by Brenda Novak
“Perhaps she was hungry.” Trenton’s words sounded hollow, as though even he didn’t believe them, and Nathaniel strove to keep his face a mask. He was hesitant to show the emotion coursing through his body, to reveal his fear of the truth. Even if Alexandra had left him, there was no need to let his friend know how much she meant to him. He couldn’t have her regardless. His father had taken her away from him just as effectively as he had taken Martha. Succumbing to his selfish desires to keep her with him would risk her life. He had no right to do that. And while he was finally willing to give up the personal battle he had waged against his father if it meant a life with Alexandra, the duke’s traitorous actions made even that impossible. The welfare of England was more important than the desires of one man—the lives of thousands of English troops worth more than his own. But what would happen to her?
Nathaniel remembered Gunther and his filthy brothel, and felt sick. Alexandra was so beautiful, so innocent. He loved her as he had never loved another woman, and he wanted more than her body; he knew that now. He had refused the temptation of taking her, though she had slept next to him for almost a week. Why? It certainly wasn’t a lack of desire. The mere brush of her hand on his arm was enough to excite him. The truth was that he cared more about her welfare: her heart and her mind.
Could he live without her? Did he want to?
Duty. Nathaniel measured the word in his mind. He had served in his country’s navy. He had fought in her wars. He had a duty to England and to his fellow countrymen. But if life had ever offered him a crumb of happiness, it was Alexandra.
Suddenly Nathaniel spun on his heel and left the room, leaving Trenton gaping after him. He had to find her. He had to find Alexandra now before he lost her forever.
* * *
Alexandra walked quickly, ignoring the men who stopped to gape at her. She didn’t care for their whistles or murmurs of approval. She knew only that her heart was breaking.
Biting her trembling lip, she forced back the tears despite the painful lump that had lodged itself, permanently it seemed, in her throat.
I won’t cry… I won’t cry… at least, not now.
She had thought of leaving Nathaniel a note, but in the end, had left without doing so. She hadn’t been able to think of anything to say. That he was the most incredible man she had ever known was certain, but she doubted the pirate captain would take such a statement seriously. That she loved him was undeniable. Again, a truth that couldn’t change anything. Besides, he already knew. She could tell by the way he looked at her, as though he would take her inside himself and hold her there and protect her forever, if he could.
Tears streamed down Alexandra’s face despite her best efforts to avoid them. I won’t cry, she sobbed. I won’t cry.
“Mum, why’s that lady cryin’?” she heard a young boy ask.
“Perhaps she’s lost something important,” his mother said.
Alexandra wiped at her wet cheeks. She had lost something important—the most important thing in her life.
She didn’t hear the horse approach her from behind. She was too immersed in her own pain. She stared at the ground in front of her as she walked, until she heard a voice that stopped her cold.
“I know I promised to let you go when we reached London, but I’m not quite through with you yet.”
Alexandra’s heart leaped. She stopped and turned to see Nathaniel bearing down on her on a large bay gelding, wearing a wry grin.
She tried to keep the joy she felt at seeing him from her face, but allowed herself a shy smile.
“You shouldn’t be on a horse, not with your injury.”
His expression grew intent. “It’s my heart that won’t mend. Not if you leave me.”
Alexandra swallowed hard. “But what about—”
“Marry me, Alexandra. Marry me and come away with me to the States. We’ll be safe in Virginia. It’s beautiful country. I visited there three years ago. We could buy a tract of land, have a house full of children….”
“You’d become a farmer?” she scoffed playfully.
“No. Trenton would captain the Royal Vengeance for me, and together we’d build a shipping enterprise to rival my father’s.”
Alexandra’s heart took flight as she listened. Marry him, he said. Marry him! To have and to hold… till death do us part. She’d live in a hovel if it meant she could have Nathaniel.
“Could you ever leave England?” he asked hesitantly.
“Much easier than I could leave you,” she admitted, and he swung down to hold her close.
“I love you,” she whispered as the band of his arm closed around her.
