The Thief's Daughter

by Victoria Cornwall

  ‘So I am to understand that a woman, who likes to masquerade as a boy, has the urge to do the right thing?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Who happens to be out when a smuggling run is taking place?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Why did you listen at my door when I had company?’

  ‘That was wrong and I am sorry.’

  ‘Perhaps it was not the right thing to do.’

  Jenna fiddled with her blanket. ‘You have missed your calling. You should be a barrister.’ Jack said nothing. He did not find her retort amusing. ‘You are right,’ Jenna conceded, ‘it was not, but I meant no harm.’

  His heart softened a little at her admission. ‘And yesterday you followed me again.’

  She glanced up at him guiltily. ‘You make it sound worse than it was.’

  ‘Perhaps you were keeping watch for the smuggler’s ship.’

  ‘I did not know they were dropping off goods until I saw it arrive.’

  ‘So it was me that you followed. You should watch what your shoes carry into the house. Your mistake does not make you a good spy.’

  ‘I wondered where you were going in the middle of the night, no more.’

  Jack leaned forward. ‘Take care,’ he said, allowing his gaze to wander over her hair as he mocked her reply. ‘I may begin to think you have a concern for my welfare.’

  ‘It was not a concern for your welfare that drove me,’ she retorted.

  Their faces had become so close he could smell the salt wind in her hair. How had he never noticed before? Perhaps tonight’s events and her vulnerability were making a romantic fool of him. Her eyes, which had blazed with anger only moments before, turned from rosewood to the colour of black molasses as she looked at him. Beware, Jack. He moved back, a little shaken.

  An uneasy silence descended while they mulled over their thoughts. Jack threw another log onto the fire; it was going to be a long night.

  ‘So, you were surprised to see the ship arrive?’ he asked her, breaking the tension.

  Jenna nodded.

  ‘Is that the reason you went out tonight? To see if the smuggled goods would be collected?’

  ‘No, it was not. Was it yours?’

  Ignoring her question, Jack let out a humourless laugh. ‘Perhaps you were taking a midnight stroll? I hear it is good for the soul.’

  Jenna got up. ‘I’m going to bed if you are going to mock me.’

  He grabbed her hand as she walked past and halted her. It felt soft and small in his tense grasp. He loosened his fingers and held her more gently.

  ‘Then tell me the truth so I can believe you.’

  ‘I went for the same reason as everyone else went there tonight. I went to take part and earn some money.’

  ‘Not everyone, Jenna,’ he said, drawing her back to face him. ‘I did not. I hoped you would be truthful.’

  Jenna knelt down beside his chair. The blanket fell from her shoulders, but she made no attempt to reach for it. ‘It is the truth, Jack,’ she insisted.

  He should reprimand her for calling him by his name, he thought, but it had sounded too good on her lips to stop her saying it again. He looked into her almond shaped eyes, searching for the truth in her words. If he was not careful he could lose himself in their depths; it was best to remain wary. He looked down at his hand, which still held hers, and quickly released it, before he could draw it to his lips. The questioning began again.

  ‘Do you have any connections with the local smuggling gang?’

  Jenna looked at her own hand and he wondered if it felt cold and lost without his. She looked confused and frowned, as if she was trying to remember what he had just asked her.

  ‘No … no, I do not. I know people who have smuggled before in the past, but not I. In fact, I have never broken the law before tonight.’

  Jack listened, but he did not believe her.

  ‘It is true,’ she urged. ‘I slipped in line with the horses and no one noticed me. When I got to the beach I carried the goods as they were brought onto the shore. My brother told me that landed goods are not left long for fear they are discovered and that if I was a runner on the beach I would be paid at the end.’

  Jack’s eyes narrowed. ‘The man who paid you, what did he look like?’

  ‘He had a hat and a beard, much like the others. I did not look closely. I did not want him to see my face.’

  Jack nodded. ‘A wise thought,’ he conceded, getting up and standing before the fire. ‘Did you hear anyone speak about who had financed the trip?’

