She pressed herself against the front of the building, breathing slowly, but not daring to close her eyes.
Think, Abigail. She had to find a way to save Alex. It had taken all her will power not to scream when she saw the men pull hi into the alley. Logic told her screaming would only have endangered them both.
Perhaps there was a window on the other side of the building. If she could at least discover where he was being held, she could tell Sir Richard. He would surely know what to do.
She walked as naturally as she could with her knees quivering and her hands shaking, glancing quickly down the alley as she passed. It appeared to be empty. But someone could be hiding behind the crates, just as they were on the other side.
She stood pressed against the building, one eye watching the ally. It felt like hours passed. No noise. No movement.
Straightening her spine, Abigail walked around the corner and down the dim alleyway. She looked up at the windows, trying to calculate which one held Alex. She looked back towards the side street and then up at the window before her. This should be the one.
Pulling several crates and stacking them on top of each other, Abigail carefully climbed high enough to peer inside. The window was dirty and the room was dim, but she could just make out the form of a man in a chair. His chin was resting on his chest, his hands behind his back.
Abigail felt her throat tighten. What were they going to do to him? Her voice let out a quivering squeak. She knew the answer.
Scrambling down from the crates, she hurried out of the alley, making mental notes of shops and other landmarks to help her guide Sir Richard back.
She was to meet him and Lady Cartwright for tea, if she was not already late.
The others were already seated in the tea shop, Clara sitting between Sir Richard and Lady Cartwright.
Abigail pushed through the doors, her whole body shaking.
Lady Cartwright looked up and smiled. “Ah, Abigail. There you are. We were starting to be concerned.” Her smile faltered when she looked into Abigail’s face. “Dearest, what is it? You look quite ill.”
Abigail slid into her chair, turning to Sir Richard. “They have found him, Sir Richard. You must help him.”
His brow creased. “Slow down, child. I don’t know of what you are speaking.”
“Alex. Lord Grayson. His crew. They have him. Tied up. Please, help him.” Her brain was not thinking in complete sentences. Tears fell from the corners of her eyes.
Sir Richard leaned in close. “How do you know this?”
Abigail’s voice hitched. “I saw them take him.”
Clara sat across the table, her eyes wide. “You followed them, Abi?”
Abigail nodded. “I heard one say they were moving him to the ship tonight. You must hurry.”
Sir Richard stood. “Come, show me where he is.”
Abigail led Sir Richard back to the warehouse. She showed him the crates she had use to peer inside. He climbed up. Placing a hand above his eyes, he looked in. “Thunder an’ turf, Alex. What have you gone and done?”
He climbed down and walked Abigail back to the main street. “You go on and have tea with Maybel and Clara. I will see to Lord Grayson.”
Abigail shook her head. “No. I couldn’t. I must know he is safe.”
Sir Richard placed his hands on her shoulders. “Putting yourself in harm’s way will not help him. I will do everything I can to help him. I give you my word.”
Abigail gave a barely perceptible nod and turned back toward the tea shop to worry and wait.
Chapter 25
“Welcome home, Cap’n.” Henderson laughed as he pushed Alex to the floor. It moved underneath him. The smell of damp wood and salt water flooded his mind with memories.
“Will you not take off the bag? You need not keep it a secret where we are. A Captain knows his ship,” Alex growled using his most fearsome captain voice.
“You dislike it? All the more reason to keep it on. You betrayed us.” The bars on the brig clanged together, echoing through the small room.
Alex moved around until his back rested against the wooden slats of the hull. He leaned his head back and sighed. He had known this day would come, but it did not make it any easier now it was here. Had his legs and hands been untied, he was certain they would be shaking.
Someone came down the stairs, sitting heavily in the chair outside the bars.
“Who is there?” Alex knew his men. He had thought most of them loyal to him. But that was before Andrews had been allowed to sway them.
“Carper, sir.”
Alex grunted. “You are on first watch? Is it not your turn to take a caulk? What of those who stayed aboard the ship?”