“Aye. And we’ll survive, my love. I just have to turn the guns over to the authorities. Then it’s up to them to get to the truth of it. We’ll sail to Virginia as soon as we can.”
Alexandra’s heart reached for the hope he offered her, but she knew turning the guns over to the authorities would not be so easy. Nathaniel could be caught and imprisoned. He could be hanged or shot. Or his father could always surprise them with something else entirely.
She winced. “I’m going with you. I can’t bear the thought of you there without me, knowing that you might never come back.”
“No, you must stay here—” Alexandra silenced him with a kiss. “I go where you go, now and forever,” she vowed.
“Now and forever,” he murmured, and the kiss he gave her sealed his promise.
Chapter 21
They traveled to Bristol by train. Alexandra had never taken the train before. She was enthralled with the scenery that flew past her window and the crowds of people who waited on the platform of each new station along the way.
An older woman and her young daughter shared their car, and Alexandra couldn’t help but take exception to the way the daughter’s eyes darted back to Nathaniel every few moments. The mother, a Mrs. Haws, glanced sharply at the girl each time she giggled in response to something Nathaniel said, but the daughter seemed oblivious to her mother’s censure.
If Nathaniel noticed Bessie Haws’s interest, he did not give himself away as he talked to Trenton about the Clifton Suspension Bridge currently being built across the Severn.
“Oh, we’ve seen it, haven’t we, Mother?” the girl interrupted, blushing to the roots of her hair when Nathaniel looked up.
He smiled politely. “It’ll take a while to finish yet.”
“Bessie, perhaps you should rest,” her mother suggested, tapping her daughter on the knee with her fan. “You’re looking a bit peaked.”
Flushed would be a better word, Alexandra thought irritably.
Bessie opened her mouth to refute this charge when the train stopped in Farringdon and several new passengers boarded. A man near Nathaniel’s age joined them in the compartment.
“The train’s nearly full.” He showed white teeth beneath a brown mustache as he smiled. “I hope you don’t mind me joining you.”
“Not at all.” Nathaniel and Trenton moved their legs to make more room as the man took a seat on the other side of Bessie Haws.
“I’m Thomas Madsen,” he said, nodding as they each introduced themselves in turn. Alexandra thought him rather handsome with his brown eyes, brown hair, long sideburns, and mustache. Smile lines around his eyes indicated he laughed often, and he had an air about him that was pleasantly appealing.
He struck up a conversation with Alexandra while Nathaniel responded to a question put to him by Bessie about the hot springs at Bath.
“Do you live in Bristol?”
“No, I was born in London, but we moved to Manchester when I was so small that I don’t remember it.”
“I see.”
“And you? Are you returning from holiday, by chance?”
Madsen shook his head. “No. My work brings me to Bristol. I’m an inspector with Scotland Yard.”
“But you got on at Farringdon.”
He smiled sheepishly. “The motion of the train makes me sick. I had to get off the last one.�
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“I’m sorry. I hope you’re feeling better.”
“I’m fine as long as I keep myself well enough occupied and don’t make the mistake of trying to read.”
“Ah,” Alexandra nodded knowingly, but never having suffered from motion sickness herself, she didn’t truly understand. “Do you enjoy your work?” She caught a subtle glance from Nathaniel and noted a wry smile on Trenton’s face. Bessie continued to ply them both with questions, but it was Trenton who elaborated. Nathaniel was too busy keeping her and Mr. Madsen under close regard.
“Sometimes. Other times I find it can get quite drab, usually when I’m filling out the reports.” Madsen laughed. “Are you and your husband on holiday?”
“No.” Alexandra shook her head, taking the opportunity to avenge herself for Bessie’s fawning interest by adding, “We’re not married.”
“Yet,” Nathaniel inserted, staring pointedly at Mr. Madsen. “We’re on our way.”
“To be married?” This time Bessie spoke, and the disappointment that rang in her voice brought Mrs. Haws’s brows into thundercloud position.
“‘Tis none of your business, my dear.”
