Treasure Her Heart

by Marin McGinnis

  ****

  Peter could see a small skiff ahead, nondescript with chipped and fading paint, like any number of boats that dotted the English coast. But it was the only other boat here, and there were five people in it. It had to be the smugglers.

  On it, someone swung an oar and knocked a man into the water. He slid underneath the waves and the boat moved away. Then there was obviously an argument. One of them was wearing a gown, but he couldn’t tell from this distance whether it was Judith. Whoever it was, she was gesticulating like a crazy woman, and then a man half undressed and jumped in the water. Peter couldn’t decide if he should row faster to get the woman away from them or turn around and get away from them himself.

  The boat held fast while the man was underwater, and Peter was able to get closer. The swimmer resurfaced, pulling with him the man who’d fallen in. The woman leaned over the side with the rest of the boat’s occupants and dragged the man in.

  What the hell was going on? If this was Judith, why was she helping these people? Especially since she was the one who’d smacked him with the oar in the first place?

  While they fussed over the fallen man, Peter drew closer still, and he was able to discern the color of the woman’s hair—auburn, like Judith—and her dress, which was an olive green. There were four men, which was what Peter remembered of the smugglers. It was her, it had to be, and even as he was grateful he’d found her, obviously unharmed, he was deeply confused. She obviously wasn’t tied up, and she certainly didn’t seem to be in need of rescue.

  Now that he was nearly upon them, he realized he had no idea what he was going to do next. He had his godmother’s pistol, but it was four against one.

  Judith resumed her seat and returned her oars to the water. Peter began to have doubts—he couldn’t imagine an earl’s daughter could row so well. He’d never met a lady who could do so; his sisters would never even contemplate such a thing.

  She was a strong rower, though. Her strokes were smooth and powerful, certainly stronger than the scrawny boy sitting in front of her. She reached up to brush something off her face, and Peter knew with certainty it was Judith. He had seen her make the same gesture a dozen times during their short acquaintance. His gut tightened as he imagined what she must have been through.

  They must be forcing her to help, perhaps as punishment because she’d hit the other man and knocked him into the water. Was she being held at gunpoint? He leaned forward, as if another foot would make a difference in whether he could see more clearly in the approaching dusk. He shook his head, rowed faster.

  But Judith was not only a better rower than her companion, her form was better than Peter’s own. Her boat pulled ahead, lengthening the distance between them. If he didn’t do something, he’d lose her.

  “Damn it.” He stood and yelled, “Judith! Stop!” His boat rocked dangerously, nearly toppling him overboard. He sat down hard, pain shooting up his spine from his tailbone to his still tender head. He grabbed his oars before they slid into the water and began to row again, faster this time. Pure need to catch her, to save her, fueled his every stroke, and he barely noticed the strain on his muscles.

  His arms ached and his lungs burned, but he drew steadily closer.

  “Judith!” he called again. This time he was rewarded with a hitch in her stroke. She turned in his direction. He could see her mouth move but could hear no words.

  Unfortunately, Judith wasn’t the only one who heard him call. The man who seemed to be in charge—Tunno, Peter remembered—pulled out his pistol and aimed it at Peter. A crack rent the air, and a shot plunged into the water ahead of the skiff.

  “No!” Judith’s voice carried across the water, and she lunged at Tunno. He smacked her as he would a fly, and she fell back.

  Peter had never in his life felt so helpless. His heartbeat thrummed violently in his ears as the woman he loved tipped headfirst over the side of the boat and slid soundlessly beneath the waves.

  Chapter 17

  Peter hesitated only a split second before removing his coat and boots and plunging into the water after her. It was cold, so cold it threatened to sap his energy, seep into his bones. But he barely felt it, so focused was he on finding Judith.

  He quickly closed the gap between them, and dove deeper near the spot where she’d fallen in. The fishing boat had pulled away, leaving Peter to guess at exactly where she might be. The salt in the water stung his eyes, but he couldn’t close them, or he’d be unable to see her. Time meant everything now. Lungs burning, his vision darted frantically through the blue-green water.

