“My Lady!” Came a shriek across the landing and Annie ran at her, smothering her in a rib-crushing hug. “Oh, Henrietta!” the maid squealed, the use of her full name illustrating Annie's state of distress as the maid cast an eye over her bloody clothes. Before Henri could reassure her as to the fact the blood wasn't her own, Annie seemed to notice something behind Henri, and with a theatrical moan she clapped her hand to her forehead, her eyes rolled up and she fainted clean away.
“Oh, Annie!” Henri exclaimed, exasperated and wanting nothing more than to go and care for Lawrence. She looked up as Mousy appeared beside her, staring at the rumpled heap of her maid on the floor of the landing.
“She alrigh?” he asked, frowning.
“Oh yes, I think so,” Henri replied, eyeing her maid with suspicion. “She's just fainted. Can you help me get her up?”
Mousy nodded and reached down, lifting Annie into his arms with little effort and surprising care. Henri directed him to Annie's room where he laid her on her bed and then hovered, looking at her anxiously as Annie gave a voluptuous sigh. “Should someon' stay an' ... look after 'er?” he asked, watching the reclining figure with concern in his eyes.
Henri smothered a smile and cursed Annie, the shameless hussy. “I believe she will be well enough. Perhaps you could send one of the women with some smelling salts to revive her.”
Mousy nodded but looked a little crestfallen and she felt bad spoiling Annie's fun, so she added, “But I am sure she would be grateful to know how you helped her, if you would call upon her later perhaps, when she has recovered.”
“Aye,” Mousy, nodded, looking pleased. “Aye, I'll send one o' the lasses an' pop roun' later. Jus' to see she's well, like,” he added with haste.
“I think she would be most grateful for your kind attentions, Mousy.” She smiled at him and ushered him out of the room as fast as she could. The moment he'd gone Annie made a miraculous recovery and gave her a devilish wink. Henri rolled her eyes and ran back to Lawrence, finding him sitting on the edge of the bed with his shirt off and wadded it into a bundle at his side. He looked up at her with a wounded air.
“Well at last, you're lucky I didn't bleed out the time you've taken!”
“Oh, Lawrence!” she cried, mortified and running to sit beside him. “I'm so sorry, only Annie would go and faint and then Mousy came, and do you know, I think he has a tendre for her!”
“Mousy? For Annie?” Lawrence said in alarm. “Well I'll be damned.”
Henri frowned as she removed the bloody shirt and inspected his wound. “Well,” she added, before she thought the comment through. “Annie was unconscious.”
Lawrence snorted with amusement. “Well that explains a lot.”
“Odious creature,” she scolded, smothering a laugh as she reassured herself that the wound was neither too deep or grave. “Oh, thank goodness. We should get a doctor to look at it but the bleeding seems to have stopped. How's your arm?”
“Damn my arm,” he growled and she looked up to see an altogether different light in his eyes. He pulled her to him and tumbled her onto the bed, kissing her with desperation, and she clung to him only too willingly until he pulled back and regarded her, his blue eyes troubled.
“You see what life with me will entail, Henri? I can never guarantee that this won't happen again. I will always be a target while the price on my head is waving over me like a damned red flag.”
She nodded and put her hand to his cheek. “Yes, I know, darling, and that's why you really must teach me to shoot properly.”
“Henri!” he exclaimed. “That should not have to be the answer to our problems. I don't want you to have to kill men on a regular basis! Though you do seem to have an aptitude for it,” he added, with a rueful sigh.
She smiled up at him and then grew still as an idea began to form in her mind.
“Oh, Lord, what the devil is going on in that tangled brain of yours now?” he demanded.
Henri blinked up at him, all innocence, and pouted. “Well really, Lawrence, I don't know what you mean.”
“Yes you do,” he grumbled, shaking his head. “That look means trouble. I have no doubt in my mind that was the exact same expression you wore when you decided to head out into the night alone and blackmail a pirate!” She flushed a little and he nodded. “I thought so. What are you plotting now, madam?”