  ‘It was rare for anyone to speak. Everyone knew what they were doing and there was no need for conversation. I followed everyone else and hoped no one would notice me.’

  ‘You had luck on your side tonight, Jenna. Do you have any idea what they would have done to you if you were discovered?’

  ‘I would rather not think about it.’

  She looked frightened and Jack had to fight the urge to comfort her. He could not risk taking her in his arms, not how she was now, naked beneath a flimsy sheet of cotton. He had the feeling one embrace and he would be lost.

  ‘I blame myself. I assume my dismissal of you and losing a good wage prompted you to take this risk. Well, it is over and you are safe. You can remain working for me so there is no need for you to be so foolhardy again.’ He picked up her clothes. ‘We must burn these before they are discovered.’

  Jenna stood and grabbed her clothes.

  ‘My money …’ she said, searching her coat pocket.

  Jack looked down on her wearing nothing but her nightgown, her blanket left discarded in a pool of cloth at her feet.

  She opened her fist to show the coins, proving what she had just told him was true. ‘You can’t burn my clothes. I will need them for next time.’

  ‘There will be no next time,’ he said, pulling the clothes from her grasp, ‘as next time you may be found out.’ He threw them into the fire. Jenna immediately tried to rescue them, but Jack held her back. She was no match for him. They watched in silence, her body encased by his muscular arms, which held her tightly beneath her breasts. The cloth sizzled and steamed, before finally igniting into flames.

  ‘I have to go again,’ whispered Jenna so quietly he could hardly hear her. ‘I have no choice.’

  She felt so soft in his arms, he could feel her pain and worry in every tremble of her body. Jack released her, took her by the shoulders and made her look at him.

  ‘Have to? Why do you have to?’

  ‘I have to pay off my brother’s creditors so he can leave the debtors’ prison.’

  ‘Your brother, Silas? Has he asked you to do this?’

  Jenna nodded.

  Jack gave her the blanket and raised his hands to the fire to pretend to warm them. ‘Your brother is more reckless with his sister’s welfare than he is with his money.’ It was all making sense to him now. ‘He told you what to do and what the ship’s arrival meant when you saw him in Goverek, didn’t he?’

  Jenna nodded. ‘I had to do it. I owe him my life.’

  ‘You owe him nothing. He is a careless, selfish rogue and he has put you in great danger. Why do these men deserve such devotion from you?’

  ‘Men?’ she asked, confused at the sudden change in conversation.

  Jack turned away from the fire and looked at her.

  ‘Why does a woman sacrifice so much for an unworthy man? There are good men out there who are far more worthy and would never ask so much of them.’

  ‘Silas is my brother and I love him. Who are the other men you talk of?’

  ‘Your husband was no better and hanged for his crimes, yet you loved him so much that you risked your person to ensure he did not suffer.’

  ‘I risked my person to grant his last wish and—’

  ‘—put yourself at risk of being beaten by a jeering crowd. You are not a foolish woman, you knew the danger you put yourself in.’

  ‘—and in doing so granted my own wish.’

 
Jack’s eyes narrowed again. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I spent every day of my marriage in fear of him. He lifted his fist to me more times than I can remember. There was many a day I wished him dead. You think I was a foolish woman blinded by devotion and love. You are wrong. The hangman granted my wish too. By hanging from his legs I only hastened it.’

  Jack sat watching the flames die in the grate. Jenna had gone to bed, but the floorboards creaking above his head told him that she remained awake as she restlessly moved about. It was understandable for sleep to elude them both; it was hard to settle after such a night as they had just experienced.

  Jack mulled over the situation he found himself in. Jenna’s presence, as his housekeeper, was initially a pleasant diversion for him and nothing more. Somehow, in a very short space of time, he had come to care for her more deeply than an employer should for his servant. His growing feelings for her had unnerved him, so it was easy to contain them behind a wall of suspicion, especially when his friend, Enoch, had laid the first brick.