  He spotted her dark red hair first, swaying in the currents above her head as she sank, weighed down by her sodden gown and heavy boots. He reached her in two great bursts, grabbed her arm, and pulled her close. He shot like an arrow toward the surface.

  Above the waves, he sucked in great gulps of air. Judith was still, dead weight in his arms. She was pale, far too pale. He touched his lips to hers, tried to blow air into her lungs, but he needed to displace the water first. And to do that, he needed to get her back to his skiff. Shore was too far away.

  He scanned the surface to see how far the boat had drifted only to find it coming toward him with someone in it.

  The scrawny boy called out. “Give ’er to me, milord,” he said, leaning over the side, arms outstretched. Too tired to consider any other options, he lifted Judith in his aching arms and handed her to the boy. He was stronger than he looked and easily pulled her aboard.

  Peter used the last of his strength to haul himself into the skiff, landing in an undignified puddle in the bottom. The boy was tending to Judith, alternately pressing on her chest and breathing into her open mouth. Too out of breath to help, Peter could do no more than clasp her hand and pray, until finally, sea water cascaded out of her mouth and into Peter’s already sodden lap. Peter turned her onto her side, stroking her cheek until she finished coughing, each cough followed by a sharp intake of breath, until she lay spent in the bottom of the skiff.

  Peter pulled her into his lap, holding her close, comforted by the sound of her breathing smoothing out. Her eyelids fluttered and her bloodshot eyes focused on him. “Peter?”

  “Shh. Don’t talk, love. Just breathe. You’re safe.”

  She struggled to sit up, leaned against him. He draped an arm around her shoulders, pressed a kiss to her sodden head. She gazed around, trying to catch her bearings. She stopped when she spotted the boy manning the oars. Peter had been so focused on Judith he’d almost forgotten the boy was there.

  “Henry?” Judith said. “Where are we?”

  “You’re safe, miss. When you went over the side, I started to go after you, but then I saw this gentleman jump in. So I dove out of the boat and made my way to this here skiff. I thought you might need it.”

  “And you were correct, Henry. I am much obliged,” Peter said.

  “But where is your father? And the others?” Judith asked.

  “Gone. Soon as Pa struck you, I knew I couldn’t stay with him. I don’t care what happens to me, but I couldn’t let you die.”

  “Thank you, Henry,” Judith said, reaching out to grab the boy’s hand. “I will help you, I promise, to get you your bakery or café or whatever else you want.”

  “Oh, no, miss. I couldn’t let you do that.”

  “Don’t be silly. You helped to save my life. It’s the least I can do.” Judith shivered, and her teeth began to chatter. She leaned closer to Peter, but he was as wet as she, and no help at all.

  “Henry,” Peter said, pointing, “there’s a stack of blankets over there. Could you hand me some of them, please? And take one for yourself. You must be freezing.”

  Henry obliged, and the three of them sat shivering while Henry rowed them to shore.

  ****

  Henry took them back to the mouth of the cave where the entire adventure began. Peter handed Judith out, then he and Henry hauled the skiff onto the beach, away from the waves. Every part of Judith’s body hurt. It t
ook all her remaining strength just to stay upright. Even through her chemise, her corset chafed against her wet skin, and her sodden skirts were so heavy she could barely walk. Her hair hung in soggy strands against her face, but she resisted the urge to push it away. Her hands were so numb with cold she’d probably poke herself in the eye.

  Peter came up beside her and draped an arm about her shoulders just as Lady Howley emerged from the cave, Judith’s mother hurrying close behind. Judith leaned against Peter, not a little afraid of what her mother might say.

  “Judith! Oh, thank God you’re safe.” Lady Grangemore launched herself at Judith, pulling her into a tight embrace. “I’ve been so worried,” she whispered. “I couldn’t bear it if I’d lost you.”

  The sentiment was too much for Judith. She collapsed against her mother, and the tears flowed freely, soaking the back of her mother’s gown. Once the shock wore off, she suspected her mother would not thank her for it, but for now, Judith relished the feelings of love and comfort flowing between them.

