The Secrets of a Scoundrel

by Gaelen Foley

“Good,” he murmured in relief.

  “But he still has it,” she warned.

  “I’ll take care of it from here. As for you—­”

  “I’ll be fine,” she promised. “Just help me figure out a plan to get everybody out of here. I’m not leaving just to save my own skin. I couldn’t live with that.”

  He pulled back a little to give her a rather paternal frown. “I still think this is daft. But, if you insist, and you swear to me by your stubborn head that you’ll use the utmost caution—­”

  “I will, I promise!”

  He nodded reluctantly, even as he eyed her with a speculative glance. “Very well, then. Where are they keeping you?”

  “Cargo hold, behind a heavy, barred door that’s always locked, except when they bring rations or carry out the slop.”

  “Can you pick a lock?”

  “If I have a suitable instrument, yes.”

  “Here.” He bent down and gave her the knife hidden in his boot, unbuckling the small strap that secured the sheath.

  “Ah!” Her eyes lit up as she grasped it, sliding the nasty little blade out of the sheath and holding it up to the light. “This should come in handy!” she murmured with great relish.

  It felt wonderful to have some means of self-­defense in her hand again, at last. As Nick straightened up again, she noticed him staring at her. Did she seem too savage?

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “Your father would have been extremely proud of you.”

  She smiled ruefully as she put the knife away.

  Then Nick leaned down and kissed her with mesmerizing softness. The silken caress of his lips on hers made her shiver with longing to make love with him again.

  Perhaps his thoughts had wandered down the same wayward path, for he ended the kiss abruptly, as though unwilling to be distracted by desire when so much was at stake. Taking hold of her shoulders, he pushed her back sternly to arm’s length and stared hard into her face.

  “Right.” From that moment, he was all business, all spy. “Here’s what you need to do . . .”

  He told her.

  Gin listened avidly. She hung on every word until she had her full instructions, asking just a few brief questions.

  “Have you got all that?”

  She swallowed hard, nodding. “It doesn’t sound too difficult,” she said, though her heart was pounding.

  “I’ll see if I can’t even the odds for you before you make your move. You’d better be safe,” he added, pausing as he cupped her cheek. “Because it’s beginning to look like I can’t live without you.”

  She beamed at him. “Really? Does that mean you’re not still planning to go to America?”

  “Oh, I think life with you is plenty wild enough for me,” he whispered. “Of course, when all this is over, I still fully intend to pay you back for scaring me like this. You’ve got it coming, just so you know.”

  She smiled, her lips inches from. “Mmm, that sounds fun. Nick?” she murmured in a dreamy tone after he had kissed her again. “I want you to know how much you mean to me.” His eyes glowed warmly at her words as he pulled back just enough to meet her gaze. “I never thought I’d feel this way.” She ran her hands slowly down his rock-­hard arms. “Thoughts of you—­and of Phillip—­are all that’s kept me going. At least, thank God, my son is still safe at home.”

  An odd look skimmed his face.

  She paused, unsure what it meant. Maybe her love words had made him uneasy. “What is it, darling?”

  “Nothing. Just promise me you’ll use all possible caution when you do this thing. I can’t lose you again.”

  “You won’t. I promise. Well—­I guess we’d better go back out there before our dear Captain Rotgut gets suspicious.”

  “Right. I’ll tell him he was right, that you’re too much damned trouble. Which is true.”

  She pinched his cheek for that, smiling adoringly at him.

  “And then we’ll see if there’s any honor among thieves. If the rat will let me choose another female,” he added in distaste.

  “You’ll know little Rose when you see her. Blond curls. Big blue eyes. Once you get her to safety, tell her it was all my idea. We’ve become quite close.”

  Nick took a deep breath, then let it out with a look of disgust. “I can’t believe you’re making me act the part of someone who would buy a child virgin. I kill those kinds of men. With great zeal.”

