The Earl's Dangerous Assignment

by Ginny Hartman

  Captain Wallace took advantage of her weakened state, jerking her arms behind her back before she had the chance to resist. Using a piece of rope, he tied her wrists together, the scratchy chord biting harshly into her smooth skin.

  “Let me go,” she wailed, struggling to break free from his grasp, though she was unsuccessful in her attempts. “I had no idea what was in that letter, I promise.”

  “Your lies are too little, too late. You will stay here,” he ordered as he shoved her into a dark closet, “until the authorities arrive and can mete out your punishment.”

  With no further words, he slammed the door closed. Sophia heard the click of a lock turn and knew there was no way for her to escape now. Curling into a ball, she began sobbing loudly, though she knew no one would hear or care. It had been an enormous mistake coming to Cornwall and an even bigger mistake to seek out Captain Wallace for assistance.

  Now here she was, locked in a tiny closet and about to be turned in for treason. Fear consumed her at the thought. How could she ever get out of this predicament?

  She cried long and loud, letting the fear consume her until finally, the tears dried up, and she was left in silence with the most disturbing thought of all; Samuel didn't love her, as he claimed. He'd only toyed with her emotions in an attempt to disarm her, to figure out if she were truly a traitor to The Crown.

  His betrayal stung worse than any disappointment she'd ever experienced. Without Samuel on her side, she knew she had nothing.

  Something was wrong, he could feel it. Samuel had been watching the pub for hours, and he was certain he'd never seen Sophia exit once she'd entered. He was all too aware of the fact that, even dressed as a boy, her alluring curves could not be fully hidden. His mind started imagining all the horrible things that could've befallen her as he galloped towards the pub and quickly tethered his horse to a post.

  The loud laughter of drunken men assaulted his ears as he entered, along with a thick cloud of pungent smoke. Ignoring anything but his desire to find Sophia, he advanced inside. His eyes scanned every single occupant with hope, but he only came up disappointed when he didn't spot Sophia.

  “Damn the woman,” he cursed.

  He was so distracted by his task; he failed to notice the serving wench in his path until he nearly barreled over the top of her. Reaching out to right her, he looked down at her annoyed face and mumbled a quick, “Sorry.”

  “Aye, it be alright, I suppose. Can I be of any service to ye?” The annoyance quickly changed to eagerness as she brushed her body up against him.

  Feeling repulsed, he took a step back and said, “Bring me an ale.”

  Disappointment clouded her eyes, but she quickly scurried along. Samuel made his way to a table full of sailors and without permission, sat down in the only empty seat available. Conversation ceased at once as the hardened men turned curious stares on him.

  “Good day, men. I was wondering if you could be of assistance,” Samuel said with forced cheerfulness to ease the awkwardness of the encounter.

  When none of the men replied, he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out several coins. Slapping them on the table in front of him, he tried again. “I'm wondering where I can find Captain Wallace.”

  It was amazing how eager the men were to talk now. All of them started chattering at once, but one of them, a squat man with a gnarled black beard silenced them all with a growl. “He's returned to his ship.”

  Samuel squinted curiously. He'd paid particular attention to every person who'd left the pub and not one of them had returned to board any of the vessels that were docked. “How long ago?”

  The man glanced at a clock hanging on the wall behind Samuel. “Near on two hours ago.”

  “Are you certain?” The scowl the sailor was giving him said he did not like being questioned. Samuel continued, “Was he alone?”

  “What's it to ye?” the sailor across the table leaned in and asked with a sneer, revealing several missing teeth among the rotten ones he still had remaining.

  “Look, I didn't come here to cause any harm. I have important business to discuss with the Captain and would only like to know where to find him.”

  Silence reigned as if the sailors doubted his intent. With a quick roll of his eyes, Samuel reached into his pocket once more and retrieved more coins. “Just tell me where I can find him,” he urged as he laid them out on the table.

  “If he's not aboard The Tempest, I don't know where he be,” the burly, black-bearded sailor snapped, snatching the coins before Samuel could remove them.

