“How do you escape detection by the staff?”
“I creep up the servants’ stairs,” she said. “There are many dark corners to hide in under cover of night.”
He had to admire her spirit. What she lacked in sense, she more than made up for in daring.
She exited the hackney and tipped her hat at her brother, and then strolled casually down the sidewalk, observing the street. It was empty but for the hackney that now made its way into the darkness. She glanced at the house and its neighbors, but on deciding she was alone, she slipped down the stairs to the servants’ entrance. Lifting a key from her pocket, she slowly unlocked the door into a dark hallway and walked silently up the stairs to her room. The house was silent and her footsteps made no sound on the carpeted floors. She opened her bedroom door and crept inside. Removing her clothes and hiding them again in one of her trunks, she quickly slipped between the covers and blew out the candle.
She lay in the dark thinking about her game of cards with Edward. It was the most she had seen of her husband in the last week. After he arose each day and had his breakfast, he would leave the house and usually not return until the early hours of the morning. She was relieved that he had no debts, but she was also concerned. She had at first thought Charles was paying his debts, but Charles had assumed she was. If neither of them was paying his enormous debts, who was and why? She sighed, tired of having to worry about that over which she had no control.
She spent her mornings in fittings with the dressmaker for the new wardrobe her husband insisted she have. In the afternoons, she visited with Jane and Margaret, then returning to the house in the hopes of seeing Edward. She hated the position she was in but she had no choice. The idea of letting Edward touch her filled her with dread.
Every day had passed with the dread growing more intense and she wanted the ruse to end. Every time she saw him, she forced herself to smile and be flirtatious. She made an effort with her appearance, and her new gowns were the height of fashion, but it was all to no avail.
He noticed her not at all, his eyes lingering only on the male servant next to her. At night, her thoughts always settled on Nicholas, and she hated him for it. She placed her hand on her belly and spoke softly to the baby growing there. She tired easily now and she found her mood easily turned to despair.
The sound of a door slamming woke her, and she sat up and listened in the dark to the sounds coming from next door. She climbed from under her covers and tiptoed to the door that opened onto his bedroom. She opened it enough to look through and watched Edward trying to pull his arms out of his coat. He was not having much success, and he bellowed for his valet. Clearly, he was drunk. His movements were clumsy, and his head sank to his chest. He sat on the bed with half his coat off, and began snoring. She opened the door and stepped toward the bed just as his door opened and his valet entered sleepily.
“It’s alright, Marston, I will take care of Sir Edward,” she said quickly.
She could see her presence greatly confused Marston for he hesitated as if he would argue, but then he lowered his eyes and exited again.
She approached Edward and touched his shoulder, giving him a small shake to see if he would wake. His body slumped slowly back onto the bed, his legs dangling to the floor.
She sighed. He was useless to her. Seducing a drunkard, she might have stood a chance, but not one half dead to the world. She thought about giving him a good kick to see if he would wake, but then resigned herself to defeat. For at least this night, she decided against any more ideas of seduction.
She reached down to pull his boots off, and had to pull hard for they refused to be moved. It was a delicate balance between pushing and pulling, for she did not want Edward to slide to the floor with her effort. Finally, she sat on the floor and with one foot positioned in his crotch to hold him on the bed, she pulled with all her might and the boot gave way. When she had managed to wrestle the second boot off, she threw it down next to its mate. She was breathing hard from the effort.
She climbed on the bed and rolled him over to remove his jacket and shirt, and then pulled off his pantaloons, trying hard not to study his penis as it lay in retreat. His body was slowly giving into the excesses he enjoyed, and he carried extra weight around his middle. His chest was covered in a thick carpet of dark hair that had begun to turn grey. She could not find his nightshirt so she decided to roll him under the sheets naked.
Once she had him in bed, she walked toward the connecting door only to stop halfway across the room. She turned slowly back to the bed, and smiled to herself. Why had she not thought of it earlier?
She pulled her nightdress over her head, and climbed naked into the bed next to him. She curled up close to him and put his arm over her body so they lay together as lovers would. She forced herself to lie still and try to sleep but his snoring in her ear did not help.
***
She felt him stir and a deep groan of discomfort came from him as he woke slowly. His arm tightened around her and he pulled her closer. He nuzzled the back of her neck in his sleep, and she could feel him hardening against her derriere. His hand roamed up her stomach to her chest, and he touched her breast, caressing it.
Then suddenly she felt his body stiffen and he jumped out of the bed, cursing. She stretched her body, pretending to wake, and turned toward her husband who stood beside the bed holding his head as if it would fall from his shoulders. His eyes were huge and bloodshot and she forced down the laugh that rose in her at the look on his face.
“Good morning, Edward,” she said, smiling.
He didn’t answer, but took a few staggering steps toward a pitcher of water. He filled the glass with a trembling hand and spilled some on himself as he gulped it down. He drank two glasses of water, and then slipped into a robe before returning to the bed. She lay against the headboard, the sheet pulled up to cover her nakedness.
“Are you alright, Edward?” she asked.