Huffing at him she rolled her eyes. “Well that particular scheme worked out rather well didn't it?” she asked, one eyebrow raised.
He snorted and leaned down to kiss her again. “Well,” he murmured against her lips. “I guess you have me there.”
She wriggled underneath him and giggled. “I believe I have you everywhere,” she said, biting her lip as his hands began to explore.
“Now hold on,” he said, stopping abruptly. “Stop trying to distract me. You are far too good at it. What are you scheming, and tell me the truth or I shan't kiss you.” He sat up, albeit with a wince of pain, and then crossed his arms.
Henri sighed.
“Well that is indeed a threat to be taken seriously,” she replied with a grave expression. “So I shall have to tell you everything.” She looked down and realised with disgust she was still wearing the blood soaked dress, so she stood and began to wriggle out of it, enjoying the warmth in her pirate's eyes as he followed her every move. “Well, Lawrence,” she continued as the filthy dress fell to the floor. “It was only that I was thinking about our situation, and as you say, the dilemma of the price on your head and really, –I think it would be best for everyone if Captain Savage … was dead.”
Chapter 35
“Wherein the past must be consigned to Davy Jones.”
Henri looked around the barn which had been chosen for the scene of this debate and found it hard to believe her eyes. There were more than a hundred men crammed into the space which had seemed quite vast before all of them had arrived. At first there had been a good deal of sizing up and suspicious looks between the two groups which comprised Lawrence's men of The Wicked Wench and Alex's crews of the three cutters which made regular runs between France and the Cornish coast. But both Alex and Lawrence had spent some time moving between the men, making introductions and sharing stories, and there seemed to be the beginnings of an accord between them.
Henri had laughed when she had heard the names of the cutters, which were Bold Bessie, Jenny's Prize and The Flighty Susan. The names had bemused her rather and she wondered why the men insisted on calling their ships after women of questionable morals. She posed this query to Lawrence who chuckled and squeezed her waist.
“Because their wicked wiles cause us to stray into the dark, but even though they lead us into trouble and storms ... we love them just the same.”
She snorted and rolled her eyes before frowning at Alex who had been listening in and nodding in accord.
“And what about The Revenge, sir, how do you account for that?”
Alex pursed his lips before answering. “I decided the men who forced the people of our coastline to break the laws by allowing them to starve were guilty for the death of my brother,” he said. “And though the smaller ships are the ones who run between France and Cornwall, it is The Revenge who covers their tracks. My high profile merchant trade takes the eyes of the militia from the smaller ships and holds their attention by sailing at times and with the kind of cargo that will help keep those men occupied. And as I am rather heavily involved with the militia myself,” he added with a smug grin at Lawrence's scandalised expression. “I have rather a lot of inside knowledge as to who and what they suspect, and where exactly they will be searching for it.”
“My God,” Lawrence said, shaking his head, and Henri wasn't sure if it was admiration or despair at his brother's antics that shone in his eyes. “And they call me The Rogue.”
“Ah yes,” Alex said with a characteristically cool smile. “But they call me Le Loup de Mer.”
Henri gasped and looked at him with astonishment. “You're the Sea Wol
f?”
“Guilty as charged, Miss Morton,” he replied with an amused glint in his eyes.
“Goodness, how stupid of me not to have realised. Why, my Lord Sinclair, you are famous,” she said, wondering just what kind of future awaited her with a pirate for a husband and a brother in law who was a notorious smuggler.
Alex looked at Lawrence and shrugged, giving a him a rye smile. “Yes, which is not always a good thing as we are discovering.”
“Well we can't drown both of you at once!” Henri said, suddenly feeling rather flustered.
“Now, wait a moment, I still haven't agreed to this,” Lawrence put in and Henri turned to scowl at him.
“Oh, Lawrence,” she raged, fury boiling at her plan being pushed aside after rowing over it all of the previous day. She raised her voice at him louder than she would usually have done in company. “You know it's the only way, Savage has to die so that you can come back and live! Don't you dare back out now or I shall have something to say on the matter!” She saw some of the men around them look to their captain as he was berated by the young woman who they had no doubt dismissed as a timid little thing up until that moment.