Evidently, Bessie heard the steel edge in her mother’s voice, because her gaze dropped to her lap. “I was simply asking,” she mumbled.
Mr. Madsen smiled genially. “You are very lucky to have found such a lovely bride,” he told Nathaniel. Turning back to Alexandra, he continued, “There is no better place than Bristol in which to be married. I was born there and sorely miss it. I wish you both all the happiness in the world.”
“Thank you.” Alexandra felt Nathaniel take her hand in his own and smiled sweetly at Bessie Haws.
* * *
They arrived in Bristol in a little more than two hours. Alexandra, Nathaniel, and Trenton bid good-bye to the now silent Bessie and her mother, and waved to Mr. Madsen.
With Nathaniel’s help, Alexandra descended from the platform while Trenton rented a cab. They had no bags, and were therefore able to move quickly. They wove through the throng, loaded up, and started down the paved road ahead of the other passengers.
Bristol was more crowded than when Alexandra had seen it last. As July approached and the heat of London became unbearable, many of the capital’s citizens fled to Bath or Bristol for a reprieve. Alexandra watched the assorted carriages, carts, and wagons that clogged the street as they moved, snail-like, through the melee.
“I wrote back to the Lord High Admiral and told him I am bringing the guns to London,” Trenton told Nathaniel. “He’s expecting me Monday week. I think it best if I handle it, just in case they believe the duke and the magistrate who sentenced you to the hulks and send you back—or hang you.”
Nathaniel frowned. “What about your own neck?”
“I haven’t gained sufficient notoriety to be too concerned. Even if they charge me with piracy, it’s unlikely they’ll hang me.”
Nathaniel considered his words. “Newgate is not a pleasant fate.”
“So you are the only patriot among us?”
Nathaniel shook his head. “Evidently not.”
“Besides, the guns will take center stage.”
“I think you’re right there.” Nathaniel’s voice was decidedly neutral, but Alexandra knew he worried still the same, and she couldn’t help saying a silent prayer for them all.
* * *
It was raining by the time they reached the docks, large drops that splattered when they hit the ground. Nathaniel peered out of the carriage at the darkening sky and cursed the weather. They’d be soaked to the skin by the time they finished unloading the entire warehouse, even if they hired help.
“Perhaps you should wait in the carriage, my love,” he said to Alexandra as he descended. “You can watch us from here.”
She nodded and kissed him briefly. Nathaniel would have lingered in her embrace, but now that they’d arrived, he felt the need to deal with the guns and be done with them.
“It might be a while,” he called, “but we’ll hurry.”
Alexandra’s drooping ringlets gave a slight bob as she nodded her head, and he envisioned having a daughter with the same yellow hair. His fiancée was beautiful, he thought, the only one who could make him whole. Strangely enough, he felt whole already, for the first time since he could remember.
Turning away, he rounded the warehouse and made his way to the alley behind. He easily found the rock beneath which he had buried the key, and dug it up.
“Would you have been able to find it if need be?” he asked Trenton.
His friend nodded. “Aye. The directions you gave were good ones. Shall I hire a wagon?”
“In a moment.”
They headed back to the front entrance together amid the crush of people along the wharves. Nathaniel glanced about, hoping to hail a few burly chaps to help, and thought he saw a face he recognized. When he looked again the man had gone, but something about him stirred a memory.
He was likely one of the blokes he’d hired to help him the last time, Nathaniel thought. Turning the key in the lock, he pressed in on the door.
It groaned on its hinges, then swung wide.
Nathaniel stood staring, his jaw agape. The warehouse was empty.
“They’ve found them.” He turned back to push Trenton away. “Let’s get out of here.”
The two of them began to sprint to the carriage when the familiar-looking man appeared again, a sturdy bloke with bulging biceps. He grabbed Nathaniel by the arm and began to haul him back, as four others separated themselves from the crowd and stripped him of his pistol. They shoved him and Trenton back inside the empty warehouse, and Lord Clifton moved into the light that streamed in through the high windows, one of which was open.