He sat gently down on the bed at the furthest corner from her.
“Georgiana,” he said softly.
“Yes, Edward.”
“What are you doing in my bed?”
“You took me to your bed last night,” she said and smiled. “Edward, you have made me so happy for I was starting to wonder if you found me terribly haggard to ignore me for so long.”
He seemed to pale at the words and she said, “What is the matter, dear?”
“I do not feel well,” he said. “Perhaps we could talk later.”
“But I don’t understand,” she said.
“Please, Georgiana, my head is splitting and I must rest.”
She pulled the rope beside the bed. “I will have them bring you something to make you feel better. Let me take care of you.”
“No,” he said, his voice raised, but she could tell it pained him. “I wish you had not done that.”
“Not done what?” she asked, confused. “You need your valet, do you not?”
And I need some witnesses, she thought.
“Yes, thank you,” he said, annoyed. “And now if you will leave, I can manage.”
“Leave?” she said, acting confused. “But, Edward, I don’t want to leave. I want to take care of you.”
“Get out,” he roared, his face enraged.
She stared at him a moment, then burst out crying, her head in her hands as the door opened to admit his valet.
“M’lord?”
“Dear God,” he sighed and sat down on the bed next to her. “Come back later.”
Edward reached out an awkward hand to pat her shoulder, and with the contact, she flung herself into his arms. She did not have to act the part for she had often in the last few weeks felt the need to allow herself a good hysterical cry. She felt him pat her back, his body stiff.
“You must stop this at once.”
She pulled herself together and hiccupped a last few sobs. “I’m sorry, Edward.”
“That’s quite alright,” he said. “Why don’t we get you back t
o your room now then you can rest.”
She nodded and he handed her the nightdress that lay discarded on the floor. She allowed him to help her to her room and he bent to give her a chaste kiss on the cheek.
“Edward, you have made me so happy,” she sighed as he backed away from her and exited through the door closing it firmly behind him.
After he had left, she stared at the closed door for a second, and then smiled. She had done it. She flung herself on the bed and laughed at how ridiculously easy it had been. She pulled the rope next to her bed, and waited for Harriet. The blood on the sheets had been a nice touch and she looked at the cut on her inner thigh. It would heal soon enough. The servants would all be talking about the soiled linens, she knew.
Harriet arrived and soon a bathtub was filled with hot water. It was promising to be a beautiful day, and her good mood would be mistaken for love. Now all she had to do was help two boys escape a prison ship. How hard could that be?
8
Georgiana sat on the pier next to Peter looking at the prison ship that lay on the south shore of the Thames. A dirty, foul-smelling river that London’s gutters emptied their sewage into. Human waste was not the most harmful ingredient in the water. Factory chemicals and poisons were far more likely to do them all in.
Georgiana took her eyes off the murky liquid of the river to study the ship. She could not make out its name for it was too dark, though she knew it already. The HMS Discovery had been turned into a prison hulk two years ago and now lay permanently moored at Woolwich Warren, her sails folded, and neglected. On shore next to the ship stood a maze of workshops, warehouses, barracks, and foundries.
“Are you sure this is where Price had them sent?” she asked.
Peter nodded and she sighed, knowing their determination would not necessarily serve them well, but they had no choice. They could not let Jack and Fleming remain there.
“Any ideas?” she muttered.
“We sneak on board and free them.”
“That’s it?” she said. “What about the guards or the other prisoners who will demand to be freed? And how do we get their shackles off?”
Peter held up a key.
“Is that going to work?”
“I paid enough for it,” he shrugged.
“Where did you get it?”
“A man who worked as a guard on the ship until last week.”
“What happened last week?”
“He was caught stealing the prisoner’s food and selling it.”
“So a man we can trust,” she said.
“Who can you trust?”
She ignored his quip. “What of the other prisoners? They won’t stay quiet.”
“We free them.”
“The other prisoners?”
“They’ll serve our purpose.”
“All of them?”
“No. Just enough.”
“Enough for what?”
“Enough to keep the guards busy, so we can slip away again with Jack and Fleming.”
“I see,” she said looking at the ship, and thinking about it. “That really is quite a good plan.”
The dockside was quiet but for occasional voices further along the road. Small waves lapped at the pier where they sat. She pulled her jacket closer as the winter night turned even colder.
“We are going to have to swim,” he said.
“I know,” she replied. “Boat is too visible. Christ, I’m freezing already just thinking about it. At least we know what to expect once we get on board.”
Carter Simmons, one of the new crew at Ravenstone, had been on board one of the prison ships, having escaped it himself. He had refused to leave Ravenstone to help them for fear of being caught again. But he had given an accurate description of where the prisoners were held. Even with his information, Georgiana felt fear churn inside her and twist her gut in spasms.
“You don’t have to come,” Peter said.
“And who would watch your back, if I didn’t?”
“I can take care of myself.”
“True,” she sighed. “But waiting here, I’d probably be eaten by rats before you get back.”
She shivered as she watched the rodents crawling over the corpse of a dead dog. A vibrating heap of scavengers, the sounds they made grated on her fragile nerves.