“I asked for it, Cap’n.” He shifted in his seat.
“Carper, I am still your Captain. Come, remove the bag.”
Alex heard Carper release a long breath. He was thinking about it but was obviously concerned. The chair creaked, then a key rattled in the lock and the bars squeaked open.
Alex felt the bag scratch across his cheek as it was pulled from his head. He squinted against the lantern light.
Carper moved quickly to lock the door again and return to his seat.
“Why’d you do it, Cap’n?”
Alex stared blankly at Carper. He was not a boy anymore, but at sixteen, he was still young. Alex shook his head. Why would a boy want to sail with this lot? What would become of Carper? Would he continue until he was too old to sail? Or would something happen to cut his life short?
“I don't know what Andrews has told you, what he thinks he has learned, but as your Captain, I can assure you it is a lie."
Carper looked at Alex. "Dennison will be here shortly. The Council will decide who is telling the truth."
Alex nodded casually. “I hope, for your sake, the Council finds Andrews evidence correct or you will both dance the hempen jig."
Carper scratched at his ear. "He has letters, sir. It doesn't look good."
"I don't care what Andrews has. He broke the code." Alex wiggled his fingers behind his back, trying to get some circulation to them. "He should have called a council to hear the charges. Anyone following him is risking more than just losing their Captain." Alex shifted as much as he could with the ropes binding him.
Carper's Adam’s apple bobbed a few times. Alex could tell he was conflicted.
Alex turned away from the light. “I understand Dennison is to be here tomorrow. I need sleep so I can defend myself against the accusations Andrews has leveled against me.” He closed his eyes, dropping his head to the side, resting it against the hull. He cracked an eye open. “Carper?
The young man’s gaze drifted over to eAlex.
“Thank you for removing the bag. I won’t forget it.” The water lapped at the side of the ship, rocking Alex into a fitful sleep
Chapter 26
Alex raised a hand, shading his eyes from the bright sunshine. Andrews gave him a hard shove in the back and Alex dropped to his knees. His gaze first landed on the imposing form of Captain John Dennison.
Alex scanned the deck. His crew stood staring at him. Some sneered, obviously swayed by what Andrews had told them, while others looked at him with creased brows, confusion and uncertainty evident on their faces.
Not everyone believed Andrews. For that, Alex was grateful. But he did not know how long their loyalty would last, once Andrews presented his case. Alex took a deep breath.
Captain Dennison looked Alex over with narrowed eyes. He scowled at Andrews’s raised pistol and he dropped it to his side.
“Mr. Andrews, Captain Stringham is still your Captain. Untie him."
“Aye, Captain.” Andrews twitched but nodded to the man standing beside Alex.
Booker leaned over and began to work the knots binding Alex’s hands and feet.
Alex rubbed gently at his swollen wrists before pushing himself to standing and limping toward Captain Dennison. "Captain Dennison, welcome aboard the Destiny, sir. I hope you find her
in better condition than when you gave her to me.” He looked around at the men standing on the deck. “You need not have come. It’s a pile of rubbish, is what it is."
Andrews stepped forward. "It's not rubbish, Captain. You will see we have a traitor among us." His lips pressed into a hard line and his jaw clenched.
Captain Dennison growled. "The Council will decide what is rubbish and what is not, Mr. Andrews."
Dennison looked over the assembled crew, his lip curled in a cruel smile—one he used to instill fear and thus loyalty. He turned back to Andrews. "Let’s get on with it, Andrews. I can't afford to be stationary for long."
Andrews rushed over, withdrawing some papers from the band of his pants. "The papers will explain everything."
Dennison grabbed the papers with a growl. He scanned them, his eyes moving back and forth, his forehead furrowing.
He turned to Alex and glared, holding the papers up in front of Alex’s face. "What is this?" A small bead of spittle landed on Alex’s cheek.
Alex flinched but stood firmly in his place. "I have no idea. I’ve never seen them before in my life."