  “And I love you for it,” she replied. “I know. I’m sorry, darling. But if there may be shooting, all the more reason to get the little one out of here before it starts.” Gin shook her head. “God knows she’s already been through enough, poor thing. She’s scared to death. The only blessing is that she’s too innocent to understand what these men intend.”

  “Good,” he grumbled. “I’ll see that she stays that way.”

  As he turned and grasped the door handle, pausing to gather himself for another round of playacting as one of the criminal cutthroats, Gin quickly hid the knife under her skirts, buckling the strap above her knee.

  He glanced back at her. “Ready?”

  “Not quite.” She pulled him down for one last, passionate kiss. Heart pounding, she whispered a promise that they’d be together again soon.

  “Now I’m ready,” she breathed.

  He wasn’t, it seemed, hesitating for one moment more. “I love you, Virginia,” he suddenly blurted out. “I just wanted you to know that.”

  She drew in her breath at his declaration—­just as a shout from outside summoned them back to an unforgiving reality.

  “You’re not rogering her in there like I said, are you, Black?”

  “I wish,” Nick said under his breath. Then he opened the door. “Damn you!” he yelled at her, rubbing his cheek as if she had clawed him and cursing at her under his breath.

  Gin followed him, trying not to laugh at his performance—­though that was partly from nerves and partly from her sheer, giddy joy that the hero of her girlish dreams had just said he loved her.

  “Hellcat! God, you were right, man! She’s a vicious thing!” The men laughed heartily while Nick feigned sheepish indignation. “The little viper bit me! No thanks, you can keep the guns, I don’t want her. Bloody hell!”

  “Ah, poor fellow! Let’s see if we can’t find you another,” Rotgut said with great humor, clapping him on the back. “You ruined it for yourself, lass. Try to get away with that when I sell your lily-­white arse to some prince of Arabia.”

  Gin hissed at him in answer, but stole one last longing glance at Nick before they returned her to her dungeon.

  Nick soon left the slavers’ frigate with a screaming twelve-­year-­old slung over his shoulder as he climbed down the ladder.

  He had played a lot of roles in his career as a spy, but this was by far the most distasteful.

  His visit to Rotgut’s ship had left him wanting to take a bath with lye soap at the first opportunity.

  “Hold still!” he cried as his prisoner kicked him in the kidney in her frenzy of hysterical rage.

  Good God! The brat might have a future career in the opera with those lungs.

  “Calm down!” he ordered.

  There was no comforting her. She’d raise the Adriatic with her rain of wild tears. Little Rose did not know she was being rescued, but was bereft and terrified at being separated from the older girls, and most of all, from Virginia, to whom she had obviously developed some sort of mother-­child attachment.

  “Let me go!” she shrieked in earsplitting tones.

  “I am not going to hurt you!” he roared back, not the most soothing reassurance, but it was all he could do be to be heard over the din of her heartrending screeches.

  With all her flailing about, he nearly dropped her in the waves. Dear God! he thought when they reached the dory at last.


  Obviously, he had never dealt with an angry twelve-­year-­old girl before.

  She proceeded to scream and wail piteously and plead with him not to “m-­m-­murder” her, the whole way from the Black Jest to the Santa Lucia. Nick just rolled his eyes.

  Even when he tried to inform her in the calmest of tones that he had no intention of murdering her, she didn’t believe him. “Listen to me!” he insisted when they were halfway there, far enough not to have his words carried back to Rotgut on the wind.

  She paused only long enough to take a few ragged breaths, pulling for air, while he attempted to explain that he was, in fact, rescuing her on Lady Burke’s orders.

  She shook her head, refusing to believe, found her voice again, and resumed her piteous wailing. “Take me back! Take me back to her!”

  “Oh, for God’s sake.” Nick gave up and resolved to foist her off on Phillip the moment they arrived.

  For his part, Nick hadn’t finished his exchange yet with Rotgut. He still had to send over one of the howitzers to pay the vile bastard for this noisy, little, curly-­headed fiend.

  Turned out the going rate for a child virgin was a good deal higher than for a gorgeous grown redhead ripened to the perfection of her womanhood.