  Several of the men nodded their agreement. Samuel rose to his feet, certain he wasn't going to get any more information from these men. It was clear they were protective of their captain or feared him and his retribution.

  As soon as he was free from the dingy pub, Samuel ran to the docks; certain Captain Wallace knew something about Sophia's whereabouts. Thankfully, he had more coins in his pocket, because it took another large bribe to get a sailor to take word to Captain Wallace of his need to speak with him at once.

  He waited impatiently on the dock, tapping his foot anxiously for what seemed like forever before the young seaman returned and let him aboard. He'd barely set foot aboard the ship when he was approached by a dangerous looking man that he at once knew was the captain himself.

  “Who are you?” Captain Wallace sneered, without a cordial greeting or introduction. “I have an important matter of business to see to, and I fear your visit is only derailing me. Make it brief.”

  Unused to people speaking to him in such a domineering way, Samuel bristled. “I'm here on behalf of The Crown.” He hadn't planned on revealing that much right away, but his pride forced him to.

  Captain Wallace's stern expression changed ever-so-slightly to something close to relief, though it was so subtle, the untrained eye wouldn't notice it. “How fortunate for me that you've arrived when you have. Come, we must speak at once.”

  The captain turned on his heel and stalked off across the deck, leaving Samuel no option but to follow. He led him to his private quarters and motioned for him to sit in the chair across his desk. “Have you any documents proving your claims?”

  “You know I haven't.” A spy never carried proof of his profession on his person.

  “Then how am I to know I can trust you?”

  Samuel leaned across the desk and said in a low, authoritative voice, “I'm aware that there's been an inordinate amount of pressure placed upon you from Whitehall as of recent when it became clear you were housing a traitor to The Crown among your crew. I also know that you're the informant that turned Lady Sophia Whitworth over to the authorities for investigation in hopes of diverting some of that unwanted attention away from yourself. Need I divulge more?”

  Stony silence fell between them as the two men stared each other down. Finally, for reason's unbeknownst to Samuel, Captain Wallace decided he could believe him. He leaned across his desk and admitted, “I've got the traitor aboard my ship and am holding her hostage.”

  Samuel gasped, letting down his guard in a rare moment of weakness. “You have the lady? Here?”

  A delighted grin spread across the captain's face. “She's locked up in a closet in the room behind us. I also have her confession. I was on my way to speak to the authorities when you intercepted me. What a happy coincidence that you showed up when you did don't you think?”

  “Happy indeed,” Samuel mumbled sarcastically, more worried about Sophia's well-being than Captain Wallace's claim that he had her confession. “Show me to her at once.”

  “Shouldn't we wait until we can send for backup?”

  “I'm certain I can handle the lady myself. Now, take me to her at once.”

  Captain Wallace led him to the back room where he pulled a key from his person and unlocked the small closet containing Sophia. Samuel watched in horror as the door opened revealing a bound Sophia crumpled into a ball in the small space. He wanted nothing more than to go to her and wrap her in his em
brace, but he had to refrain.

  “Lady Whitworth, you have a visitor.”

  Up until that point, Sophia hadn't bothered looking up at either of them, which frightened Samuel. He wondered if she were hurt. At the sound of the captain's voice, Sophia turned her head slowly towards them, and the look of disgust and anger he saw in her icy blue eyes made him shiver, for it wasn't only directed at the captain, it was directed at him as well.

  Turning to Captain Wallace, Samuel said stiffly, “I need to interrogate her. It's protocol.”

  “By all means, have at it.”

  “Alone,” he insisted, praying he could get to the bottom of this.

  With a stiff nod, Captain Wallace conceded. “I will wait in my office.”

  The minute the door closed behind the captain, Samuel fell to his knees and tried to scoop Sophia into his arms, but she recoiled from his touch. “Little lamb, what's wrong?”

  “You've betrayed me,” she hissed, trying to sound angry, though the tears forming in her eyes gave her away.

