The war between France and England was raging, so it was only natural that Caroline's skills as a cryptologist would be employed more frequently. Still, to this day, Sophia had no idea who trained her aunt in the skill of deciphering codes, but her work intrigued Sophia and left her in awe.
Caroline had been summoned to The Tempest to decipher a document Captain Wallace had retrieved from the enemy. She'd brought Sophia along, and she could still remember the intimidating presence of the surly sea captain who seemed to have the world at his command.
He'd been upset that Sophia had come with Caroline, so much so that he treated her with great disdain. Though Aunt Caroline rebuked him for his surliness, it didn't seem to matter much to the arrogant captain, who never took a liking to Sophia the entire time she was aboard his ship.
When orders came in that The Tempest was to deliver Caroline to Malta where her services were needed to decipher more documents, Caroline had no choice but to bring Sophia along. Captain Wallace was furious and ordered her to remain below deck the entirety of the voyage, which was simply not acceptable to Sophia.
Being headstrong and rebellious herself, Sophia often defied the Captain's orders, leaving him reeling with anger. More than once he'd threatened to have her flogged, and she was certain he would have done it too, if not for Aunt Caroline's interference.
Needless to say, Sophia didn't hold the Captain in high regard, but she knew he might very well be the only person to assist her in her time of need. She said a silent prayer that she'd be able to find him and that he'd know of Aunt Caroline's whereabouts as she headed straight for the nearest pub, hoping desperately that she'd find him inside.
The eight days journey from Bedfordshire to Cornwall seemed much longer to Samuel. It had been a grueling trek filled with concern. He'd been insanely frustrated on the first three days of the journey, unable to find Sophia and fearing that he never would. He'd almost decided to turn home when it seemed that fate had intervened.
Nestled into a far corner table in a shoddy pub in Bristol, almost midway between London and Cornwall, Samuel had been nursing a mug of ale when a sight for sore eyes entered the pub looking even more haggard than he felt. Though the person appeared as a boy, he at once recognized the shapely form of Sophia's breeches clad legs; he'd recognize them anywhere.
The desire to go to her and take her over his knee was overpowering, but he refrained. Instead, he decided to follow her and see if she were indeed traveling on to Cornwall. It had been a difficult decision for Samuel to make, for what he really wanted to do was retrieve her and assist her to the comfort and safety of home. Pushing aside his concern, he quickly replaced it with duty. He had been enlisted by The Crown to determine if she were innocent or guilty of treason, and so far, he'd been unable to prove either.
It was perhaps the hardest thing Samuel had ever had to do, place his inherent desire for the woman aside in exchange for duty, but he knew he couldn't allow his love for her to overshadow the fact that she could be a danger to England.
Once he proved her innocent, which he was certain he would do, he'd pursue the vexing chit and demand she wed him so he could protect her for the rest of his life. But until then, he had work to do.
A niggling voice of doubt ate at him, however. The discovery that she'd been attempting to correspond with Captain Wallace was rather incriminating. Ironically enough, the day after he'd stolen her letter to the Captain, he'd received word from the Main Office that the informant from Cornwall was Captain Wallace himself. He'd been the one who'd turned Sophia in, stating she'd been passing information into enemy hands.
The fact that she was still attempting to contact the man after all this time did not bode well for either one of them, for it made Samuel wonder if either Sophia was unaware that Captain Wallace had ratted her out or suspect that the Captain might be involved in treason as well.
Of course, there was another option. Perhaps Sophia was completely innocent, and this Captain Wallace was simply trying to incriminate her for reasons he couldn't understand. This theory made it so that Samuel couldn't find it in him to turn her over to Whitehall, not until he knew with absolute certainty that she was guilty of treason. Until then, he'd do whatever it took to discover the truth, even if that meant following her to the ends of the earth.
He kept a safe distance as he watched her saunter down the docks and speak with a seaman. Though he wasn't sure what words the pair exchanged, he was certain that the correspondence did not make Sophia happy. He watched in amusement as she huffed down the dock, a look of annoyance on her lovely face.