  Tonight, however, her honesty and bravery had torn it down and he was forced to face the fact that the concern he felt for her was more than an employer’s obligation. Concern for her safety, anger at her brother, even admiration for her foolhardy bravery could be attributed to any friendship. And his desire for her body was just a natural urge any man would suffer when presented with a pretty woman. Yet all these emotions paled in comparison for the feelings of wretchedness he felt when she confessed her marriage was an unhappy one. Jack sat before the fire watching its flames lick the air, yet seeing none of it.

  Until today, he had thought of her as a devoted wife who risked her own safety for the man she loved. He had believed it to be a marriage and bond that would still continue today, had it not been torn asunder by the long arm of the law. He thought her late husband was a memory, which would grow in perfection with each passing day. Instead Henry was a nightmare and Jack had not been there to protect her.

  He had no reason to feel so wretched at her confession, but he could not call the emotion any other name. She deserved to be loved by a man who would give his life for her, not try to beat her life from her. A man who appreciated her qualities from the first day he saw her – a man such as him. Jack frowned as something stirred within him. He knew what it was, recognition that his feelings for her were even stronger than he had dared to admit. It felt like a door had opened that he did not even think existed and by doing so it changed the landscape about him. He must calm his thoughts. Just because a door had opened it did not mean it was right to walk through it. Soon he would have to move on again and leave her behind. It was not the time to be falling in love.

  He turned his attention to the other man in her life. At least he could try to protect her from Silas’s problems. Her brother’s debts would hang around like a foul smell until they were brought to an end. She had already risked her life for the ruffian and she planned to do it again. He would be able to move on more easily if he knew she was free of the obligation.

  Jack thought of her sitting before the fire. She looked so fragile in her nightgown with her blanket slipping from her shoulders. It was hard to believe that earlier in the night she was fearlessly working as hard as any man. Jack rubbed his temple to erase the image of her at his feet. Best to concentrate on what she had said, he told himself.

  She told him she had been paid on the beach – an unusual method, but it made sense nonetheless. Only those who turned up and stayed the full night would be present to receive their money, and soon after everyone would disperse and disappear. Jack did not believe the top man would risk his life to be on the beach, but perhaps identifying and following the man who made the payment would lead Jack to him. Jack realised what he must do to keep Jenna safe and if there was an added benefit of finding the man that he sought, that was all to the good. It was time to talk to her.

  The house was quiet and the floorboards above ceased to creak. The other rooms in the house remained chilled as the heat of the fire had not quite reached the farthest corners. He mounted the stairs quickly and went to her door. It was shut. Best that it stayed that way.

  ‘Jenna, are you still awake?’ he asked softly, addressing the grain of the wood.

  ‘I am.’ Her voice was quiet and far off. She was in her bed and preparing for sleep, he realised.

  ‘If your brother’s debts are paid and he is released, will his hold over you be gone?’

  ‘He will always be my brother, but I will owe him no debt of gratitude. I have told him not to look for help from me again.’

  ‘What has he done for you to owe him so much?’ he asked.

  Jenna did not reply.

  ‘If you don’t wish me to know then so be it, but blood should not tie you to someone who is prepared to let you risk your life for them. There are better bonds to make and live by. Bonds that nurture and strengthen you – not put you at risk.’

  ‘I know that more than most,’ she said. Her voice was nearer now, so close that only the door came between them. Her voice sounded gentle but sad. He could not help feeling it was a waste and should not be so.

  ‘I will take your place and do the next smuggling run,’ Jack said quietly. ‘You can have my payment and some money I have saved so you can pay off your brother’s creditors. He will be free to live his life, but more importantly, so will you.’

  The door opened a little; her dark brown eyes looked at him through her tousled hair. She brushed it away with a hand.

  ‘You would do that for me?’ she asked.

  He nodded and he found himself smiling at her surprised expression.

  ‘But you can’t …’

  ‘I can.’

  ‘Why would you?’

  ‘Why would I not?’

  ‘I won’t let you.’

  ‘You have no choice in the matter.’

  There was a short silence as she looked for signs of jesting. She found none, yet remained wary.

  ‘What do you expect in return?’