  Well, who could comprehend the pervert mind, Nick thought in disgust while Phillip suddenly peered over the rails above them.

  “What the deuce is all that caterwauling?” the boy exclaimed.

  Eager to be relieved of her, Nick called back, “What’s that, sorry? I’m afraid I’ve gone quite deaf.”

  “Who is that?” Phillip repeated.

  “Oh, this is Rose. Rose, meet Phillip. He is Lady Burke’s son. You see the resemblance? Now do you believe me?”

  Rose looked up at Phillip and wasn’t sure. She clung to the rowboat as it rocked back and forth on the waves, her round, reddened face a very theatre mask of sorrow.

  Soundless sobs racked her little frame. Perhaps she had lost her voice, he thought dryly.

  One could only hope.

  “Quiz him once we go aboard, if you don’t believe me,” Nick told her. “Ask him any question about Lady Burke, and you’ll see, he knows everything about her—­as he should. That’s his mother! All right? So you can hate me if you want, but at least you know you can trust him. Phillip’s not going to let anything bad happen to you.”

  “What are you saying down there?” Phillip called above the noise of waves and wind.

  “Nothing! Just help me get her aboard. Up! Up you go,” Nick ordered, steadying the girl as she stood up cautiously in the dory and reached for the ladder.

  “Take my hand!” Phillip reached down to help her as she climbed the ladder slowly, rung by rung, sparing a terrified glance or two down at the waves. “It’s all right, almost there.” At last, Phillip helped her onto the deck of the Santa Lucia. “Who are you, then?”

  Rose cowered, looking around at the unfamiliar boat.

  Phillip frowned, apparently grasping the gravity of the child’s situation.

  “Your mother sent her over,” Nick informed him as he swung his leg over the bulwark and jumped down onto the deck.

  Phillip’s eyes widened. “You saw my mother? Where? How is she?”

  “She’s well enough. She’s on that ship. No, no, don’t wave. They don’t need to know you have a connection to anyone over there. Besides, I don’t want to take any chances of her seeing you.”

  Phillip turned to him indignantly. “You didn’t tell her that I’m here?”

  “I couldn’t, lad.” Nick gave the boy’s shoulder an apologetic squeeze. “I’m sorry, but she’ll never be able to focus on her escape if she knows you’re this close to the danger. You know how protective she is.”

  “Right.” Phillip’s mouth tilted. “She’s going to kill me for leaving England, anyway.”

  Nick nodded. “Probably so. Now, then. I’ve got to finish up some business. Look after the girl for me, will you?”

  Phillip looked dubiously at Rose, then back at Nick. “Do I have to?”

  He nodded. “Cheer her up. You’re good at that sort of thing. As you can see, she’s quite upset.”

  The well-­bred young lordling looked again at their little damsel in distress and produced a handkerchief from his pocket for her tears.

  Rose took it, wide-­eyed, and blew her nose with great vigor.

  Phillip frowned. “Who exactly is she?”

  “She’s Rose. That’s all I know. She’s had a terrible time, so we’re all going to be very kind and gentlemanly toward her until we can return her safe and sound to her family. Agreed?” He glanced around at his jovial Italian crewmen. “No teasing.”

  Sensing the delicacy of the situation, they sent the curly-­headed bambina compassionate looks.

  “We make-­a you something to eat?”

  “Now, there’s a fine idea,” Nick replied. “Rose, I am making Phillip your official defender on this boat, do you understand? As I said, nobody’s going to hurt you. Especially now, because nobody here wants to mess with him. You know why?”

  “W-­why?”

  “Because Phillip’s grandfather was a great Highland warrior who taught him how to be a knight, and knights protect ladies, you know. That’s what they do. So you may rest assured from now on that you are completely safe aboard this ship. Sir Phillip himself is hereby assigned to look after you,” he added pointedly.

  Though blushing, Phillip did not look too enthused about having to play nursemaid to a wee girl.

  Nick stared him into obedience.