Lawrence held up his hands to her. “I didn't say that, love,” he replied, shaking his head. “I don't disagree with you, it's only ...” He sighed and folded his arms looking mutinous. “I won't sink my ship.”
Henri folded her arms in return, glaring at him. “You would choose your ship over me?” she demanded, a dangerous note in her voice that she knew he couldn't possibly miss. Damn the man, he had better make the right decision here or she might shoot him herself.
Lawrence opened his mouth and then seemed to think better of it. He sighed and scowled at her. “Damn it, Henri,” he began only to pause as Mousy stepped up to them.
“Beggin' ye pardon, Capt'n, Miss Morton.” He nodded to Henri who smiled back at him. “But I couldn't help but overhear, an' well, his lordship ran me through the plan an' ...” He glanced at Henri, an anxious look in his eyes. “Well, miss, it's jus'. It don' sit right, scuttling a fine ship like The Wench.”
Henri groaned and rolled her eyes at him and Mousy hurried on.
“But ... I think maybe I've an idea, how we migh' make people believe she's sunk an' the Capt'n drown'd but ... manage to keep 'er. I mean with a bit o' work an' a new name, no one w'uld be any the wiser.”
Lawrence looked at Mousy with real affection. “My man, I am all ears, let's have it!”
Mousy grinned, looking pleased and Henri sighed and nodded. “Very well, let us hear your plan and see if we can't save his beloved ship.”
Lawrence beamed at her and she smiled, shaking her head as he pulled her to him for a kiss.
***
By the time the plan had been thrashed out and all aspects of it considered, the men had other concerns, as Lawrence had known they would.
Harry was the first to step forward, carrying the word of some of his shipmates to their captain.
“Thing is, sir, some of us ain't as young as we once were, an' ye know the life we 'ad, well it's over to be blunt, an some of us ...” He twisted his hat in his hands, frowning and clearly trying to find the right words, so Lawrence decided to help him out.
“You wish to retire, Harry?”
Harry sighed and nodded. “That be the long an' the short of it, aye. I mean I must work but ... I ain't got the heart for piracy no more, the fun's gone out o' it.”
Lawrence looked to his brother and grinned. “Harry, I think you might want to listen to what his lordship has to say.”
Harry looked at Alex who nodded and got to his feet.
“Gentlemen, I am very honoured to make your acquaintance. As you now know, I am Lawrence's brother, Alex Sinclair, the Earl of Falmouth. I am also a great believer in helping those who help themselves.” His usually severe countenance showed a glimmer of humour as a chuckle rumbled around the room “It is possible you may have also figured out my other identity, or have heard tales of myself and my men ...”
“Aye, The Sea Wolf could take on The Rogue, I reckon,” yelled one bright spark who was drowned out in a wave of indignation from the crew of The Wicked Wench while the cutter's men laughed and roared their approval.
Alex waited until everyone had quietened down once more. “I would rather prefer it if we could work together this time. Killing each other really doesn't suit our purposes.” He looked at his brother with a sardonic lift of one eyebrow and then turned to the crew of The Wench. “These are the crews of the Bold Bessie, Jenny's Prize and The Flighty Susan.”
Those men who hadn't yet become acquainted moved around shaking hands and nodding, a little stiff and formal for the moment, but there was a good-natured air to the greetings that boded well for future relations.
“Now then,” Alex continued, once the noise had died down. “As we are all aware, we are here to arrange for that fine fellow, The Rogue.” He gestured to Lawrence who grinned and stood, making a leg and giving a sweeping bow that made him wince a little and clutch at his side as his men roared and cheered. “That is to say our good Captain Savage,” Alex continued. “Is to be consigned to end his days with Davy Jones.”
The cheers turned to boos and noises of disgust, though it was a good-hearted sound, full of regret rather than anger. “However, this means a great many fine and skilful men, out of a job. Which is something we simply cannot allow to happen. So ...”