  ‘A simple “thank you” will suffice.’ She frowned at him, confused. Perhaps a little explanation would help her to believe him. ‘I don’t want you to put yourself at risk. I could tie you up and lock you in the house, but that would cause more problems than it would solve. Although I could be persuaded if you think it would be better.’ She lifted an eyebrow at him. ‘No? Well, this appears the only way I can stop you then.’

  ‘You are willing to put yourself in danger for me?’

  ‘You sound like no one ever has.’

  ‘No one ever has. How can I trust you?’

  ‘I see why you are wary of my offer, but it is made in good faith and I am going to do it, whether you want me to or not.’

  She covered her mouth with her hands as her dark eyes, filled with incredulous hope, watched him over the steeple of her fingers. Suddenly the door was opened wider and her arms were about his neck.

  ‘Oh, Jack, thank you. You are such a good, kind man.’ He felt her against his chest, her breath on his neck, her hair on his cheek. Initially shocked by her response, he now allowed himself to close his eyes and savour it, clenching his fists at his sides to help him fight the urge to hold her in return. He was a man, and like any man he wanted to touch her curves beneath the gown, but he knew if he did, he would not want to stop. It was not the right time to enter those uncharted waters; best free her of her brother so they could start afresh before it was time for him to leave.

  ‘It is getting late,’ he said, in a strangely husky voice he did not recognise. She let her arms drop and he stepped back, letting his gaze wander over her before he turned to leave.

  ‘Forgive me. I should not have addressed you by your name.’

  ‘Do not concern yourself. It no longer seems right to call me sir if I am to break the law for you.’ He looked to the window. ‘Dawn will soon be breaking so we had best get some sleep. Tomorrow is a new beginning, as I would rather forget about tonight.’

  Jenna retr
eated behind her door to watch him stride away. He knew she was watching him, and thought he heard her speak, but when he turned the door was already closed and the passageway empty. A figment of his imagination, he told himself as he continued on his way. Yet if the words were uttered, there was hope for them after all, for he fancied that she said, If Henry had been half the man you are, I would have felt truly blessed.

  Chapter Seven

  Silas’s eyes narrowed as he studied the men around the table. Jacob Timmons sat to his right, a willowy man, who despite carrying himself with the grace and erect carriage of a gentleman, now found himself in a damp hole full of paupers. However, he was polite and quiet, and was ridiculously pleased to have been invited to play. With the enthusiasm of a kitten, he had joined them at the table, but soon his fingers were trembling as he held his battered cards and glanced nervously about him. Were these signs hinting at his hand? Silas knew better.

  Silas learnt early on that Timmons had a fondness for gin. His love affair with the spirit had whittled away his money and finally his creditors could stomach no more of his promises. His family refused to visit him and reunite him with his liquid friend and now he was suffering badly for his abstinence. If his trembling fingers did not give him away, his peculiar body odour did. Silas had smelt the foul smell of poisons escaping the body before and he knew how hard it was to concentrate when your body craved drink. It would be easy to take advantage of such a situation and Silas had spent his life looking for opportunities like this.

  Opposite him was John, a nervous fellow who went out of his way to avoid confrontation. Not an easy thing to do when you live cheek by jowl with men who have nothing left to lose, but meek and mild John somehow managed it and Silas had noticed. He would be an easy man to cheat as he did not have the will or courage to challenge.

  On his left sat a stocky man who was aptly named Smithy. He was a blacksmith by trade, whose means of income had been destroyed overnight by a single episode of apoplexy. His sudden collapse allowed a spark from the furnace to grow unchecked and although he was saved from the fire, his business was not. If this had not been enough to destroy the man, on escaping the grips of death he found his vision greatly changed. Now he could only see directly in front of his eyes, and everything else was black. Although Silas showed concern on hearing of his condition, he stored the information away to be used on a day such as this. His peripheral blindness gave Silas room to swap his cards, which he did frequently with a smile on his lips and a slip of the hand. Yes, he had got to know these men well before suggesting a game. His parents would have been proud of him, and, after all, who could blame him for using the information to his advantage in order to win?