Offers of leniency had a way of loosening a man’s tongue. The worse their crime, the faster they’d talk.
Even Gentleman Jack, as ruthless as he was, would be among the first to strike a bargain to save his own hide.
“Gideon must know who this rogue agent is. That’s why he was shot,” Aislin said, still holding on to William.
He put his arm around her, for she was unsteady on her feet. “Sit down, Aislin.”
She obeyed him without protest, taking a seat on the lone bench that looked as thin and worn as the patients who came to the infirmary.
Damn, she was hurting worse than she let on.
He remained beside her but turned to speak to the doctor. “As for my brother, how badly was he hurt?”
“Very bad, my lord. The shot missed his heart by a hair’s breadth. I’ll take you to the cave with me tonight, if you wish. I’m hoping he’ll turn up. He won’t listen to me, of course. But together we might convince him to go home with you. Or get him to reveal the identity of the traitor.”
“Assuming he shows up.”
The doctor nodded. “Indeed. It may all come to naught. But do you have a better plan for finding him?”
Aislin shot him a pleading look.
What was she trying to tell him? Trust the doctor? Or don’t? These past years had turned William hard. He trusted no one, had not even trusted Aislin until less than an hour ago when she’d been shot.
Indeed, these years of lost memories had changed him, and not for the better.
Perhaps Aislin would heal him in time.
Despite all the doubts and warnings about her, his heart had never wavered. He’d sought her out in his dreams. He’d come across England to find her. He’d wanted to protect her even while he worried she might kill him.
But he knew now that she would never hurt him.
He was in her soul as much as she was in his.
He shook his head in dismissal of those thoughts. He needed to concentrate his attention on the doctor. His convenient mention of Gideon, a cave, and a rendezvous on the night of a full moon all sounded like nonsense.
Still, had anything made sense this entire trip?
“What will you do?” Aislin asked, her voice alarmingly frail.
“Go to the cave, of course.”
She nodded. “While I ride home and do my part.”
William shook his head and groaned. “Look at yourself, Aislin. You’re too weak to stand on your own much less make it to the door. No, stay right here. I’ll come back for you after our visit to the cave.”
“Hopefully with Gideon,” she muttered.
“It is my greatest wish.” He took her hands in his. “But no matter what happens, know that I will always come back for you.”
Mother in heaven.
How had he ever suspected her of harming Gideon? Or of attempting to harm him?
He wanted to ride off with her right now, back to London, and away from Cornwall. But how could he? Her face was an alarming shade of ashen. A powdery, grayish-white that no one’s skin should ever look like. Her eyes appeared glazed, and she was listing like a ship about to upend in the water.
Damn it. He thought she might faint.
“Aislin, please stay here. Wait for me. I need you to remain safely out of the way.”
If the doctor proved to be the traitor, William did not want their confrontation to be anywhere near her. It would take nothing for the man to put a knife to her throat and hold her hostage.
If there was to be a fight, better to have it take place in the cave beneath Tintagel Castle. If William had to kill the doctor, he preferred to do it out of Aislin’s sight.
She thought he was wonderful and heroic, a knight from the legends of Camelot. But he wasn’t. He’d turned as cold and ruthless as Gentleman Jack. The only difference was, he’d never harm an innocent.
But shoot a traitor? He’d do it without blinking an eye and feel no remorse for it afterward.
Aislin was frowning at him again. “My lord–”
“You are not returning to Port Isaac.”
“How do you know this is what I intended to ask?”
“Isn’t it?” He knelt beside her and took her hand in his. It was cold and trembling. Not from fear, for the girl was fearless. Her wound. She’d lost too much blood.
A little color sprang into her pale cheeks. “Yes, it is. But you could not have known it.”
Yes, he could. He’d been dreaming of her for years, those dreams so constant lately, they’d driven him here. He knew her mind. He knew her heart.
He knew the sweetness of her lips.
