One of Gabe’s best friends, Captain Hawk—also known as Marcus Thorne—had once commanded The Avenger. Now the ship was Gabe’s…as long as he could get away from the Royal Navy’s vessel heading right for them.
“Captain, we are picking up speed.”
Gabe lowered his spyglass and settled his attention on his first mate, Rufus Daughtery. The wind whipped the man’s long blond hair around his face in disarray. Out here in the sun, the strawberry tint to Rufus’ hair was more prominent. Needless to say, Rufus would definitely stand out in a crowd.
“That we are, Rufus.” Gabe glanced at his crew. “It appears Commodore Billingsford is determined to see me hanged.”
Rufus took a step closer and squinted in the direction of their attacker. “Is that who is after us?”
“It is.” Gabe gritted his teeth.
“If I might say, Captain, that man will stop at nothing to get his prize. He has a reputation that precedes him. Good men quake in their boots when he is near.”
Gabe looked through is spyglass again. “The man has the most wicked eyes I have ever seen.”
“I must agree with you. Commodore Billingsford is the spawn of Satan himself.”
Gabe blew out an irritated breath. “I feel the wind is on our side today. Let us pray it continues.”
“I know the good Lord will keep it that way.”
Gabe nodded. “The Lord knows our purpose in freeing ourselves from Britain’s hold, and I believe He is certainly assisting us on this fine day.” He turned back to the ocean and lifted his spyglass again. “However, I would truly like to know how the Royal Navy knew we were here in the first place. The Avenger has been out of commission for a few months. How would they know where we were headed this time?”
“Do you think there is a spy among us?” Rufus asked in a lower voice.
Gabe swung around and faced his friend. Rufus’ panicked expression mirrored the way Gabe felt. “I pray there is not, but I know not how to explain today’s mishap.” Sighing, he raked his fingers through his hair. “Today’s near capture was too close. I do not want it happening again.” He glanced over his shoulder at the Royal Navy—their vessel slowly getting smaller. “If the wind changes, we may not make our escape after all.”
From the other ship, a booming noise shook the air around them. The cannon landed in the water, splashing water on Gabe and Rufus. Gabe strolled to the railing of the quarter deck and shouted more commands at his crew to pick up speed.
His friend jumped back, his face hard with anger. “What in the blazes do they think they are doing?” Rufus snapped. “Why did they waste a cannonball when they knew it would not get to us?”
“Commodore Billingsford is arrogant. I believe he truly thought he could hit our ship. Or frighten us into surrendering.”
“They are all bloody imbeciles—every last one.”
“They are.” Gabe scrubbed his hand over his unshaven jaw. “Unfortunately, they did get close enough to see us.”
“What do you mean?” Rufus’ eyebrow lifted.
“They were watching us through their spyglass—just as I watched them.” Gabe sighed with a frown. “Once we are able to hide the ship and go on land, I think they will be looking for us.” His gaze shifted to Rufus’ thick patch of strawberry-blond hair. “And unfortunately, we are both easy men to spot because of our hair color.”
“What do you suggest we do, Captain?”
Another canon boomed through the air, but fell short of hitting its mark. Thankfully, it wasn’t as close as the first one. The Avenger was definitely gaining speed. Gabe was confident the crew would be able to reach their destination without getting caught, but they would all have to go into hiding for a while.
“Once we reach port,” Gabe answered his friend, “I will instruct everyone to go into hiding. I think we all need to stay someplace we haven’t been. That’s the only way. We also may need to alter our appearance.”
“How do you suggest we do that?”
Gabe shrugged. “By any means we can obtain. In fact, I know of a woman—”
“Of course you do,” Rufus interrupted with a snicker. “And a lot of women know you very well, Captain.”
Gabe rolled his eyes and tried not to grin. True, he’d become a ladies’ man in the past few years…but that was neither here nor there. “As I was saying,” he continued, “I know an older woman who can dye hair. Perhaps I shall pay her a visit and see what she can do with mine.” He lifted his attention to Rufus’ head. “And I suggest you follow my example.”
“I shall, Captain.”
With a nod, Gabe ended their conversation and strolled back toward the end of the ship so he could finish watching the Royal Navy’s vessel that was almost out of sight now. Over the past ten or so years, there had been many times he’d almost been captured by the enemy. One particular time came to mind. He was in Philadelphia working as a servant to his friend, William Braxton. A mysterious woman spy had taken interest in him, which had excited Gabe. At the time, he thought she was a Patriot, but she turned out to be evil. In the end, he had to kill her before she killed his friend, William.
That was when Gabe realized the lengths of dedication and devotion he’d go through for the right cause. Breaking free of Britain’s hold was worth sacrificing one’s life. One day his—and his fellow comrades, the Sons of Liberty—would be rewarded for their allegiance.