Sailors called to each other outside as his half brother’s voice echoed within. “Looking for something?” the marquess asked.
“Clifton, this won’t do you any good,” Nathaniel said. “The Lord High Admiral already knows about the guns.”
The marquess shrugged. “No one will believe my father guilty of treason. But the guns are quite valuable. I must say, I’m relieved to have them back.”
The door opened and a gush of fresh air swept into the room as Captain Montague entered with a struggling Alexandra.
“Alexandra, how wonderful to see you.” Lord Clifton bowed in mock courtesy. “I feared our paths would never cross again, but fate has been kinder to me than I deserve.”
Nathaniel’s heart began to race. He glanced beyond the marquess, trying to sense any movement in the shadows. How many men accompanied his half brother?
As if six, including Clifton, weren’t enough.
“You’re right. The only thing you deserve is to swing at the end of a rope,” Alexandra said breathlessly.
The marquess chuckled and glanced above them, where a large metal hook was attached to a pulley system designed to help move cargo around. “Funny you should mention a rope.” He gave Nathaniel a meaningful smile, motioning with his head to one of his men. “Charles, I do believe it would be wise to be quick about this.”
The man named Charles stepped forward and pulled the hook closer while two others grabbed Nathaniel by his clothes.
“And now we see that my prophecy comes true,” Montague said, giving Nathaniel a mocking salute. “You will test the rope long before me, no?”
“Then I’ll see you in hell,” Nathaniel told him.
Lord Clifton smiled at the exchange. “I saved a few rifles for you.” He indicated one of the familiar long, flat crates. “They can provide the stool—a bit of irony I could not resist.”
The marquess’s men dragged the box forward as Nathaniel’s mind flailed for something, anything with which to gain an advantage. He could think of nothing until a thought surfaced—a memory, really—of Alexandra telling him that his father had syphilis and had given the disease to Clifton’s mother. Did his half brother know? If not, would it upset him enough to buy some desperately needed time?
> “It’s a miracle you were ever born, you know,” Nathaniel said, staring defiantly at Clifton as another man started to force him onto the box of rifles. “Syphilis is no small thing. With your father carrying it home from his whores, I wonder that your mother didn’t leave him sooner.”
His words acted on Lord Clifton like a douse of cold water. The marquess blinked in surprise, and the men who held Nathaniel paused uncertainly. Clifton’s brows drew close, and he bared his teeth. “I’ll not tolerate such rubbish from the likes of you. My mother might be sick, but she’s not gone mad. Her illness has nothing to do with syphilis. And my father has been well for over a year.”
“So you didn’t know.” Nathaniel shrugged, feigning a haughtiness he did not feel. “Evidently it hasn’t made itself apparent enough in either parent yet. But it will. It always does.”
The marquess’s men glanced at one another, and Nathaniel felt the hands that held him lose a bit of their tension.
At his full height Clifton was several inches shorter than Nathaniel. He had to tilt his head back to stare him in the eye, but he did so as he advanced, coming within inches. Nathaniel saw how the marquess’s nostrils flared with rage and knew he had hit his target. His half brother had been caught completely unaware.
“That’s a lie!”
“Certainly even you can see it’s the truth, now that you know.” Nathaniel watched Clifton’s hand ball into a fist, and prepared himself for the blow. The others stood still, out of surprise or perverse interest, Nathaniel didn’t know. “Evidently, he cared little about whose thighs he parted before sharing your mother’s bed—”
The marquess’s fist slammed into his stomach and Nathaniel doubled over. For the tiniest moment the men’s grip on him slackened. Using that moment to twist violently away, he wrenched himself out of their hold.
Nathaniel wasn’t as strong as he used to be. He was still recovering from his knife wound, but he preferred to take his chances against a pistol than to swing from a rope.
Two of Clifton’s men scrambled to catch him, but with a blow to the chin and a quick kick to the groin, he sent them flailing onto their backs. He lunged for the marquess while Trenton used the sudden distraction to wrest free as well. But they both froze when the man who held Alexandra put a gun to her head.