Once they were married, he’d claim her body.
But her desire to return to Port Isaac troubled him. Not that he worried for a moment she would ever betray him to her father. This need to return was a sign of her want to protect her father. As much as she loathed him for the pirate he was, she loved him as his daughter. “Your father will ask a thousand questions the moment he sees you limping. You cannot return to the Farnsworth Inn. And what will you tell him? That I was at Tintagel Castle with you?”
“No! He needn’t know.”
“But he will find out.” The man already hated him enough to destroy his ship and all the innocent souls on it three years ago. Why would Gentleman Jack listen to reason now? “He’ll use you as a lure to trap me. I don’t care for myself, but I will not allow him to put you in harm’s way.”
“He won’t.”
“I’m not willing to risk it. If you are involved, and I am wounded or killed, then you will blame yourself for something that is still not your fault.” He kissed her lightly on the forehead. “I would not have you put through this torment again.”
The doctor eyed them both curiously.
William did not like the way this man was looking at Aislin.
Of course, he’d been a fool to kiss her. Even if it was a tame kiss on her brow. He’d also revealed his intention to marry her. “Aislin, we have time before the moon rise. Perhaps I will take you to Boscastle, after all.” It wasn’t perfect, but she’d be safer at the Pendragon Inn with the Sloanes and Mr. Musgrove to watch over her.
“Are you not listening to me?” Her huff of exasperation was unmistakably strong.
“I am, but I’m choosing to ignore you. Can you not see your situation? If you care nothing for your safety, then think of mine. My mind must be clear, and it won’t be if I am worried about you.”
“No need for the both of you to bicker about Port Isaac or Boscastle. Stay here, Miss Farnsworth, as originally suggested,” the doctor said, sounding quite amiable. “I’ll give you a sleeping draught to ease your pain while his lordship and I go in search of his brother.”
It was not what William wanted. He did not trust the doctor. In truth, he trusted no one in Cornwall, not even the Sloane family or Mr. Musgrove. But the doctor, least of all. There were so many holes in his story. If Gideon knew the identity of the traitor, then why did he choose to run off and not reveal it to this man who was supposedly a healer and an agent for the Crown?
Nor did he trust his explanation that Gideon had been delirious and rambling until suddenly finding the wherewithal to grab his clothes and disappear into the night. And yet, despite running off, Gideon was going to conveniently return to the cave at Tintagel Castle on the night of the full moon?
This was a trap; one he was willing to walk into because he needed to know what had happened to his brother.
Would William find his bones in the cave?
The doctor cast Aislin an indulgent smile. “I’ve seen you walking along the cliffside at Tintagel Castle. You seemed to be waiting for someone. You came almost every day, especially these past few weeks. I knew you were waiting for Gideon.”
Aislin nodded.
“Well, I think his lordship is correct. You must stay out of the way if there’s to be trouble. Do not return to Port Isaac. I’ll take his lordship to the cave where I found his brother. After that, we can all discuss wh
at to do next.”
William smothered the twinge of jealousy when the doctor held out his arm to Aislin, and she did not hesitate to take it. “Come, Miss Farnsworth. I’ve lowered the shade on the infirmary door to let everyone know I’m closed for the day. Go back in the examination room and rest. You won’t be disturbed. You’re looking very pale. Your leg must be on fire.”
“It is.”
William’s heart tugged. She sounded so weak; he was almost afraid to leave her tonight.
“I’ll give you something to dull the pain,” the doctor said before turning to William. “I had to put in quite a few stitches. The ball tore through too much of her leg to simply bandage it. She’s also lost a fair amount of blood.”
Aislin lightly touched William’s arm. “I wish I could go with you this evening.”
He laughed in exasperation. Lord, she was a stubborn girl. “Out of the question.”
She cast him a wan smile. “I’ll take that as a maybe.”
“It’s a no.”
