by Jody Hedlund
“You can’t walk home unattended,” Polly protested, glancing out the windows to the darkness of the winter evening.
“Of course I can. It’s only a short distance—”
“I’ll accompany Susanna,” John offered.
“I don’t want to trouble you or make you miss any of the party—”
John cut Susanna off with a narrowed look. “It won’t trouble me.”
For a moment the two seemed to be having a private, unspoken battle. Then finally Susanna sighed. “Very well. I shall accept your offer.” And with that she turned and stalked across the room.
Polly wanted to chastise Susanna for her lack of manners and ungratefulness. But John rose from the settee with an unruffled grin.
“Don’t miss me too much while I’m gone,” he said in a tone that made her insides flip, and before she could find a witty response, he spun away and strode across the room, the suit coat stretching to display his strong shoulders and the power of his upper arms. He moved with confidence and toughness, a man who could easily defend himself and overcome an opponent in a fight.
Only when he reached the door did he wink at her over his shoulder, the kind of wink that said he knew she’d been watching him.
“I vow,” she whispered and covered her cheeks with her hands, “if I’m not more careful, John Newton will be my undoing.”
For a while she did her best to mingle with Felicity and her other friends. When Billy finally joined them a short time later, he provided a distraction as well. Soon enough Felicity started the game Find the Ring, and they all sat in a circle and held on to a piece of string long enough to go around the inner circumference. As they passed a ring on the string from one hand to the next, a player stood in the center and tried to discover whose hand contained the ring.
They completed several other games before Susanna and John finally returned, their cheeks red from the cold and their eyes sparkling. From his spot next to her, Billy studied them intently. “Where have you two been?” The lilt to his voice implied the two had been away having a romantic tryst.
Polly was surprised when neither denied his insinuation. Susanna squeezed John’s arm and whispered in his ear. In return John gave a half grin to the crowd that seemed to confirm Billy’s assumption.
Polly wanted to believe he was only playacting in a role of Susanna’s making, but a tiny part of her was unsettled at the thought that they’d been together.
During the game of Blind Man, Polly plastered herself to the wall near the door. Felicity had insisted on extinguishing the lamps, closing the grate on the fireplace, and locking the shutters so that they had to play in the dark. Only a tiny sliver of moonlight came in through the crack in the shutters. It wasn’t enough light to see where anyone was; however, titters and hushed laughter gave away locations.
“There you are.”
She jumped at the sound of John’s voice so close. Close enough that she could feel the warmth of his breath in the hollow part of her ear.
“You’ve been avoiding me since I returned.” The words came out soft and feathery against her skin.
She shook her head. “I’m sure you’re mistaken.”
His shoulder leaned into hers. “Susanna and I only kissed, that’s all.”
“You did?” Her question came out louder than she’d intended.
John laughed lightly. “No. Of course not.”
She relaxed against the wall. But he tugged her forward in the dark, sliding along until they were wedged into a corner. For a long moment they were both silent, listening for anyone else who might be nearby.
Then John’s voice was near her ear again. “I told you that you were jealous.” At the cockiness of his tone, she gave him a playful push. He feigned falling away from her and grabbed her hand as though needing it to keep his balance.
As his fingers closed around hers, she sucked in a sharp breath at the contact. He resumed his position next to her in their hiding spot, this time their intertwined hands resting between them.
At his nearness she was rendered immobile.
“I like that you’re jealous,” he whispered.
“I’m not—”
“I can admit that I’m jealous whenever I see you with Billy.” His confession stopped her denial.
Was he teasing her again? She didn’t think so. His voice was much too serious. “You needn’t be jealous.”
“Aye, but I am.” He pressed his face into her hair and took a deep breath. “You’re beautiful. And Billy knows you’re a treasure just as much as I do.”
Beautiful? A treasure? Was she dreaming his words? Her pulse doubled its speed, and her legs liquefied like melting snow. Without the solidness of the wall bracing her, she would have collapsed.