  It did not, unfortunately, last long. Lady Grangemore pulled away and sniffed, dabbing at her eyes with the handkerchief she always kept stashed in her sleeve. She took a deep breath, then studied her daughter.

  “You’re such a fright, darling. At least you were wearing your oldest gown.”

  Peter pulled Judith tightly against him and dried her eyes with his own handkerchief. He turned to face Judith’s mother.

  “Lady Grangemore, Judith has had a very difficult few days. She needs dry clothing and rest.” Peter threw a pointed look at his godmother, and Lady Howley led Judith’s sputtering mother away.

  “Thank you,” Judith said as she watched her mother and Lady Howley disappear into the cave.

  “For what?”

  “All of it. For coming after me, for saving me, for sending my mother away. I was surprised at the hug, but I knew it wouldn’t last, and I was right.” She pulled her blanket more tightly around her shoulders.

  “You’re welcome,” Peter said, tipping her chin toward him. He pulled her close and kissed her. His lips were soft, warm against her cold ones. She leaned in, disappointed when he finally pulled away. “I wasn’t about to lose you to the watery depths, not when I could do something about it.”

  “You nearly killed yourself in the process.” She shuddered to think of it. “If it hadn’t been for Henry…” Her gaze flitted across the beach. “Where is Henry?”

  “He ducked into the cave to wait until everyone was gone.”

  “We have to do something for him, Peter,” Judith said, her tone insistent. “He only helped the smugglers because his father made him. He helped me. He gave me food, loosened my bonds. He was so kind and never once did anything to harm me. And he saved your life.”

  “Did I ever say I wouldn’t help him? He saved you when I couldn’t. For that I owe him everything.” He pulled her close again, held her tight, resting his chin upon her head. Judith inhaled the salty sea scent of him, drew strength from his body.

  “I do love you, Judith. I won’t let anything, even my father, stand in the way of our being together.”

  “Not even your engagement to another?”

  “No, not even that.”

  “You’ll ruin her if you beg off.”

  “You’ll be ruined if I don’t.” He traced her jawline with his finger, cupped her cheek with his palm.

  “You’re following in your father’s footsteps.” She pulled back, immediately regretting the absence of his touch.

  Peter shook his head emphatically. “I am not. He threw away the woman he loved for duty. I’m doing exactly the opposite. I don’t care if he disinherits me, gives the earldom back to the Crown. All that matters is you.” He placed his hands on her shoulders, kissed her again to emphasize the veracity of his words. It was hard for her to deny he loved her, impossible to pretend she didn’t love him.

  A throat cleared behind her, and she broke away from Peter. Lady Howley stood there, an amused, and if Judith was not mistaken, pleased expression on her face. She must have led Judith’s mother back to the house then raced back.

  “I trust your ordeal has left no lasting ill effects, Miss Leslie?”

  Judith flushed. “No, my lady, although my head hurts and my lungs still burn a bit from nearly drowning. I am mostly tired of being wet. I think my garments are glued to my skin.”

  “Let’s get you into the house. But first, perhaps we should see how poor Henry is faring.”

  Lady Howley was halfway to the cave before Judith realized what she’d said, and what it meant. “Wait. Lady Howley, how do you know he’s there? Or that his name is Henry?”

  Lady Howley turned and waited while Judith caught up to her. “I hired him, my dear. Or his father, to be more precise.” She held Judith’s hands in her own. “I am terribly sorry for what they did to you. Had I known they were on the beach when I showed you the caves, I would never have taken you down there.”

  Judith’s mouth fell open. “You? You hired the smugglers?”

  Lady Howley resumed her walk toward the cave, pulling Judith along with her. “I’m afraid I had little choice. Lord Howley left me with nothing but debts and this house; he had a gambling problem, you see.” Judith was astonished at the matter-of-fact tone. She might have been inviting them in for tea. “It was either turn to smuggling or end up in the workhouse,” Lady Howley continued. “On the whole, I prefer this life.” She waved her hand, encompassing the beach, the caves, and presumably her sprawling house on the cliffs above them.