His eyes never left her as she advanced to the nearest pub, situated conveniently close to the docks, a hub of entertainment for the ship's crews that came into port. He leaned back in his saddle and prepared to wait for her as long as was necessary.
The muggy atmosphere of the pub made it hard for Sophia to breath. The place was packed with sweaty bodies that had likely not seen a bath in months, and most of the men were smoking cigars, leaving the air putrid with stench. She pulled the neck of her shirt up to cover her mouth and nose, attempting to use the thin fabric as a filter, but it didn't help. With disgust, she dropped her shirt back into place and advanced further into the darkly lit room.
Her shrewd eyes scanned the men until they settled on the menacing figure of Captain Wallace himself. For a moment, she nearly forgot her facade as a man and gave out a feminine squeal. Luckily, the noise in the pub overpowered her squeal, and no one was the wiser.
Captain Wallace sat at a round table with several other seamen. His raven black hair was pulled back in a queue, his tricorn hat abandoned on the chair beside him. Sophia took a moment to stare at the man she detested, willing herself to get the courage to confront him.
He was undeniably handsome, with his tan skin and lean, muscular body. She knew he moved with a litheness that resembled a lion but feared he was even more dangerous. She'd seen him on deck without his shirt once and knew his back was full of scars, though she never dared ask about them. Though Captain Wallace was dangerously attractive, his brusqueness was off-putting. His rough treatment of her had forever tainted her opinion of the man.
Inhaling a deep breath of rotten air, Sophia squared her shoulders and advanced to his table. She stood close to the captain for several seconds before he finally acknowledged her presence.
Without even looking her in the face, he sneered, “What do you want, boy?”
“A moment of your time is all.”
Captain Wallace's head turned slowly as his black-as-death eyes finally settled upon her face. Though his expression didn't change in the least, she could tell by the slight alteration in his eyes that he recognized her at once.
Taking a deep swig of his ale, he slammed the mug down on the table before him and rose. “Men, I must take my leave. Enjoy your time on shore and don't forget to report back to The Tempest on time.”
“Aye, Captain,” the men around the table said in unison as they watched with wide eyes as their captain grabbed the young man by the arm and led him angrily away from the group.
Sophia prickled with anger. How dare he lay a hand on her? She waited until he led her behind the large stone fireplace at the far end of the room before pulling her arm angrily from his grasp.
“Don't touch me,” she commanded, not even bothering to disguise her voice.
Ignoring her ire, he hissed, “Where is Caroline?”
Sophia reeled back on her heels. “That's precisely why I sought you out, to discover the same thing. Do you know where my aunt is? I need her help desperately.”
A look of fear crossed his face, betraying his usually stoic nature. Something wasn't right. “I haven't seen her for months.”
“Where could she be?” Sophia asked fearfully, hoping, somehow, he was wrong.
“I had supposed she traveled to London for the end of the season, or perhaps to the north country to visit her family.”
“No, she never came. I haven't had word fro
m her in months either.”
Captain Wallace slammed his fist angrily against the stone hearth. He didn't even cringe, but Sophia did. That had to hurt.
“Fiend seize it, you are the bearer of bad news. I fear for her life.”
The hairs on her arms stood up. “Why do you fear that? Is there something you're not telling me?”
He quickly scanned the room to ascertain that they were alone before dragging her once more to another smaller room. Sophia had no time to ask what he was doing before he pulled open a trap door that had been completely hidden to her view and shoved her inside.
She landed with a humph on the cold, dirt floor below and waited for him to join her before asking, “Where are you taking me?” She didn't trust the man and began fearing she'd made a mistake coming to him.
“Follow me,” he ordered in a voice that clearly stated he wanted no objection from her before turning and leaving her alone in the dark.