  He reached out to brush the errant strands of hair from her face. His heart twisted in pain as she flinched at the touch. “I haven't betrayed you. I'm here to help you.”

  She shook her head violently. “You've been spying on me for months, trying to prove me guilty of treason. You lied to me, Samuel. You made me believe your presence at Goldborne was simply a protection to my family and me. And your kisses,” she hissed with venom, “were nothing more than an attempt to disarm me.”

  “Yes, I mean no.” He stumbled on his words as Sophia's glare intensified. “I mean, I can explain. You see, I was sent by Whitehall to discover if the accusations brought against you were true. I was attempting to prove your innocence, Sophia, not your guilt. No one at the Main Office wanted to believe you were capable of treason. You are one of us.”

  Sophia snorted in disgust.

  Samuel continued, “You do realize, don't you, that if any of us thought you truly capable of treason, you'd have been locked away by now, the truth tortured out of you? It was an act of mercy to allow someone to spy on you in an attempt to discover the truth.”

  “Forgive me, but I don't find you toying with my heart an act of mercy.”

  “That wasn't an act, Sophia. You must trust me. I've been half in love with you since we were assigned to be partners on the case against Gilbert. I was warned not to let my feelings for you get in the way of my investigation, but I couldn't seem to help myself. The moment I first touched you, I was a goner.”

  “I don't believe you.”

  Samuel sighed. Reaching for her hand, he held it firmly in his, though she tried valiantly to pull it away. “I can only think of two reasons why the thought that I'm being dishonest would bother you so; either it wounds your delicate pride—“ Samuel wanted to laugh when she gave him a withering glare, but he continued, “or it's because you love me, too.”

  “Don't flatter yourself, my lord. It's neither my pride nor my heart that is wounded. You haven't the power to damage either one. I simply detest being lied to.”

  Taking her shoulders into his hands, he forced her to look into his eyes. Several seconds passed before he whispered, “I detest it as much, little lamb, so I must insist that you stop. Stop lying to me and stop lying to yourself, neither one of us benefits from it.”

  “I'm not lying,” she said indignantly.

  “Let me disprove you,” he said as his head dipped towards hers.

  He didn't blink as he lowered his face, taking in every emotion that flitted across her lovely blue eyes. Fear was quickly replaced by passion as his lips finally made contact with hers. She tried to pull away, but he held the back of her head firmly in place until she eventually melted into his arms, responding with an eagerness surpassing anything he'd felt before. She needed him just as much as he needed her.

  He forced himself to break contact, knowing if he continued, he'd ruin her. He loved her too much to want to damage her in any way. With their foreheads still touching, he said huskily, “Deny you love me after that. I dare you.”

  Her eyes slid from his face and rested on his chest. He held his breath as a small sliver of doubt wedged its way inside his heart. Would she truly confess to feeling nothing for him after that?

  “There's something you need to know first before I admit anything else.”

  “What?” he asked with baited breath.

  “It would appear I'm guilty of treason, just as Captain Wallace claimed.”

  “No, I don't believe it.”

  He watched as a large tear escaped the corner of her eye, eyes that still refused to look into his. “Yes, it's true. I unknowingly delivered a letter into enemy hands.”

  “Unknowingly? Explain yourself.”

  Sophia quickly explained what had occurred the last time she'd been aboard The Tempest, shame lacing every word. When she was done, her voice was small as she confessed, “I had no idea, Samuel. Truly, I didn't. I'll never forgive myself for what I've done.”

  “You're still innocent, don't you understand? We will go Whitehall together and explain everything. Surely they'll understand.”

  “But what if they don't?” she asked sadly.

  Samuel gathered her into his arms and promised, “They will.”

  Sophia sighed against his chest, overcome with all the emotions she'd experienced in the last several hours. Samuel stroked her hair, wondering if it was too soon to push for her other confession, the confession he so desperately wanted to hear.