  “Henry? Are you in here?” Lady Howley called out once they’d arrived in the cave. A figure emerged from the gloom within.

  “Lady Howley,” Henry said, offering a shallow bow. He nodded to Judith and to Peter, who’d remained at Judith’s other side and now took her hand. His fingers were rough and warm.

  “I assume you’ve left your father?”

  “I have,” Henry said, nodding. “He’s a cruel man, milady. I’m tired of living under his thumb.”

  Lady Howley cocked her head and studied him for a moment. “You’ve no wish to turn him in, I trust?”

  “Of course not. I’d only be punishing myself, and you.”

  “What are you going to do now?”

  Judith answered for him. “I will make sure he’s set up in his preferred trade. Wherever he’d like to go.”

  “You’re too kind, Miss Judith,” Henry said, blushing again to the roots of his hair.

  “You saved my life, Henry. It’s the least I can do.” Judith grinned at him. “But perhaps, Lady Howley, we could all retire to the house? I fear if I don’t, I will smell of fish the rest of my life.”

  ****

  After a bubbly bath that left her warm, deliciously fragrant, and rather sleepy, Judith ate a large supper alone in her room. Her mother had been given a sedative and sent to bed. Now she was safe and sound, Judith finally had time to think about the events of the past few days, and more specifically, all that had happened with Peter.

  He was quite right—if they didn’t marry, she would be ruined. She’d been alone with him for far longer than could ever be considered proper. She’d been kidnapped and held prisoner, alone with four men. She’d been half-drowned and rescued dripping wet by Peter and Henry.

  She’d been kissed repeatedly by Peter on the beach. And elsewhere.

  She sipped her claret and leaned back in her chair by the fire. Her toes were warm and her belly pleasantly full, but her heart was uneasy. If he didn’t marry her, she was in terrible trouble. Not only would she be ostracized by society, she’d be miserable, for she couldn’t conceive of a life without him. And Lady Cassandra, when she heard, would be more likely to dig in her heels and insist Peter go through with their wedding, just to spite Judith.

  A rap at the window startled her from her musings. She set down her wine goblet and went to investigate. Peter stood on the ground beneath, his arm drawn back to throw another pebble. She unfastened the catch and raised the window, stuc
k her head out.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Getting your attention, obviously.”

  Judith settled her bottom on the sill. “You can’t knock on the door like a normal person?”

  “Well, no, then someone will have heard me.”

  “And you don’t think anyone will notice if you break the glass with rocks? My mother’s room is right next to mine, Peter.”

  “Which is precisely why I am out here, so I can run away if necessary.”

  Judith chuckled. “What do you want?”

  “You, of course. I just wanted to see you one more time before you retire.”

  Judith felt warm all over. Was this what it was like to be loved?

  “You are particularly lovely in your dressing gown,” he said, a predatory glint in his eye.

  With that statement, Judith realized it was highly improper he should be seeing her in her dressing gown. She removed herself from her perch and stuck her head out the window. “Goodnight, Peter. I will see you tomorrow.”

  “Do you love me?” he asked.

  “Yes. Now go away before someone sees you.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Of what?”

  “That you love me. For I love you. More than anything.”

  Her smile took over her face, from lips to cheeks to eyes; she imagined she was glowing. “Yes, Peter. I’m very sure.”

  “Good,” he said. He blew her a kiss, then whistling a jaunty tune, disappeared into the garden. His tune carried on the wind, magical to her ears.

  Chapter 18

  The next morning brought harsh reality. Lady Grangemore entered Judith’s room without knocking, waking her from a sound sleep populated by dreams of a swarthy pirate with an uncanny resemblance to Peter Tenwick rescuing her at sea. She fully expected to find herself in his arms, and it was a rude awakening indeed to find herself alone in bed with her mother’s half concerned, half angry visage hovering over her.