by Hatch, Donna
The clerk carefully wrote it all down and handed the paper to Jared to approve. Jared read it over, made one correction, and a final addition. He handed it back to the clerk and looked at each man in attendance one at a time.
The navy captain appeared poised to spring at his throat. The members of the jury returned his gaze, some in newfound respect, others with blatant distaste.
After a word with the Admiralty court, the clerk stood and declared; “John Black, your punishment to be hanged by the neck until dead, dead, dead.”
CHAPTER 26
Inside the drawing room of the Greymore’s London house, Elise dropped the newspaper and looked at Charlotte in dismay. “They’ve sentenced him and his crew to hang on Monday.”
Charles nodded grimly. “Officially, he’s an embarrassment. His brothers are working night and day to find some way to save him, but there’s no help from any quarter. We’ve even tried bribery. All has failed.” His voice was tight and angry. “All we’ve managed to do is ensure his family will gain immediate possession of his body instead of letting the ghouls who engage in dissection have it first.”
Elise put a hand over her mouth. A cold chill passed over her.
Greymore cursed and came to her. “Forgive me. I shouldn’t have said that.”
A footman came to the door. “The Earl and Countess Tarrington and company.”
“Show them in.” Greymore turned to Elise. “His family is here.”
Elise found herself nearly overwhelmed by the Amesburys. A handsome gentleman who could pass for Jared’s twin crossed the threshold. He bore a regal, commanding air and his eyes were as blue as sapphires. He lacked the hardness she’d first noticed in Jared, but Elise attributed that to the tall lady on his arm whose sweet face glowed with gentleness.
“Lord and Lady Tarrington.” Greymore bowed.
“Mr. Greymore, thank you for receiving us.” The earl’s rich bass could almost be mistaken for Jared’s.
Greymore introduced Charlotte and Elise to Lord Tarrington.
The earl gestured to his wife, his face softening. “My wife, Alicia, Lady Tarrington.”
The lady put a hand over her slightly swollen abdomen in an unconscious gesture ladies who are increasing often do and held out the other hand to Elise. “I’m very happy to meet the lady who finally tamed Jared’s wild heart.”
Elise could not think of an appropriate reply. Behind the earl and his countess came a younger gentleman. Elise gaped.
He was stunning. A younger, almost ethereal version of the earl and Jared, he stood every inch the height and breadth of his brothers. His eyes were a clear blue, so pale they almost seemed to glow, and his eyelashes were enviable. Unlike the other members of his family, his hair was golden. The only mar to his perfection was a small scar at his temple near one eye. The scar somehow only made him more intriguing.
The ladies on his arms both had the same rich, dark hair as Jared and the earl. They were undoubtedly sisters. The ladies had similar enough facial features to place them as relatives, but did not look enough like one another for Elise to have guessed they were twins. One lady appeared older, haughtier, with sharper features.
The earl continued, “My sisters, Margaret, Lady Hennessey.”
The haughty lady fixed an assessing stare upon Elise.
“And Miss Rachel Amesbury.” The other twin smiled warmly.
“And the youngest of our misbegotten bunch, Christian.”
As Elise turned to the blond gentleman, he smiled, warming her like a ray of sunshine spearing a storm cloud. Endowed with the same athletic grace as his brothers, he bowed over her hand. When he straightened, his blue gaze swept over her in a surprisingly assessing stare.
Elise had the urge to straighten and wondered if she looked as tattered as she felt.
Christian said, “I knew you’d be a remarkable lady to have won my brother’s heart. I see I was right.”
He had an intensity about him that caught Elise by surprise. She didn’t know why, but such high praise from this total stranger suddenly meant a great deal. Perhaps it was due to the affection Jared obviously felt for him. Or perhaps it was his air of quiet dignity normally only found in a peer.
Elise managed to reply, “He spoke of you often and with deep affection, Mr. Amesbury.”
He smiled again and Elise marveled how one family could have produced such magnificent men. “If I have my wish, I’ll be your brother-in-law soon. No need to stand on formality.”