“And just so you know”—his words brushed the hair near her ear—“I would never consider kissing Susanna.”
“That’s good to know.” Her whisper felt incoherent.
“There’s only one woman I’m considering kissing.”
She shivered, whether from his implication or his proximity, she knew naught. All she knew was that she needed this sweet torment to end before she swooned. She needed to pull away from him and return to their safe camaraderie.
At that moment the door of the drawing room swung open with a crashing bang, and light from the hallway pierced the room. Polly jumped away from John. For an instant he held fast to her hand, but at her jerk he released her.
Felicity and the other guests complained loudly, and within moments the lanterns had been relit. There were several other couples standing rather close together, guilt coloring their faces. At the sight of them, Polly tried to put even more distance between herself and John, but the settee in front of them prevented her escape.
“We have a traitor in our midst,” boomed a hard voice.
Filling the door was a burly man whose body was nearly as wide as the opening. At the sight of the wooden peg leg that started at one of his knees, Polly recognized Billy’s uncle, Charlie Baldock, the leader of the biggest smuggling gang in the Kent countryside. Polly had seen him from time to time over the years during her visits at the Baldocks’ home, and she’d always done her best to stay away from him. She was embarrassed to admit that his booming voice and strange leg had always frightened her.
Even now that she was older, something about him intimidated her. And the gossip surrounding him made him even scarier. Her father hadn’t meant for her to overhear his latest tale about the dockyard worker who’d been accused of stealing two gunnysacks of contraband tea. The smugglers had found him, stripped him, and then whipped him until he confessed to the whereabouts of tea. The battered body had been discovered later in a ditch. Dead. Of course, no one was willing to step forward and indict Charlie and his gang for the crime.
With an ominous thump, thump against the wooden floor, Charlie took several steps forward until he was inside the room and standing on the carpet. “Someone here was listening to something they shouldn’t have been.”
“Now, Charlie,” Mr. Baldock’s calmer voice came from the hallway. He was a thinner man than his brother, more darkly handsome, like Billy. “I told you that you can’t make that assumption. Anyone in the area could have learned of the whereabouts of the tea.”
“No!” Charlie retorted. “It was one of these young people. I’m sure of it.”
A hard knot coiled in Polly’s chest. She didn’t dare look at Susanna for fear of bringing her unwanted attention, but something told her that Susanna was involved in this new situation. Hadn’t she learned from the last escapade that she was flirting too closely with danger? Although the farmer hadn’t come back again, Polly wasn’t able to walk the roads of Chatham without fear that he was lurking, waiting to capture her and make her pay for what she’d done.
Charlie Baldock was attired in a tight suit and a simple bob-style wig. He carried a hat under one arm and walked with a cane in the other. As he hobbled further into the room, his furrowed gaze jumped from one guest to
the next until it finally came to rest on her.
He lifted his cane and pointed it at her. “You’re one of George Catlett’s children, aren’t you?”
Polly was tempted to shrink back. But she reminded herself that she wasn’t at fault for anything. “Yes, I’m Polly Catlett—”
Billy stepped forward and squared off with his uncle. “Don’t accuse her of giving away the location of the tea. She would never do that.”
“She listened to our meeting and then ran home and told her daddy,” Charlie said in a tone that abided no further arguing.
The coil in Polly’s chest cinched tighter.
“Polly is the sweetest girl I know.” Billy spoke again, his voice wavering just slightly, showing her the courage it cost him to stand up to his uncle. “She would never involve herself in matters that don’t concern her.”
Billy’s glance cast her a silent plea to agree with him.
She nodded, grateful for his defense. “I’ve been here at the party all evening.” Again she had to refrain from looking at Susanna, who hadn’t budged from her spot in one of the wing chairs near the fireplace.
“If not her,” Charlie said in a growl, “then who?”
Billy turned then and looked directly at John. “Why don’t you ask Newton here. Apparently he disappeared for a while after he first arrived. Maybe he heard the news and went straight to Mr. Catlett.”