Gabe had always been one step ahead of the King’s Navy, which was why today’s near-capture had him worried. Could there be a spy amongst them as Rufus had suggested? Most of these men he knew from when he was first-mate to Captain Hawk not more than sixteen months ago. Back then, there were many spies, some they didn’t know about until Gabe and Marcus almost lost their lives. So why not now?
Growling, Gabe tightened his fingers around the railing. He needed to weed them out, yet how could he accomplish such a feat while he was in hiding? Regardless, he must find a way. The Sons of Liberty and the Patriots relied on Gabe and his crew to help fight in the ocean. He could not…would not let them down!
Chapter Two
Can this day possibly get any worse?
Emiline’s legs wobbled as she raised out of the mud pit she and her maid had been thrown in. Her heartbeat still hammered out of control, and the spinning in her head hadn’t subsided. She glanced up the small slope to where the vehicle had rolled before stopping in the muck.
One minute they were riding along just fine, and the next minute, the coach jerked fitfully and flipped over. Within seconds, the door had broken open, throwing both Emiline and Anna out.
Anna groaned and rose to her feet, but slipped and fell on her backside once again.
“Here, let me help,” Emiline offered, holding out a shaky hand.
Once Anna was standing, she tried to swipe the mud off her dress but it mostly stuck on her fingers. “What happened?” Her voice shook.
Emiline examined the scene closer—over turned coach with broken door, but the four wheels were still held together and connected to the vehicle. Where the horses had run off to, she didn’t know. “I wish I knew what happened. Perhaps the vehicle hit a large rock and overturned.”
“I can’t see the driver.”
Panic raced through her blood. “Neither can I.” Emiline lifted her soaked skirt and walked to the knoll not far from them. “He’s not down in the ravine…although our trunks are.” She searched again, this time calling, “Sir? Driver? Where are you?” She turned toward Anna and shrugged.
“Heavens, Lady Sarah. Your face has smudges all over it.”
Emiline swiped the mud off her face, knowing she probably made it worse.
“Oh, Lady Sarah, this has been the worst day of my life, and yours as well. I blame your uncle and his selfishness for putting us in this predicament.” She pouted and slipped again, but Emiline caught her maid’s elbow, steadying her.
Sighing heavily, Emiline nodded. “I agree. Today has been simply horrid. But we must not blame Uncle Olive
r. Not fully, anyway. This senseless world in which we live has many emotions running high. People don’t always make the best decisions when they are angry.” She glanced up and down the empty road, then searched for their driver. “Sad to think we have only been in New Hampshire for a few hours and already we have had a very trying day.”
“I want to return home to London.” Anna sniffed. “Oh, Lady Sarah, look at your dress.” She brushed her hands over Emiline’s traveling dress, but only managed to smear the caked on dirt instead of remove it.
“Not to worry, Anna. Since this was something we could not avoid, we should not fret. However, I wonder what happened to our driver.” She scanned the area once more. “Without him, how shall we get to our destination?”
“Oh, dear. Do you suppose he’s terribly hurt from being thrown?”
Silently, Emiline grumbled. If only the soldiers had stayed with them the whole journey, perhaps she and her maid wouldn’t be in this predicament. Then again, in order for Emiline to begin her charade, she was relieved the others had turned back toward Boston. “I cannot see any trace of him. Unless…” She sucked in a breath and trudged through the mire toward the overturned coach. “I pray he’s not trapped underneath.”
“Oh, Lord no!” Anna moved around the other side of the vehicle. “He’s not here, either.”
Worry seized Emiline’s throat and she walked slowly around the vehicle, hoping she didn’t see any feet sticking out...or heaven forbid, a head! “I cannot see him underneath.” At least she prayed he wasn’t completed crushed and sucked into the wet ground. But she felt he wasn’t. Something else happened to him. It was like he’d…disappeared. Very strange, indeed.
“I want to go home,” Anna whined again.
Emiline nodded, but at the same time she wished her maid would stop complaining. “Unfortunately, we cannot. Until my father and uncle settle the uproar happening in Boston, we are safer here.”
“I know, but being here in an unfamiliar town is just as frightening.”
“Very true.”
Anna released another cry and pointed to the bottom of the hill. “How will we retrieve our trunks?”
Heaving a sigh, Emiline rubbed her forehead. The tic behind her eyes threatened to expand into a huge pound before too long. If only she could go back to this morning and start all over from when she crawled out of bed, maybe things would have worked out better. Then again, if she could go back to eight weeks ago, she’d still be in London. Yes, that would be much better. Obviously, she’d made the wrong choice to accompany her father. But she had never been to the colonies, and she was eager for a new adventure in her hum-drum life. She was also eager to see the land where her mother was born and raised.
Emiline adjusted her crooked bonnet and tightened the bows under her chin—now dripping with filth. At least she could act dignified, even though she appeared far from it at the moment.
From up the road, the rumble of another coach pulled her from her thoughts. She held her breath, hoping good fortune had decided to smile upon them after all. Anna scooted closer to her side and clutched Emiline’s arm.