  He pressed a tender kiss to the top of her head, then ventured asking, “Is there anything else you'd like to admit?”

  Sophia had never been so scared of something in her entire life. She'd faced evil men who'd tried to kill her and still not been as scared as she was now. There was something so frightening about being vulnerable, about confessing something she didn't fully understand herself.

  Looking into Samuel's intense, gray eyes, she whispered, “I think I love you, too.”

  His chest rumbled with a low chuckle. “You only think?”

  Jutting out her chin, she conceded haughtily, “Fine, I do love you, but I will love you even more when you get me off this ship.”

  “Your wish is my command, little lamb,” he said as he pulled her to her feet beside him.

  “Not so fast.”

  Both Samuel and Sophia's heads whipped towards the voice as the silhouette of the captain filled the door frame.

  Samuel took a step away from Sophia and addressed the man. “I must thank you for detaining Lady Whitworth and turning her over to my care. I will escort her back to London where the entire matter will be straightened out at once.”

  “Not so fast,” he repeated dangerously. “You are not to be trusted. For all I know, you are in collusion with the lady, an accomplice to her treason.”

  Sophia looked at Samuel, waiting for his reaction. She watched as his jaw twitched with anger before he ground out, “I already told you I work for The Crown. I've been assigned to Lady Sophia's case and will see that matters are handled accordingly.”

  “Does your job description include seducing the lady?” Captain Wallace asked with a hint of dark amusement laced with disdain.

  So, he'd seen them kiss? Sophia's cheeks burned at the realization.

  “What I do or don't do with the lady is none of your affair. She's my assignment, not yours,” Samuel spat.

  “This is where we will have to disagree, my lord. You see, the lady has brought undue scrutiny upon my ship and her crew since I had the unfortunate privilege of having her aboard. The Crown has been watching my every move, unwilling to believe I had no part in Bragg's treachery. The only way to relieve myself of their constant watch is by delivering the true criminal to them personally, a feat I'm prepared to do at once.”

  Without waiting for their response, Captain Wallace called over his shoulder, “Ellis and Pratt, come bind them at once.”

  Two strapping seamen edged past the captain, ropes in hand and went straigh
t for Samuel and Sophia. Samuel stepped out of their reach and hissed, “This isn't wise of you, Captain.”

  “Let me suggest that your unwillingness to cooperate isn't wise. I have a whole crew of men at my command, willing to do my bidding at a moment's notice. You are outnumbered.”

  Sophia could see Samuel warring with himself. He knew the captain was right, but to allow the two seamen to bind him went against his very nature. He was not one to submit easily.

  Finally, he caved and allowed the seamen to bind his hands. “We will get this entire mess sorted out once we arrive in London,” he promised Sophia.

  She nodded, though it wasn't what awaited them in London that worried her, it was the treacherous voyage aboard The Tempest at the mercy of the awful Captain Wallace that scared her. She could only hope they'd survive.

  Sophia's body rocked back and forth with the turbulent waves of the sea. She'd been locked inside a small room with meager furnishings. The only human interaction she'd had was with the seaman who delivered her meager meal twice a day, and he was not someone who cared for conversation. She was sure it was Captain Wallace who'd instructed the man not speak to her, which made her hate him all the more.

  She was grateful the Captain had seen fit to leave her in solitude, knowing the man capable of great brutality, but she was deeply worried about Samuel and hoped Captain Wallace had not seen fit to torture him in hopes of getting him to divulge information she knew he didn't possess.

  Laying on the flat mattress in the middle of the floor, Sophia tried not to think about the insects she was sure were infesting it. The repugnant thought could drive her mad if she let. Instead, she focused on the wood beams of the ceiling above and began counting them for what had to be the hundredth time. Counting objects in the room was the only thing she had found to distract herself from the boredom.

  She was halfway through counting when she heard a noise to her right. Sitting up straight, she glanced to her side, praying she wouldn't find a rodent had come to keep her company. Her face paled at the thought as her eyes settled on a small slip of parchment.