“Of course Mr. Newton wouldn’t do such a thing,” Polly spoke before thinking. Once the words were out, she prayed they were true, that Susanna hadn’t unwittingly involved John.
John held himself tall and stiff. His chin rose a notch, and his eyes sparked with defiance. If anyone in the room looked the part of a troublemaker, John did. Even though he wore her father’s suit, there was still something slightly wild spirited about him that no amount of grooming could hide.
She waited for him to deny Billy’s accusation, to make some excuse about how he had only gone out with Susanna to have a few minutes alone with her—at least that’s what she desperately hoped he’d say. But he remained silent.
With a low growl, Charlie started toward their corner, his peg leg tapping ominously on the carpet like the prelude to an explosion.
She was surprised when John took hold of her arm and propelled her away from him and toward Billy. Billy readily maneuvered her out of harm’s way.
“Who are you?” Charlie demanded as he bore down upon John. “And why are you interfering with my business?”
“You have no proof that I interfered,” John said in an equally hard voice.
“All I know is that nobody knew the location of my tea until this party started tonight. It was safe and sound, and now it’s been confiscated by Mr. Catlett and one of his officers in training.”
“Maybe you have a traitor in your ranks.”
“My men are loyal.” Charlie’s voice dropped dangerously. “I pay them to be loyal.”
John shrugged. “Maybe you aren’t paying them enough.”
“Or maybe you’re a fool to think you can tamper with my affairs.” Before anyone could stop him, Charlie swung his cane upward so that it caught John between his legs. The hit was swift and severe, doubling John over with a grunt. Charlie didn’t wait for John to catch his breath but instead lifted his cane again, this time higher, striking John across his bent back. The crack of the cane reverberated through the silent room.
Polly cried out in protest at the same time that Billy’s father in the doorway called out for Charlie to stop, even as the big man whacked John again, this time across his shoulder. Susanna too was out of her chair and would have rushed to John, except the Polly caught her arm and held her back.
“Stop!” Susanna yelled, her features contorted with both anger and fear. “It isn’t his fault!”
John lifted his gaze and caught Polly’s. Though it was brief, it was long enough to see the pain in his eyes. And something more, a silent appeal to keep Susanna quiet. To let him take the blame.
Although she didn’t want him to be hurt, her grip on Susanna tightened. “Hush, Susanna.”
But Susanna shook off Polly’s hold. “It’s my fault.”
Charlie’s cane stopped midway down toward John’s back.
“Don’t listen to her,” John said. “She had nothing to do with it.”
“I am entirely to blame,” Susanna insisted. “If anyone deserves a caning, let it be me.”
Charlie stared from John to Susanna and then back. He gave a low growl of frustration. Then with a swift jerk, he brought the cane down upon John’s back again. The blow sent John to his knees.
Susanna cried out, and Polly struggled to restrain her. Polly doubted that Charlie would go so far as to cane Susanna. In fact, Polly doubted Charlie believed Susanna; likely he attributed her confession to a desire to protect the man she cared about. Even so, Polly’s grip on her aunt tightened.
“Charlie,” Mr. Baldock said, approaching his brother from behind. “You can’t beat up the boy. You’ll get me in trouble, and then what will you do without me here to help you?”
Mr. Baldock glanced around the room, particularly at the young women cowering against one another and the other men who were fidgeting uncomfortably as if they’d rather be anywhere else in Chatham at that moment than in the same room as the notorious Charlie Baldock.
“Someone is lying to me,” Charlie shouted. “And I aim to find out the truth. One way or another.”
John sneered. “If you want to find the biggest liar and thief in this room, then take a look at yourself—”
Charlie whacked John again.
John gritted his teeth, clearly holding back a groan of agony.
“Charlie, Charlie.” Mr. Baldock’s tone grew more placating, and he hesitantly placed his arm across Charlie’s shoulder as though to comfort him. “These are all just young people. Don’t be too hard on them. We don’t really know who’s to blame.”