Sophia ran to catch up with his long strides, hating the creepy darkness that surrounded her. They weaved in and out of tunnels that smelled of damp dirt and mildew. Sophia tried not to think about it too much because the realization that they were weaving through underground tunnels that could collapse at any time made her feel quite claustrophobic.
Eventually, they came to a dead end, and Captain Wallace began clearing away large boulders as if they weighed nothing at all. Sophia sighed in relief as light infiltrated the tunnels, along with fresh air, exposing the world outside. Squeezing through the small opening, Captain Wallace then turned and offered her his assistance. She ignored his outreached hand and squeezed through the opening unaided.
Squinting against the sun's brightness, she took in her surroundings and realized they were standing on a rocky beach. Captain Wallace quickly replaced the boulders then barked, “Get in the boat.”
For the first time, Sophia noticed a small boat bobbing in the water. “No. Not until you tell me where you are taking me.”
A low growl rumbled in his chest. It was clear he didn't like her insubordinate behavior. “You can get in of your own accord, or I will put you in. The choice is yours.”
Sophia stood with hands on her hips, glaring at him. “Tell me where we are going, and I'll gladly get inside.”
It was clear that patience was not a virtue the Captain possessed when he stepped forth and tossed her at once over his shoulder before plopping her down on the hard seat. “Are all you Whitworth women so headstrong?” he grumbled as he picked up the oars and began rowing furiously.
“If by headstrong you mean independent, then yes, we most certainly are. Neither I, nor my Aunt Caroline, appreciate when brutish men try and boss us around.”
For a moment, his rowing slowed as a look of amusement spread across his face. Cocking one dark brow high on his forehead, he smirked, “I'm not certain you know your aunt as well as you think you do. I know for a fact that she quite likes a man who can take command of a... situation.”
Sophia's upper lip curled into a sneer as she looked at Captain Wallace with repulsion. “You don't know Aunt Caroline at all if that's what you think.”
“Perhaps,” he purred, “I know her better than you think.”
Sophia turned her head away from his piercing gaze. She refused to believe his insinuations. Aunt Caroline had better judgment of character, she was certain. “Where are you taking me?” she finally asked, tersely.
With the flick of his head, he glanced back at The Tempest. “Isn't it obvious?”
“I refuse to board that awful ship.”
“And I refuse to discuss matters further unless we're on board, in the privacy of my cabin.”
“Unless you know where Aunt Caroline is, I have no further need to discuss anything with you.”
“Oh, I wouldn't be so sure about that. You may not have much to say to me, but I can assure you I have plenty to discuss with you.”
“Not if I jump overboard and swim to shore,” she threatened as she stood, rocking the boat.
Captain Wallace snarled. “You wouldn't dare run away.”
“Oh, but I would,” she insisted as she moved towards the edge, “and there's nothing you can do to stop me.”
“You're correct. Though there's nothing that would prevent me from sending word to the authorities.”
His bold claim gave Sophia pause. “Why would you do that? I'm no criminal.”
“Are you not?”
“Of course I'm not, and well you know it,” she nearly yelled.
His dark eyes squinted into skeptical slits. “I have information that points to the contrary, my lady.”
The thought of jumping overboard was starting to sound more and more appealing, though she feared the consequences if she did. With her hands balled into tight fists, Sophia spat out, “Tell me of what you are referring.”
“Not until we're safely aboard The Tempest. If you'd kindly sit yourself down, I could get us there faster.”
It took several seconds of contemplating before Sophia finally sat down, but even then, she wasn't willing to concede to the Captain. “What if you're taking me to your ship for sinister reasons?”
“Such as?”
“To have your way with me,” she quipped boldly.
“Ha! You mistake my character if you think that is my intent. I swear to you the only thing I want to transpire between us is conversation.”
“I don't trust you.”
“Likewise, my lady.”
With no satisfying conclusion to the irritating conversation, they pulled up to the side of The Tempest which looked enormous from their current vantage point.
“How'd you purpose we get inside?” Sophia asked with a mixture of curiosity and annoyance.