The idea of marrying Jared flitted away like an impossible dream; there seemed little hope he could ever be freed. Tears swam in her eyes and she could not speak.
Christian gently enfolded both her hands in his. They were as large and strong as Jared’s but not nearly as calloused. “Courage,” he said softly. “We will not allow them to execute our brother.”
“Of course we won’t,” said the young Earl of Tarrington.
Christian released her hand as Tarrington approached Elise. He smiled down at her with a brotherly warmth that seemed at odds with his lordly presence. “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you. I wish the occasion of our meeting were more pleasant.” He looked so much like a safe and happy Jared that Elise’s eyes overflowed. His voice softened. “We’ll see this through, I vow it.”
Christian pressed a handkerchief into her hand. Elise wiped her tears, ashamed at her lack of decorum. A pair of slender arms went around her shoulders. Her tears distorted Lady Tarrington’s form next to her.
“What a load of ninnies you are! What’s to be done?” demanded Lady Hennessey.
Tarrington’s mouth twitched. “Quite right, Margaret. All right, Greymore, your friends got my brother into this fine mess. What are you going to do to get him out of it?”
Greymore looked pained.
The earl softened. “Sorry, old man, just a jest. I know he’d have hung years ago if it weren’t for their intervention.”
Charlotte rang for tea and they all sat. No one suggested the ladies leave while the men discussed the ugly predicament at hand.
“I’ve gone all the way to the top,” Mr. Greymore said. “I’ve been denied all aid. He was a rogue when the navy apprehended him and they refuse to sanction the actions he took after his assignment was completed.” No one sent a look of censure Elise’s way, though she deserved it since he took those actions for her sake.
“We could force their hand by going to the press,” Christian suggested. “Play up the angle of an honorable gentleman who served his country with loyalty is about to die.”
Greymore shook his head. “I’ve been assured if any word of this leaks, Jared will be dead within minutes.”
Elise drew in her breath sharply. “They’d do that?”
Greymore rubbed his eyes. “Of that I have no doubt.”
A pall fell over the group.
“Grant may have had success through his own channels,” Lord Tarrington said. “He’ll be here shortly.”
Christian grumbled, “Must we endure his presence?”
Tarrington grinned. “He may be the very devil, but he’s useful, on occasion.” He turned to Greymore. “Why don’t you fill us in on what you know while we wait?”
While Greymore parted with the somber news regarding his attempts at the Secret Service Headquarters, tea and a platter of sandwiches and cakes arrived. Despite the grave matters that brought them together, the family tucked into their meal. Eventually, they fell into jesting, taunting, and laughing, perfectly at ease. Their affection and camaraderie were infectious, in spite of the cracks they took at one another.
Christian had a quick wit that drew reluctant smiles out of Elise and pushed back the darkness that had fallen over her since Jared’s imprisonment. Rachel frequently exchanged glances with Christian as if they shared private jokes.
Margaret presided over them all like a queen, and a single look from her might have reduced lesser men to ash, but Tarrington matched her, even setting her back a time or two. And when she sent those
looks Christian’s way, he only threw back his own playful shots, making the imperious Margaret smile in spite of herself.
Next to Elise, Lady Tarrington occasionally touched Elise. At first, the contact surprised Elise, but Lady Tarrington’s touches were so full of compassion that Elise quickly warmed to her. As comfortable as if she’d known this gentle lady all her life, Elise clung to her.
“Mr. Grant Amesbury,” the butler intoned.
Grant Amesbury entered silently. Unlike his siblings, and in contradiction to his station, he wore the coarse clothes of a laborer and was dressed head to toe in black.
He bore only a vague resemblance to the Amesbury brothers. His hair was darker, almost black. Gray eyes held an aloof hardness and the lines of his visage were stern. A long, ragged scar ran down the side of his face. He would have made an even more convincing pirate than Jared.
As Lord Tarrington introduced them, his gaze passed over her, his expression chilling. Clearly, he blamed her for his brother’s fate. Because of her, Jared was locked in Newgate awaiting his execution.