Charlie glared at John, and Polly prayed John wouldn’t say anything more. She realized now he was trying to protect Susanna, and she was grateful to him for that. But he was only getting himself into more trouble.
“You better watch your back, boy,” Charlie ground out before finally allowing Mr. Baldock to usher him from the room. No one spoke as his stilted steps faded down the hallway. “His blabbing will cost me!” Charlie roared. “That tea was valued upwards of five hundred pounds.”
Mr. Baldock’s response was calm. “I’ve been told we can expect a shipment of Flanders lace this week.”
When finally another door closed with a loud reverberation, Billy turned to Polly and exhaled a shaky breath. “Are you all right?”
She nodded but was watching John attempt to straighten his back, his face contorting. The others in the room were murmuring among themselves and moving toward the door, clearly anxious to leave the party before Charlie came charging into the room again.
“I’ll walk you and Susanna home,” Billy offered apologetically.
With tears pooling in her eyes, Susanna captured a half sob in her hand and stumbled toward John.
“I’m sorry about my uncle.” Billy said. “I shouldn’t have said anything about Newton. It’s just that I didn’t want Charlie hurting you.”
Polly nodded, feeling suddenly numb. Both Billy and John had only sought to protect her and Susanna. But she couldn’t ignore the truth. Susanna had overheard Cutthroat Charlie talking about the smuggled tea. Polly had no doubt Susanna had spilled the mead upon her gown to conjure an excuse to leave the party without arousing suspicion. And then she’d run home to tell Father. In the process she’d dragged John into the danger.
“Will you forgive me, Polly?” Billy reached out as though he wanted to touch her face but then let his hand drop to his side.
“Of course I will.” She offered him as much of a smile as she could. It wasn’t generous, but it seemed to be enough for Billy, who exhaled a breath with obvious relief.
Susanna helped John into his coat. With Billy
on one side and Polly on the other, they managed to lead him up the hill to the Catletts’ home. When Billy was gone and they were in the kitchen in the lowest level of the Catlett house, Polly’s father helped settle John into one of the chairs at the servants’ table. Susanna collapsed into another and laid her head down on the table, her body shaking with soft sobs.
Thankfully the servants were already retired to their dormer rooms, and the kitchen was empty of prying eyes. Her father helped John take off his shirt, and her mother began making a poultice. Polly figured they had forgotten about her, or they would have demanded that she leave rather than be exposed to John’s half-naked state. As it was, they were too busy asking questions and tending to him to pay attention to her standing against the wall.
“It’s my fault,” Susanna said, wiping her cheeks dry with her sleeve. “I’m the one who overheard. If anyone should suffer, it should be me.”
John shook his head and grimaced at the pain even the tiniest motion caused him. “Nay. Let the suspicion fall upon me. Better me than either you or Polly.”
“I hope you finally learned a lesson tonight, Susanna,” Mother said, stirring flour and comfrey together. “Your rash actions have consequences. That’s what Mother and Father have been trying to tell you all along.”
Susanna glanced at the swollen red welts on John’s back that gleamed in the candlelight and then shuddered. “I only wanted to do the right thing.”
“And it was the right thing,” Father assured her as he laid a cool cloth across another of the ugly welts. “But you didn’t tell me that Charlie Baldock was there, or I wouldn’t have allowed you to return for the evening.”
“Susanna is too young to be involved in such things,” Mother protested.
Father didn’t disagree, but neither did he chide Susanna. He must have concluded that her own misery at John’s condition was chastisement enough.
Apparently Mother wasn’t convinced of the same and stopped mixing the poultice to give Susanna her sharpest glare. “Young ladies your age should be concerned about having suitors and training for marriage. Not worrying about freeing slaves or disempowering smuggling operations. Think about the trouble you could have brought upon Polly if Mr. Baldock had decided to go after her instead of John.”