Ignoring her question, Captain Wallace went to work. Several large ropes were hanging down the side of the ship, which he deftly latched into place on the metal rings of the boat. When he was finished, he let out an ear-splitting whistle, causing Sophia to flinch.
Before she knew what was happening, the boat was being yanked upwards, a few inches at a time, causing her to jerk back and forth violently. Her hands snaked out and clasped to the sides of the boat to steady herself as she looked over the side to see that indeed, they were now several feet in the air.
Once they reached the upper deck, Captain Wallace, without any warning, grabbed her by the waist and threw her over the railing. She stumbled on the deck but caught her balance as he, with lithesome grace, joined her.
Without even thanking the crew who had hoisted them up, Captain Wallace took off across the deck, clearly expecting Sophia to follow. Seeing as she had no other option, she did, anxious to get to the bottom of this.
He led her to his private quarters which was much finer than any other part of the ship she had seen, and she'd seen quite a bit on her previous voyage. It was decorated in deep shades of red and blue with polished mahogany accents. He led her to his desk, uncorked a decanter of illegal French brandy and poured them each a glass.
Sophia sniffed the drink before setting it aside and asking impatiently, “Why have you brought me here?”
Setting down his glass, he propped his booted feet up on the desk between them, laced his fingers together behind his head and said, “I know you're a traitor. The question I want answered now is this; is Caroline as well?”
“What? No! You are mistaken. Neither one of us are traitors.”
“I didn't think you'd be honest with me. Pity, I had such hopes for Caroline. Thought she might be different.”
“Different than what?”
“All the others,” he replied vaguely, a faraway look in his eye. Then, snapping his attention back to Sophia he said, “You brought great scrutiny upon my ship, and its crew. I don't like undue attention, especially from The Crown.”
“You're talking in riddles. Are you certain you're not mistaking me for someone else?”
“Positive. It was you that delivered a letter for Bragg, was it not?”
It took Sophia
several minutes to remember what he was referring to. It felt like ages since her trip aboard his ship, and she'd nearly forgotten such an insignificant event. Right before she and Caroline were set to disembark from The Tempest, she'd been approached by the ship's boatswain, a man known to her simply as Bragg. She'd been caught off guard by his approach, seeing as the two had never exchanged words before, but kindly gave him a moment of her time. During their brief exchange, he'd procured a letter and asked her to deliver it for him, explaining they had no shore leave and would soon be departing for ports unknown.
She could still recall the sad look in his eyes as he explained, with remorse, that he'd fathered a child while on shore leave a year prior. He quickly explained that the woman now wanted nothing to do with him and wouldn't allow him to see his son. He told Sophia that the letter was an apology, along with a substantial portion of his earnings that he wished to give to help aid in his son's care. Sophia had believed him and done as he asked.
Finally, she admitted in a small voice, “I did deliver a letter to his former lover, yes.”
Captain Wallace's feet dropped loudly to the floor. He pushed himself to standing then leaned across his desk and growled in her face, “You aided the enemy in times of war.”
His disgusted tone unnerved her, but not nearly as much as his vulgar accusation. Sophia rose to her feet, grateful for once that she was tall for a woman, as her height allowed her to look him directly in the face as she hissed, “I did no such thing.”
“But you just admitted you did. I've already alerted Whitehall of your treason. There will be no escaping punishment now.”
Sophia took a step back from his menacing glare, shaking her head violently. “You speak lies, sir. If Whitehall suspected me of treason, they'd have sent someone to spy on me, to prove my guilt.”
The minute the words escaped her mouth, she gasped, thinking of Samuel. Her blood ran cold. Could that explain his presence at Goldborne Hall? Had Samuel been spying on her, not protecting her? Suddenly, Sophia felt as if she needed to cast up her accounts. She felt like she was living in some strange nightmare. Nothing made sense to her anymore, nothing at all.
The Earl's Dangerous Assignment (Unlikely Pairs Book 3) Page 10