you for your bravery,” she whispered, drawing back from the alcohol fumes he breathed down into her face.
His focus sharpened. He glanced again at her wedding ring. “A reward?”
“I swear that you will not be sorry. Set us loose and your reward will be greater than all the shawls your lady loves could wear in a lifetime.”
“If you or that boy utters one solitary word that I set you loose as a kindness, I ain’t gonna be pleased.”
“I won’t. We won’t. But don’t go in the warehouse. In fact, run from these docks as soon as you untie us. There is going to be a murder in that office tonight. You do not wish to be involved.”
He shrugged. “It ain’t as if it’d be the first time. Still, I never liked seein’ anyone trussed up or chained,” he said, pulling a knife from his boot. “I’ll take you up on that offer of a reward. You just tell his nibs that Nick Rydell came to the rescue. Remember my name because I ain’t waitin’ around to shake the constable’s ’and.”
Kate squeezed her eyes shut as he sawed expertly through the rope. “Bless you. I’ll never forget you.”
“You better not. And what did you say your name was, my little treasure chest?”
“It’s Kate—I’m Lady Boscastle. My husband is Sir—”
“Oh, my God.” She flinched at the sneer that crossed his face. “What? Am I under a curse? Please don’t tell me you keep a diary, too.”
Her eyes lit with hope. “I am writing my mistress’s memoirs. How could you possibly know?”
The report of a pistol from inside the warehouse startled both of them into silence. Before she could shake the blood back into her wrists and reach for Brian, their three uncouth rescuers had clambered over the wreckage of the door below and escaped through the water to the wharf.
Brian shot to his feet, bringing Kate with him. “What are we going to do?” he asked, staring at the water rising to their knees.
“Go as quickly as you can down the steps, and then run. Run in the direction of those men and do not wait for me if I can’t keep up.”
* * *
The three horsemen dismounted in the fog that drifted from the river. Colin detected footsteps thudding into the warren of alleys that led from the waterfront. An escape, he thought. He had arrived too late.
Gabriel glanced up, his voice grave. “Do I give chase or stay with you?”
Colin felt Sebastien brush past him. He stared at the anchored ship.
“There’s a light coming from the warehouse,” Sebastien said, breaking into a run. “I guarantee that was not your wife or son we heard running.”
Sebastien was right. Neither Kate nor Brian knew the waterfront well enough to navigate it by instinct. He turned briefly. “Take the ship.”
But as he started after Sebastien, he saw two figures darting through the fog. Two beloved faces materialized that he hadn’t been certain he would ever see again.
He caught Kate in a hard embrace. Her hair hung down her back in snarls. Water stains reached to the waist of her off-white dress. “You and Brian stay here with Gabriel,” he said, his voice hoarse with relief.
“It isn’t what you think,” she said brokenly as he released her into his brother’s care. “Mason didn’t kill your father. But I think he might be dead. I heard a gunshot. Hay threatened to kill all of us.”
He pivoted and broke into a run, using Sebastien’s figure as a guidepost. Sebastien, who like Heath had suffered and sacrificed during the war. It was only right that he should be the family hero. It was only fair that Sebastien claim whatever justice there was to be found inside that warehouse.
But his brother needed a defender at his back. He drew his gun as Sebastien threw open the main door to the warehouse. And there stood before them the man whose life Colin had ruined and would have taken in his misguided quest for honor. Mason held a gun loosely in his hand. Blood trickled from his mouth. Hay lay unmoving on the floor, a valise and its contents scattered around his body. Sebastien moved without hesitation to Hay’s body and knelt to take his pulse.
Mason handed Colin the gun. “I killed him. Do what you want now to me. I did not poison your father, but Hay and my father used me for years, and now I have broken the cycle. Whatever punishment I will have to face is worth it. Whatever money the company has made is not mine. I have nothing, but I am not afraid at least.”
Chapter 49
London
Colin rode his mare alongside Sebastien’s stallion on Hyde Park’s crowded track. Gabriel and Brian had trotted ahead, nodding to friends who greeted Gabriel on the row.
At length Sebastien said, “Sir Daniel confirmed to Heath this morning that the hero at the waterfront is indeed a criminal named Nick Rydell.”
“I don’t care if he has a tail and horns,” Colin said. “I cannot bear to think what would have happened without him.”
“His followers call him the Arch Rogue of St. Giles, leader of dark wiles.”
“What reward has he demanded?”
Sebastien glanced at him in amusement. “He’s asked for a night at Audrey Watson’s House of Venus, all accommodations provided.”
“And nothing else?”
“You haven’t been in London very long,” Sebastien said. “A night with Audrey would bankrupt the ordinary citizen.”
“At least he didn’t ask for Georgette’s services.”
They rode together in silence until Sebastien said, “Are you at peace with the past now?”
“Not exactly,” Colin said. “I set out to be a hero and might have killed an innocent man to satisfy my honor. It does not give me peace to realize that I could have been a murderer.”
“But at least you learned the truth,” Sebastien said, staring across the park. “And you have the chance to begin again.”
“With you?”
A smile crept across Sebastien’s face. “Only if you swear that you will never charge off on another crusade without asking me to join you.”
Colin slowed his mare, allowing two other riders to pass. “What crusades are left for me to fight? The war is over. I have come back home to stay.”
“It was high time, too.”
“Then I am forgiven?”
Sebastien started to laugh. “How could I hold a grudge against the brother who corrupted me? I don’t know if I would have survived the war without the lessons you taught me when we ran away.”
Colin grinned. “Perhaps you can give me a few lessons in return. Kate and I are visiting Georgette and Mason early this evening, and tomorrow night we’re all attending the opera. I don’t know how I’ll be able to pay attention to anything but my wife.”
“I’m afraid I have the same problem. The inability to think straight is what happens to a Boscastle in love.”
* * *
The quill
moved quickly across the foolscap, the writer struggling to put down the words dictated by the woman sitting at her dressing table.
I have a waiting list of lovers whose names I shall not reveal until I publish the second installment of my sinful life.
The writer glanced up from the desk. “I will definitely revise this page. It should read: ‘I have a waiting list of lovers whose names I shall forget, as I have entered the second installment of my life—marriage to the man I adore and maternal devotion to the children I will give him.’”
“That makes me sound like a schoolmistress, Mason,” Georgette said, a perfume stopper in her hand. “I am not publishing a book on housekeeping. I have no experience in domestic affairs.”
Mason glanced down at the clothes overflowing the three trunks on the floor. “I can’t disagree with you on that.”
“I have more appealing knowledge to impart.”
He smiled. “Whatever knowledge you share will not leave this bedchamber, madam. I won’t interfere with the publication of your first book. I will remind you, however, that you are still under obligation to me.”
“You—”
“I did not draw up or sign a notice terminating our contract. That was a forgery.”
Georgette turned, her eyes bright with challenge. “What are you trying to say?”
“I can either take you to court or take you as my wife. The choice is yours. I suggest that in the meantime you finish putting on some clothes. Our company is due to arrive within the hour.”
Chapter 50
Brian knocked at the door of his mother’s town house, looking like such a young gentleman in his long black coat and pantaloons that Kate was overcome with pride. In fact, it took Bledridge a moment to recognize Brian, while Griswold, who had also come to answer the imperious knock, greeted the young master without any hesitation.
“Sir Colin, Lady Boscastle,” Bledridge said with a bow, “allow me to take you into the drawing room. Griswold, please inform Mr. Earling and Mrs. Lawson that their guests have arrived for tea. And Master Brian—”
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