Grant glanced back to the others who waited expectantly. He shook his head once.
Elise’s heart hammered in her chest as cold despair crept over her. “No,” she whispered.
Lady Tarrington put a hand over her mouth. Tarrington put his arm around her, his own face pale and drawn.
Christian jumped to his feet. “You’re going to let them execute him?”
“Calm yourself,” Grant replied in a rough voice. “I know what’s at stake.”
Christian moved to stand only inches from Grant. “You can’t simply give up.”
“I’ve done everything I can.”
Christian squared his shoulders, raising his head in determination. “Then it’s up to me.”
Grant let out a snort and said sarcastically, “Oh, of course, Chris, you have so much influence in my circles.”
“I have influence in circles closed to you.”
“Being the darling of society gives you influence to Almack’s and other frivolous enterprises of uselessness.”
“You don’t have enough imagination to guess where I have influence.”
Grant and Christian glared at one another with such ferocity that Elise feared they would come to blows. Seeing the gentle Christian so angry gave her pause. She wondered if they were lashing out at each other out of fear over the fate of their brother, or another matter entirely.
Suddenly, it became terrifyingly possible, despite his family and connections, Jared might truly die.
Her heart stopped at the thought. Elise leaped to her feet. “I need to see him.”
“Newgate is no place for a lady,” Mr. Greymore said firmly.
“I must see him. I must tell him ….” She choked. “Please. If you won’t help me, I’ll go alone.”
Wearily, Tarrington glanced at Grant and Christian who stood nose to nose locked in a silent battle of wills.
“Hail a hackney,” Elise ordered a footman when no one moved. She went for her pelisse.
Christian broke eye contact with Grant. “Don’t go alone.”
As he took a breath to say more, Tarrington interjected. “No, indeed. I shall accompany you.”
Grant said, “I’ll take her. I’ve been in and out enough that I can do it quickly and easily. Wouldn’t want to sully your good name by having the new Earl of Tarrington visiting an inmate of Newgate.” He spoke as if he meant it as an insult.
Tarrington nodded once and made a shooing motion. “Go.”
Christian turned away, but not in time to conceal the frustration in his eyes. She wondered if his brothers were always treating him like the baby, instead of the man he’d become.
“We’ll go after dark,” Grant said, his chill gaze passing over Elise.
Elise glanced at Grant narrowly, knowing she should trust him, but almost afraid to be alone with this intimidating stranger.
“I’ll see you safely in and out,” Grant snapped as if her mistrust besmirched his honor.
Lady Tarrington patted her arm and nodded. She smiled at Grant, something mysterious in her eyes, as if she knew a secret about him.
Grant glared at her in return.
Not the least intimidated, Lady Tarrington positively beamed. She leaned in to Elise. “Don’t let Grant bully you. He likes to play the unfeeling cad, but he’ll protect you with all the gallantry of a knight.”
Grant folded his arms. “Your wife is delusional, Cole.”
The earl grinned. “You just keep believing it, little brother.”
Grant made a sound of disgust. “Women. Always making something out of nothing.”
“I can’t wait to see the day when you fall in love, Grant,” Lady Tarrington said with an impish glint in her eye.
Christian choked. “Grant in love?”
“Over my dead body,” Grant snarled.
“No respectable lady would have him,” Christian said.
Tarrington grinned. “Perhaps he’ll fall for a footpad, or a murderess. Someone disreputable.”
All the Amesbury siblings snickered. Grant folded his arms and glowered until they turned the discussion to other matters.
Outside, darkness fell, and Grant finally gave Elise a brief nod. He hailed a hackney and they departed. An unusually thick fog, even for London, enshrouded the streets and swirled eerily around the hackney winding along the dark streets of London.
Elise watched Grant’s shadowed face and repressed the urge to rub her hands over her arms.
“I understand you also served in the war,” Elise ventured.
Grant nodded, sitting utterly still and staring out the window.