The vehicle slowed as it neared, the driver’s gaze roaming over both Emiline and her maid. Emmie wanted to sigh aloud but didn’t dare. The coach appeared to be one of someone with wealth. The gold crest of eagle wings on the door hinted that the vehicle’s owner could possibly be noble.
Once the horses stopped, the driver shifted on his seat, leaning toward them. “What’s happened here?”
Emiline took a step closer. “We are stranded, Sir. Our coach overturned, and we cannot find the driver.”
The door to the vehicle opened and a head poked out mere seconds before the man’s frame followed. Emiline’s mouth hung open as she stared at the man emerging from inside. Very tall, and muscular, she couldn’t believe someone so robust would be incredibly handsome as well. His dark brown hair was pulled back away from his face and secured with a leather tie. Dark brown eyes widened as he gazed over both Emiline and Anna’s appearance. Never in her life had she felt so unclean before, but concern registered on the man’s face even though she and Anna looked a fright!
“What happened?” The handsome man glanced at the wrecked vehicle.
“I wish I knew. We were riding along smoothly, then the wheel must have hit something and we were thrown into the mud.” She pointed to the sloping hill just off the road. “Our trunks ended down at the bottom, but I can’t seem to locate the driver.”
He blew a heavy sigh between his teeth, and it whistled. “I’m relieved to know you are unharmed. Where are you heading, may I ask?”
“Mr. and Mrs. Hampton’s estate—”
“Henry and Martha Hampton?” His gaze slid over both women once again before his eyes widened. “Are you perhaps their guests from London?”
Emiline hitched a breath in surprise. “Indeed, we are from London.”
He studied them again, slower this time, until he rested his gaze on Emiline’s maid, Anna. He smiled. “Then you must be Lady Sarah Townshend.”
Emiline held her breath, praying Anna would remember what they’d discussed this past week. The charade. But what if Anna forgot…or heaven help her, what if the maid was too frightened? Quickly, before Anna could respond, Emiline squeezed her maid’s hand and said, “Yes, this is Lady Sarah Townshend. I am her companion.”
Anna’s wide-eye expression clashed with Emiline’s, but she gave her maid a small reassuring smile and nod to follow along.
The handsome man tilted his head toward Emiline. “And does Lady Sarah’s companion have a name as well?”
Emiline swallowed hard. “Indeed she does. You may call me Miss Emmie.” Before her mother died, she’d called her my little Emmie. So…from henceforth—or at least during their stay in New Hampshire—she’d finally be known as Emmie.
He bowed. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both of you.” When he straightened, he turned to his driver and motioned. “Come help me assist these two lovely ladies.” He shrugged out of his waistcoat and laid it across the lip of the coach. The driver jumped down. The younger man pointed toward the vehicle. “Let’s see if we can turn this aright.”
“Splendid idea.” Emiline cheered. “I shall help as well.” She glanced at Anna who still looked a loss for words. “Lady Sarah, please stand over there so you don’t hurt yourself.”
“Uh, I—I think I should help, too. More hands are better.”
The handsome man held up his hand, stopping Anna. “Please, my lady. I fear you may strain yourself if you try to help.” He paused and looked at Emmie. “I think you should stand aside with your lady. My driver and I can see to the matter ourselves.”
“Nonsense. I’m very adept. I think you should allow me to assist.” Emmie lifted her chin, challenging the man.
Shrugging, he walked to the coach. “Suit yourself. My uncle taught me never to argue with a woman.”
“Wise man.” She chuckled.
Emmie hurried to the handsome stranger, admiring the way he looked in that beige shirt once he’d removed his neck cloth. His throat muscles captured her attention first, then the way the material hung on his wide shoulders and tapered down his broad chest to tuck into his breeches. Although it was most improper to admire the way he looked so masculine in his clothes, it was hard to stop.
She wanted to wave her hand in front of her face to cool herself from such wicked thoughts, but then he looked over his shoulder at her and smiled, which nearly melted her legs right from underneath her.
“If this is too much for you Miss Emmie, please don’t push yourself. I would hate for you to get injured.”
She wanted to chuckle at his remark. Little did people know, Emmie did things a duke’s daughter should not do—and her father had scolded her several times in the past year because of her stubbornness. She rather liked being her own woman. “I assure you, I know my limits.”
He nodded, turned and grabbed a section of the vehicle. Together the three of them lifted, pushed
, and set the coach aright. Immediately, Emmie studied the space where the overturned vehicle had lain. Thankfully, her driver had not been trapped underneath. Yet the thought still remained…where had he gone?
The nice man placed his hands on each wheel, pulling to assure they still were in working order. His driver had found where the horses had wandered off, brought them back and hitched them up. Then the two men lugged their trunks up the hill and lashed them back to the vehicle.
“It appears everything is in working condition, except for the broken door.”
“We shall drive without a door, then.” Emmie smiled.
Wonderland By Night (Heroic Rogues Series) Page 2