“You’ll be safer here,” the doctor said. “There are too many steps to climb, my dear. You’re in no condition to be scampering about those slippery rocks with your leg in its present condition.”
To William’s surprise, she made no further protest. “Very well, I’ll stay.”
His heart leapt into his throat.
Why did he not believe her?
Chapter Eight
“William,” Aislin said in a foggy whisper, trying to sit up, but only managing to prop herself on one elbow.
“What is it, love?” He’d walked into the doctor’s examination room to look in on her before the doctor led him to the caves below Tintagel Castle. He dreaded what he might find.
The moon was full, a gigantic silver ball against the night sky. Stars shone brightly across the heavens.
He’d never seen such a sky in London.
However, it was a common enough sight on the sea whenever the fog wasn’t hovering, which it often was.
“Do you have a pistol to spare?”
Her eyes suddenly looked clear and sharp. “Aislin, what did you do with the medicine Dr. Jones gave you to drink?”
“I tossed it out the window when he wasn’t looking. Please, don’t tell him, William. It smelled vile. Besides, I don’t want to be asleep if anything happens.”
“Promise me you won’t follow us down the clifftops to the caves.”
She snapped her mouth shut and tossed him a glower that would have had him laughing were this business not so serious. “Give me one of your pistols,” she said, reaching out her hand.
He sighed, but after a moment’s hesitation, nodded. “Very well.” After all, she’d survived the last three years using her wits. She’d been doing dangerous work, helping Gideon bring down the pirates she thought had killed him.
He removed the pistol he kept tucked in the small of his back, hidden in a fitted holster within his jacket. Although he took care to dress in the fashion of a gentleman, trim vest, Savile Row shirt, silk cravat, buff breeches, and jacket of superfine, there were sheathes and holsters tucked everywhere in his boots and garments to hide his weapons.
Villains underestimated him despite his size and trimness of his body, believing him to be a London dandy. He wasn’t. He was angry as blazes and eager to rip this unknown traitor limb from limb. Then he’d start on Gentleman Jack.
“Do you know how to use it?” he muttered, handing over the weapon.
She nodded. “Trained since I was six years old. I was reliably hitting targets by the time I was seven.”
He hoped she wasn’t handing him a pile of hogswallop. But he saw the way she handled the pistol, weighing it in her palm, balancing it. Aiming it with proper care. “It’ll do,” she muttered.
He bent toward her and kissed her on the lips. “You have only the one shot. If you must use it, make it count.”
She tucked the weapon in the folds of her skirt, and then eased back and closed her eyes so that she appeared to be sleeping by the time the doctor joined them. “She ought to sleep through the night,” the doctor whispered, not wishing to disturb her. “We must be off before the tide comes in.”
“Very well. After you, Doctor.” William wondered again whether he could trust this man. He’d claimed to be working with other agents of the Crown. Of course, it stood to reason several of them would be active in the area. But where exactly?
And which of them could be trusted?
They walked under cover of night toward the ruins that ought to have looked gloomy but somehow managed to maintain their majestic splendor as moonlight spilled across the fragile stone towers and onto the water, creating a shimmering path upon the sea.
Faeries would dance upon such waters.
William silently chided himself for allowing his thoughts to wander. He forced his mind to the task at hand. Find Gideon. He didn’t care how ill his brother was. If he couldn’t walk out of the cave on his own two feet, William would carry him.
Assuming he was there.
Likely, he was not.
His heart lurched.
Perhaps all he’d find were Gideon’s bones.
He shook off the sudden chill that ran through him.
William had been up and down these steps recently enough to remember the steep parts, which stones were loose, and the way they’d curved down to the water below. The moon’s glow helped outline the castle and steps, but their path was still dangerously unlit, and the slightest misstep would send him tumbling.
He felt some relief that the doctor led the way.
He did not want the man to walk behind him, for out here it would take merely a push at just the right spot to send him falling to his death.