“You haven’t even looked at them.” Dennison bellowed. “How can you know?”
“I don’t need to look at them. I know I have never been duplicitous.”
“Then how do you explain these letters addressed to you, Captain Stringham?”
Alex guffawed. “I cannot. Because they are not mine. How bacon-brained do you believe me to be? Keeping such letters with my own name attached. Who would be so stupid?” He flicked a glance at Andrews. “I can only assume the letters have been written to make me look guilty.”
Captain Dennison looked back at the letters, squinting as he read through them again.
Andrews let out an angry cry. "You can’t believe him. He lies, Captain. You see they are addressed to him and I found them in his cabin."
"I am sure I could find such papers in your cabin, as well, Andrews—if I were to bring them with me when I searched.”
Andrews sputtered.
“Are you accusing Mr. Andrews of creating the letters?”
Alex shrugged. “I am accusing no one, sir. Only stating the obvious.”
Dennison licked his lips, staring hard at Alex and Andrews. Alex felt a small pebble of hope he had convinced Dennison of his innocence. While the council would ultimately decide who to believe, having Dennison on his side would surely help Alex.
“I am only one man. The council will decide your fate, Captain. We will use your cabin to discuss what will happen to you.”
Carper and Booker guided Alex to a crate turned on its end and pushed him onto the makeshift seat.
“Sail ho, Captain.” Both Dennison and Alex looked up to the man keeping watch from the main mast. He looked at Alex and then Dennison, then back to Alex. “Two ships are blocking the cove entrance, sir. At least one is a frigate.”
Dennison swore as he looked wildly about. “Andrews, what have you done?”
Andrews eyes widened. “This is not my doing, sir.”
A great clap shattered the air. The frigate ran a shot across the bow. Alex winced. A cannon ball hit the water on the starboard side sending a spray of water up the back of Alex’s neck. He had no notion of how or where the Royal Navy had come to know of this cove, but his heart raced with relief. He need only stay alive until the navy took possession of the Destiny.
Gun fire sounded from the beach on port side. The Destiny was surrounded. Dennison pulled his pistol from his belt and leveled it at Andrews. “This is you. You are the one who lured me here.”
Andrews head shook violently. “No, Captain. I would never. It has to be Stringham.”
Dennison swung around, pointing the pistol at Alex.
Alex stood up. Squaring his shoulders, he stared Andrews down. “How could I have arranged this? Andrews has been in charge since he shot me a fort night ago. I didn’t even know where the ship was anchored until I was brought up on deck moment ago.”
Dennison slowly turn the pistol back on Andrews.
A round of cannon fire pierced the air. The Destiny returned fire, smoke filling the deck.
Shots from the line of rowboats advancing on the ship rained down. Alex saw his chance. He let out a groan and grabbed at his chest. Reaching out, he clutched Carper’s shirt in his fist and fell over the side of the ship, taking Carper with him.
They came up under the cover of the bow. Carper stared at Alex with wide eyes.
“If you want to live, you must trust me. Take a deep breath and float out on your stomach. Captain Dennison and the crew must think we are dead.”
Carper swallowed hard and nodded.
Alex took a deep breath and plunged under water, pushing himself away from the ship.
“There ‘e is Cap’n.” Alex heard the crew shouting.
Dennison swore again.
“We’re being boarded. Give no quarter men!” Dennison shouted. Even from far below in the water, Alex could here the panic in Dennison’s voice.
Alex turned his head slightly and cracked an eye open. Everyone on board the Destiny was engaged. Alex carefully reached for Carper and pulled him back toward the cover of the ship.
There they waited until the fighting ended and Sir Richard came to find them.
Chapter 27
A knock sounded at the door and Hannah poked her head in. "The carriages have arrived to take you to the palace, Miss Clara. Miss Marleigh."
"Thank you, Hannah. We will be right down." Facing Abigail, Clara clutched her hands into tight fists as she put them to her chin. "We are attending a ball at the Royal Pavilion, Abi!" She let out a little squeal.