Alex gave them a fierce and calculating look and Lawrence couldn't help but laugh. He wondered what their ancestors had been, Vikings perhaps, raiding and pillaging along the coast of England who had finally made their homes in the rugged land that was Cornwall. There had to be something of that nature in their blood, as the piratical gleam in Alex's eyes was only too familiar.
“So,” Alex continued. “I have work for those of you who would continue your trade, but this time free running, that is to say, smuggling contraband between here and Cornwall. I needn't tell you that this is dangerous work, the excise men are becoming ever more resourceful and with the recent creation of the Preventative Water Guard, bringing the run home is harder than ever. It takes courage and skill and a great deal of cunning, so if any of you are interested, come and speak with me and my crews and we will see what can be done.
I know that Lawrence trusts each and every one of you with his life, and you have repaid that trust in being here today. For that you have my everlasting gratitude and I am happy to join my own fate with yours, and trust in you as he has done.” There was a cheer and a chorus of shouts of approval and Alex raised his hand for silence. “However, for those of you who have a desire to keep your feet dry, I would also ask if you would stay with us. As you have seen our lives are dangerous ones and we need to take precautions to protect the ones we love and our livelihoods.” Alex glanced over at Lawrence who pulled Henri closer to him and planted a kiss upon the top of her head. He watched as the men around him nodded and murmured their approval, and saw Mousy cast a enquiring look towards Annie, who winked at him in return. “That being the case we wish to create a guard to watch over us, both here at Longueville and at home at Tregothnan. In short, any man that wishes to remain with us will be found work to please him, we will consider each other as brothers, as the brethren of old, with a code of honour and friends who will always have our backs.” Lawrence stood and walked to stand beside his brother and addressed the men himself.
“Well, my old friends and comrades, we begin a new chapter, and any who choose to go their own way will always be welcome to return to us if life does not treat them kindly.” He paused and reached for the bottle which Mousy held out to him with a grin. “For whether we be rogue or wolf, pirate or smuggler, we are brothers, brethren and we look to the future.” He raised the bottle in a toast, and the men roared their approval.
Chapter 36
“Wherein the stage is set upon a sparkling sea, and the players take their places.”
Henri walked beside her father and gathered the shawl a
little closer about her shoulders. She was glad of her new redingote a la hussard as the heavy red velvet was certainly warm which was definitely a good thing today. There was a breathtaking view across the Cornish coast from here. All spread out before them, the sea glittered a bright blue against a cobalt sky, and a chill wind snapped at her skirts as they walked the rugged coastline. The crash of the waves raged far below them as the icy water threw itself against the grey rocks, and the gulls wheeled far above, their raucous cries piercing through the sound of the sea roaring and the gusting winds. Her father shivered and looked at her in bewilderment as Henri suppressed a smile.
Never one to exert himself at the best of times, her father was rarely up before noon and certainly not up to anything further than tea, toast and perhaps a little undemanding conversation before late in the afternoon. At least, she thought with satisfaction, he looked a little less shabby genteel now his debts had been cleared and he had money to buy some new clothes. She just prayed his promise to curtail his excesses would hold, at least for a while. Although she loved him dearly she had no illusions about her only parent. He was a weak man and a selfish one, though he would never for one moment do anything to purposely make his daughter unhappy, she had come to realise he would do little to go out of his way to make her life easier. In accepting this fact she had resolved to feel no guilt for the use to which she was about to put him to. It had in fact, taken all of hers and Annie's negotiating skills to winkle him out of the house and persuade him to take a walk with them - as it was such a very fine day.
They looked out to sea and Henri's heart began to thud. Please God, please let everything go as it should. She shared a glance with Annie and knew the woman was echoing her own thoughts.
“Look, papa,” she said, pointing out to sea. “There's the earl's ship, The Revenge, he's due home today I believe.”
Her father squinted out towards the horizon, his once deep brown eyes rather myopic and faded. “Is it, my dear? My eyes aren't what they once were you know.”
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