Since the tide was out, there was no roar of water rushing into the caves. Indeed, the soft lap of water against the beach sounded odd to his ears. It was a soothing sound, the gentle shush, shush of waves ebbing and flowing upon the sand.
Were circumstances different, he would bring Aislin here and make love to her under the stars. But this was yet another fanciful notion. Aislin would give herself to him, he knew. But she would not marry him.
And he would not have her outside of marriage.
He ached to have her, of course. But he would not accept anything less than to have her as his wife.
“Doctor,” he whispered. “Which cave?”
“That one.”
He pointed to the largest opening in the rock, one resembling the mouth of a dragon.
They’d brought torches with them, unlit while they were out in the open. But they’d have to light them now to make their way through the cave. After no more than three steps inside, they’d be plunged into an ink-black darkness.
William blinked to accustom his eyes to the sudden burst of flame as he and the doctor lit their torches. There were small pools of water on the uneven rock floor. The reds and golds of their torchlight reflected upon the water, giving the cave an ethereal glow.
He looked around.
The cave was big and dank, filled with the scent of salt water, algae, and moss.
The air was cool, almost frigid despite the heat of the day.
And yet, one could imagine Merlin down here, his sorcerer’s robes long and flowing as he raised his arms and uttered an incantation to wake his sleeping dragons.
The doctor settled himself on one of the flat rocks not far from the entrance of the cave. “Now, we wait. Make yourself comfortable, my lord. We may be here for a while.”
William sat on another of the flat rocks near the doctor, but also where he could keep an eye on the man as well as the cave opening. He made no effort to be discreet about his distrust. He would not let the man get behind him.
“How long before the tide comes in?” William asked, expecting that if this Welshman were the traitor, he’d make his move once the water began to rush into the cave.
“About two hours. If your brother is here, he’ll make his presence known before then.”
�
��Hmm.” Gad, it all sounded like stuff and nonsense. Why had he left Aislin alone? He’d given her a pistol, but it was only capable of one shot. What if she faced two assailants?
But who would dare harm her?
She was Gentleman Jack Farnsworth’s daughter.
A man would have to be insane to hurt her…and yet, someone had.
No, it had to be an errant shot, meant for him. Not her.
Still, he would not stop worrying until he had Aislin back in his arms.
He shifted uncomfortably upon the rock. They sat in silence for much of the hour, neither one caring to speak. Then suddenly, William felt a slight change to the air, and the short hairs at the nape of his neck began to stand on end.
Was it Gideon?
He rose, pistol in hand.
The doctor rose along with him and signaled for William to keep quiet. He frowned back at the man. Whoever this new arrival was, he’d know others were here because of the torchlight.
The man stepped closer.
William recognized the familiar face. Not Gideon.
“Good evening, Mr. Worthington.” It was the gentleman from the room across the hall from his at the Pendragon Inn. “I’m surprised to see you here. Then again, I suppose you’re surprised to find me alive.”
His laugh was harsh. “You are like a cat with nine lives, my lord.”
“I hope not to use them up this evening.” He glanced from one man to the other. The doctor now had a pistol trained on him. William silently chided himself. He’d been sailing the seas as a privateer the past few years, and yet he’d forgotten all he’d learned.
Don’t trust a stranger.
Kill him before he kills you.
At the very least, he ought to have knocked the doctor unconscious when he’d had the chance. Then it would have been one-on-one, him against Worthington. Much better odds, especially now that both men had their pistols leveled on him.
“You should not have returned to Cornwall, Lord Whitpool. Lower your weapon, if you please.”
“I’m afraid I cannot. If either of you fires at me, I will get one of you, at least. But I’m certain we can reach some accommodation.” William did not bat an eyelash. “Who are you really, Mr. Worthington? And what have you done with my brother? Will you do me the favor of telling me what has happened to him? I’m going to die by your hand in another moment. Where’s the harm in revealing how you killed him?”
The Midnight Hour: All-Hallows’ Brides Page 13