Elise frowned. She’d always heard women speak wistfully of the strong, silent type, but after having met one, Elise decided she liked the playful, roguish type. Like Jared.
Jared.
Disbelief and hopelessness fell over her again.
Glumly, she eyed Grant. “You blame me for your brother’s predicament, don’t you?”
“He vows you were a victim, but no woman is ever innocent.”
He shot such a freezing stare upon her that she held her tongue for the remainder of their journey. And rubbed her hands over her arms.
The hackney stopped in front of an innocuous brick building. Grant surprised her by handing her out. As she stared, he raised a brow, almost looking amused. Almost.
They were admitted into the office, a small room with two windows overlooking the Old Bailey. It seemed ordinary, like a professional office; neat, clean, with crisp wainscoting.
A respectable-looking man with graying hair greeted Grant with familiarity. “Weapons, Mr. Amesbury?”
Grant opened his coat and retrieved a frightening number of guns, knives and daggers, all of which he laid on the desk.
The man lifted a brow and attempted humor. “Traveling lighter than usual, eh?”
Grant fixed him with a cold stare.
The man cleared his throat. “Right. And my lady.” He turned to Elise. “I’m sure you don’t carry weapons.”
Elise opened her reticule and retrieved a tiny pistol. She set it carefully on the table next to Grant’s armory. “Just this one, sir.”
Grant lifted a brow. “You can shoot a gun.” His voice reflected his disbelief.
“Ask Jared how we met, sometime,” she said smugly.
The officer turned to a junior clerk. “Bring the turnkey, please. Who are you here to see tonight, Mr. Amesbury?”
“John Black.”
The officer lifted his eyebrows. “The pirate Black Jack? A friend of yours?”
Without blinking, Grant replied evenly, “I have unusual friends.”
The officer’s laugh sounded more like a cough. “You’re questioning him for a case, right?” Grant waited, giving nothing away and the officer uncomfortably cleared his voice. “Please sign your names here, sir.” He indicated a large book.
After they signed and the officer had also affixed his signature, he put aw
ay their weapons. Moments later, a hunched man entered wearing a respectable suit and carrying a heavy ring of keys.
“Show these people to John Black’s cell, if you please.”
The turnkey nodded. “Thi’ way, guv’nuh.”
He led them to a heavy oak gate, bound with iron, and studded with nails. Another turnkey stood guard. They nodded to each other and the second guard opened the gate to a dismal passageway made of stone running parallel to the Old Bailey.
The turnkey led them confidently along a maze of passages, turning at some junctions, passing straight on through others until Elise completely lost her bearings. If she’d been alone, she would have been terrified. She was actually grateful for the intimidating Grant at her side. Heavy doors and guards barred each new corridor. No prisoner could ever dream of escaping.
They followed the turnkey in and out of the shadows along a passageway. Her feet slipped with every step on the damp and slimy stone floor and she had to step carefully. Gloom battled with guttering, smoking candles set too far apart to give any real light. The stench of human waste and sickness nauseated her. Rats scurried at the sound of their footsteps and Elise clamped her mouth closed lest she cry out in alarm.
Beside her, Grant moved like a phantom, his grim presence as unnerving as the prison itself. The smells worsened. She’d never dreamed such filth existed. She nearly gagged, but left her perfumed handkerchief in her reticule, unwilling to show a sign of weakness in Grant’s company. He would no doubt only sneer at her for coming.
Occasionally, a moan seeped from the other side of a doorway, reminding her some wretched soul lived in misery within these walls.
She glanced at Grant. Though his brother had been forced to live here for nearly two weeks, he maintained an expressionless façade. He either had no feelings on the matter or was masterful at hiding them.
The turnkey stopped at a door and fitted a key into the lock. The door opened with a squeal, revealing a tiny room lit by a single candle sitting on the floor. A form crouched on a low, narrow cot.
“Grant.” Jared’s voice met them as the shadowy form straightened and stepped forward. “Elise. What are you doing here? Grant! You shouldn’t have brought her.”