“Let’s get it over with,” she said and stood up.
She took her jacket and shoes off. Then, standing in only her breeches and shirt, she slipped into the freezing water and slowly swam toward the boat, trying not to think about what she was doing. She clamped her teeth together to stop them from chattering. Keeping her head out of the malodorous river, she stroked silently through the water.
Peter swam behind her while she kept her eyes on the ship that loomed in front of her. Approaching the vessel from the water had one advantage. None of the guards ever expected someone to try to break in that way, so they never bothered to look over the side at the water.
When she reached the hull, she slowly made her way to the anchor. On finding the gigantic rusted chain, she pulled herself up, her legs entwined to help hold her weight. She had to climb fast for she knew her strength could not hold her for long as the cold numbed her muscles.
When she reached the hawse, she slipped through the hole and slid to the wood deck below her. Her biceps shook from the climb, and she rubbed her arms to try to restore her muscles. Crates stacked on the deck provided a hiding place while she waited for Peter and kept a lookout for the guard who should have been on deck.
Then Peter was next to her and she followed him along the deck, their naked feet silent on the wood planks. He paused suddenly, and pulled her behind him to hide under a tarpaulin. She was shivering violently from the cold, her teeth shattering. Peter surprised her by wrapping his arms around her. At first, she stiffened at the contact, but the warmth radiating from his body felt so good, she moved closer to him. She tried not to think about the implications of being wrapped so completely in his embrace. She only knew the heat that came off his hard body in waves warmed her. She could feel his breath on the back of her neck, and she forced herself to remain still, as she heard the guard walking toward their hiding place.
Footsteps passed them, and they waited a few seconds before Peter stuck his head out again to see the guard walking away. They scooted along the deck, and she sighed in relief to see the guard walk in the opposite direction, his back to them. They paused at the ladder, listening, and then climbed below into the darkness. The ship stank of human waste, and they hid again in a dark corner when footsteps approached. When they finally made it to the hold, the stench had become overpowering. Georgiana felt the nausea that plagued every morning rise up and she choked it down, holding a hand over her mouth.
A guard stood beside the iron door, his head leaning against the wall as he dozed. Peter crept forward past him, opening the barred door. Its hinges creaked and Peter raised his fist ready to strike the guard, but the man continued to sleep peacefully. Peter looked at her, and she shrugged. He stepped cautiously into the hold.
The prisoners were shackled, two men per manacle. Georgiana stayed by the door, watching the guard sleep, while Peter moved between the prisoners who lay on the floor asleep. In the darkness, he stumbled over sleeping forms that woke at his approach. She heard him call out for Jack and Fleming, but he got no response. Prisoners were starting to stir, and the noise was sure to attract attention. She followed into the darkness as Peter edged deeper into the hold, whispering the boys’ names as he went.
Finally, he heard Fleming, but Jack was not with him.
“Where is Jack?” Peter asked as he used the key on the shackle that connected Fleming to the man next to him.
“I don’t know. We got separated when they first brought us aboard.”
Peter unlocked the shackles of two more men as he and Fleming made their way back to the door. They both called out Jack’s name, and got several replies. It would take too long to investigate them all. Peter bent to u
nlock more shackles, and soon men were calling out to him to help them.
Those released scrambled for the door, and Georgiana glanced out again to see the guard approaching, having been alerted to the noise within. He reached the door at the same time the newly released prisoners did and they pulled him into the dark hold. She heard fists hitting flesh. The guard let out one cry, which was quickly silenced.
Georgiana moved further into the hold calling for Jack and getting even more responses now, as suddenly everyone was Jack. She fumbled her way in the dark, listening for his voice, hoping she would recognize it. Peter continued to liberate prisoners, and a steady stream of men made their way up the ladder to the deck. A musket fired and the sound of feet running on the deck made Georgiana nervous. A man grabbed hold of her arm and jerked her toward him.
“Help me,” he demanded.
“I don’t have a key,” she said and tried to pull away, but he held fast. Angrily she said, “You will have to let me go, so I can get the key.”
“I don’t believe ya’s.”
She turned toward the sound of a voice she recognized, and decided to use her head. With a quick hard butt to the prisoner’s face with her forehead, she caused the man to cry out and released her. She wrestled free, making sure she stayed out of reach. Her head was pounding from the impact, but she ignored the pain.
“Jack, keep calling me,” she yelled above the now loud protest of those she passed. She made her way into the far corner of the hold where a group of young boys sat shackled together, and found Jack amongst them.
“He’s here,” she screamed above the other voices.
The noise on the deck took on the sounds of a battle. They would have to hurry before the other prison ships sent reinforcements.
Peter made his way to her and she stepped aside to allow him through. With Jack and the boys around him released, they quickly made their way to the door. Cries and curses followed them as those still shackled watched them leave. She gripped the ladder, which was slippery. She frowned and lifted her hand to her face to see blood on it. She almost fell as they made their way up to the deck where chaos reigned.
Raven's Shadow (Book 2, the Ravenstone Chronicles) Page 16