Abigail nodded, feigning an excitement she did not feel. How could she feel anything but angst? She had heard nothing from Sir Richard since leaving him in the alleyway. No word from Sir Richard meant no information about Alex. The uncertainty was driving her to near bedlam. How could she attend a ball and pretend to enjoy herself under such circumstances?
“Do you think Lord Ainsley will make his intensions known tonight, Abi?” Clara was practically vibrating with anticipation.
Abigail took a long steadying breath. Perhaps it would be best to think outside herself for the evening. She took her cousins hands and smiled. “I think it very likely. Everyone can see he is in love with you.”
Clara’s eyes lit up even brighter than they had been. “Do you really think so?”
“I do.” Abigail swallowed hard, forcing unpleasant thoughts of Alex and his fate from her mind.
There would certainly be not offers extended to Abigail this evening. She was resigned to the fact she would be marrying Sir Charles. The notion seemed inevitable now. Dread settled in her stomach. Eventually, the dread would subside, would it not?
They walked down the stairs and Clara stopped at the first-floor landing. Lord Ainsley leaned against an archway on the right side of the entryway. Abigail watched as his eyes widened and he pushed himself off the wall, his gaze never leaving Clara as she descended the last few steps.
Abigail’s chest tightened. Her resolve to focus on her cousin tonight was proving more difficult than she had imagined. When had she become such a terrible person, that she could not even be happy for Clara?
Lord Ainsley met them at the bottom. He extended an arm to each of them, but his eyes were only for Clara. Neither of them seemed capable of looking at anything else. And their smiles…Abigail’s cheeks hurt just from watching them.
Abigail moved forward, halting as they waited for the crowd in front of them to move forward. Lord Ainsley paused and looked between them both. “Lady Cartwright will be joining our little party. It seems Sir Richard was called away on a matter of business.”
Abigail closed her eyes, a new fear pushing into her thoughts. What if Sir Richard had been captured also? How would she ever forgive herself? How would she be able to look at Lady Cartwright again?
The crowd pushed forward.
Morton, called out names as the
carriages pulled up in front of the house. "Lord Ainsley. Your carriage is ready."
Abigail entered the grand ballroom. The largest chandeliers she had ever seen hung from the ceiling, thousands of candles dotting each one, illuminating the room. The curved ceiling was painted with intricate designs, each outlined in delicate gold paint.
Several sets of French doors on the opposite side of the room stood open, leading out to a terrace, the lush gardens beyond visible from where Abigail stood. An orchestra sat at one end of the large hall, playing a lovely Mozart piece.
"It is impressive, is it not, Abi?" Clara whispered in her ear.
Abigail nodded. "Do you not think it is too much? Too much light, too much gold—too much of everything."
Clara shook her head. “I think it glorious. Mama will surely faint when I tell her of our evening."
The room filled with people, the Garvey's house party being only a fraction of the guests in attendance. The air felt thick and warm. Everywhere Abigail turned, people crowded in. It was hard to breath. Her hands began to shake.
“This is quite the crush. I believe I will take a turn in the gardens.”
Clara cast worried eyes at Abigail. “Are you well, Abi? You look quite pale.”
“There are just so many people. I will return shortly.”
Clara reached out and put a hand on Abigail’s arm, her voice barely a whisper. “I am sure he is well. Sir Richard will see he is not harmed. He is likely on his way back to his estate as we speak.”
Abigail nodded her head, swallowing the tears threatening to spill.
She maneuvered her way through the crowd. Finally arriving at a set of doors. The breeze blew in and Abigail took long, deep breaths. A crowd of people shifted, nudging her from behind and pushing her the last few steps onto the terrace.
The short burst of afternoon rain left the gardens smelling damp and woody, while the foliage and flowers popped with color. If only she could spend the whole of the evening in the garden. Anything to bring her a moment of peace.
Miss Marleigh's Pirate Lord (Regency House Party: Havencrest Book 1) Page 18