  “Fine,” the boy muttered, then he glanced at their guest. “You can help me if you want.”

  “What are you doing?” Rose asked him shyly.

  Phillip lifted his chin. “Catching an octopus. And when I get one, Captain Antonio’s going to make us calamari.”

  “No, the calamari is a squid!” Captain Antonio protested. “How many times I gotta tell you?”

  “Whatever,” Phillip mumbled, then he flashed a grin at Rose. “You can have some, too—­but only if you help me catch ’em.”

  She seemed intrigued by this project in spite of herself. She still clutched his handkerchief with a white-­knuckled grip, but it looked like having another youngster around had already started to put her at ease. “Have you caught one yet?” Her voice sounded froggy from screaming.

  “No,” Phillip said with a sigh. “They’re terribly clever. You wouldn’t think it, would you? Give her a hat before she gets a sunburn.” Phillip snatched Luigi’s straw hat off his head and set it atop Rose’s dirty golden curls. “Here, you want to help? Here’s what you must do.”

  He thrust a clay pot tied with a rope into her hands, then fished a coin out of his pocket. “Drop this in the pot.”

  She did so, marveling at this strange advice.

  “Octopi like shiny things. He’ll climb in the pot and hunker down in there. Then we’ll pull him up. Now we have to drop the pot over the side and lower it down to the bottom. Go ahead, you do it. I’ll help.”

  Nick watched in amusement while the two undertook this operation. Satisfied that Rose was settling down, he left them to their octopus fishing and went to fetch the howitzer.

  He sent a few of the Italians out in two of the ship’s largest boats to deliver the weapon to Rotgut in pieces—one carrying the howitzer itself, the other transporting the disassembled gun-carriage. But he did not go himself. God knew, he could not face that foul beast again right now. The desire to shoot him in the head was much too strong.

  Once they had departed to deliver the weapon to its new owner, Nick went below and retreated to his cabin, taking a moment to try to clear his head.

  The fact was, he was more shaken by his meeting with Virginia than he had let on.

  He couldn’t believe he had agreed to leave her behind. Walking away fr
om her had been the hardest thing he had ever done. Their strategy was solid, but he was scared to death about whether she could really pull it off.

  He hoped she understood that he was, indeed, treating her like an equal.

  Truly, he was placing as much trust in her to get the job done as he would’ve trusted any of his warrior brothers in the Order.

  Well, he thought, taking a deep breath, this was what she had always wanted.

  More importantly, they didn’t have much choice. She was right. She did have the best chance of helping the girls from the inside.

  Too restless to remain below for long, Nick left his cabin again and returned topside to see if the Italians were back yet.

  At the rails, he looked through his telescope and saw the howitzer being slowly hoisted on a crane up onto the Black Jest.

  He sent the frigate’s odious captain a cordial wave, when all of a sudden, cheering erupted from the opposite side of the Santa Lucia.

  “We got one! Look!” Phillip quickly pulled the clay pot up while Rose stood by, looking on. “Finally!”

  Nick turned to watch, arching a brow.

  “Oh, look at that!”

  Captain Antonio was quick on the scene to help, cheering on the young fishermen. “Molto bene! Oh, he’s a good one! A little small, but for your first one, is good!”

  “Ew, he’s ugly!” said Rose with a girly grimace.

  Phillip grinned at her. “Looks tasty to me! What do we do now?” the boy asked with an eager glance at their captain-­chef.

  “Take him out of the pot.”

  “How?”

  Antonio shrugged. “Just grab him.”

  It was easier said than done.

  “Slippery fellow! Oh, drat.”

  Nick chuckled and Rose shrieked when the octopus thunked out of the pot onto the deck, along with all the water, which doused it.

  Rose gasped as the whole of the bulbous, wriggly-­armed creature was revealed. “You can’t eat that!” she cried. “It’s disgusting!”

  “You want me to get him for you?” Antonio offered.

  “No, no, I can do it myself!”

  Phillip’s answer to everything, Nick thought, folding his arms across his chest as he watched in amusement.