“In here,” the young man, who was still leading them, called from the entrance to an alley several yards ahead.
Thaddeus tightened his grip on Imogen’s hand and darted after the boy. He instantly worried he’d made the wrong decision when the narrow alley proved to be pitch black. At least they could move faster.
“I don’t like this,” Imogen said in a wary voice. She tugged against him slightly in resistance, as if attempting to go slower so she could feel her way.
“It’s all right,” the lad called. “I know this way. You won’t trip over nothin’.”
Thaddeus doubted the truth of that as his boot hit something foul and squishy, but he headed on, sweeping Imogen along with him. “I can see a light at the end,” he told her.
That sped Imogen up a bit. That and her father’s shout from the far end of the alley.
“Stop at once,” Lord Marlowe called. “It’s useless to keep going. We have agents working with us to catch you.”
“I will wed and bed you yet, you bitch,” Lord Cunningham added.
“No,” Imogen shouted, pressing ahead and even outpacing Thaddeus for a moment. “You will not.”
They burst out the other end of the alley. Thaddeus nearly sang in triumph when they found themselves right along the water’s edge. The path they raced along to get to the pier was narrow and slippery as the tide lapped against the boards underneath, but anything that had the potential to slow them down or trip them up might also keep Lord Cunningham and Lord Marlowe at bay.
“The Lucky Devil is at the end of this pier,” the young man shouted, scrambling on. His face glowed and he looked as though he was having far too much fun, but at least he was taking them where they needed to go.
The way would have been easier if not for a load of crates and barrels that practically formed mountains clogging the pier. Thaddeus was prepared to follow the lad’s lead and leap over the first of them, clutching Imogen’s sack tightly, before realizing that Imogen would never be able to manage that sort of feat.
“Here,” he said, grasping her around the waist with the sack in one hand and hoisting her over a particularly large barrel. Once she was safe on the other side, he lunged over, and they continued on.
Seconds later, Lord Cunningham and Lord Marlowe reached the barrels.
“We’ve got you now,” Lord Marlowe laughed. “My daughter is a weakling who can barely navigate the stairs, let alone this mess.”
“I’m stronger than you think, Father,” she growled, hiking her skirts and climbing over a small stack of crates.
Thaddeus had never been prouder of her, but they weren’t free yet. Lord Marlowe growled like a rabid dog and leapt over every impediment that stood in his way. Lord Cunningham was slower, but it only took one of them to cause a major problem.
“There she is,” the boy shouted from the clearing at the end of the unloaded cargo. “The Lucky Devil.”
Thaddeus had never been so happy to see a ship in his life. He helped Imogen down from the last barrel and grasped her hand, dashing as fast as they were able toward the tall, proud ship. It looked like the sort of vessel that would sail around the world. It could take them to Scotland, but it might also carry them as far away as they needed to go to get away from Lord Marlowe and Lord Cunningham.
The trouble was that the gangplank leading up to the deck was guarded by half a dozen burly men, and they did not look the least bit inclined to let Thaddeus and Imogen dash aboard. Thaddeus could only pray that Rupert had paid their passage in full and given the men their names and descriptions.
Whatever the case, Thaddeus and Imogen were forced to skitter to a halt at the bottom of the gangplank. Imogen was panting and sweating, and though Thaddeus felt she had never looked more beautiful, he was desperate to get her onto the ship and away from her father.
“What do we have here?” the biggest of the men guarding the gangplank said with a salty grin. He had a Cornish accent, which only added to the eerie feeling that they were putting their lives in the hands of pirates.
“I’m Lord Thaddeus Herrington, and this is Lady Imogen, soon to be my wife,” Thaddeus said, unable to fully catch his breath. “My brother, Lord Rupert Herrington, booked passage for us on this ship.”
“Is that so?” the Cornishman said, glancing over his shoulder to his mates. They all chuckled, as though watching a drama on the stage instead of a desperate, real-life escape.
“Lord Herrington is to blame for this?” Lord Marlowe bellowed as he and Lord Cunningham raced up to the gangplank as well. “I’ll have his hide.”
“And I’ll have this one’s hide.” Lord Cunningham reached for Imogen, his teeth bared in a snarl.
Thaddeus tugged Imogen out of his way, but he wasn’t the only one who acted. All six of the ship guards rushed forward, crowding around Lord Cunningham and holding him back so fast that the blackguard’s face went pale and he looked as though he were about to piss himself.
“We don’t take well to assaulting women,” the Cornishman said. “Not well at all.”
Two of his mates drew long daggers from their belts. They looked as though they might flay Lord Cunningham alive. Lord Cunningham whimpered and cowered. Thaddeus would have enjoyed the sight, but he and Imogen were far from out of the woods.
“Please,” he said, appealing to the Cornishman. “We need to board this ship as soon as possible.”
“Do not let them board,” Lord Marlowe countered. “This woman is my daughter. She is engaged to this man.” He gestured to Lord Cunningham. “She is attempting to break her solemn vow and elope with this coward.”
“I will not deny it,” Imogen said, clinging to Thaddeus’s arm. “I love him and I despise Lord Cunningham.”
“I don’t care whether you despise him or not, you will marry him,” Lord Marlowe shouted.
“What seems to be the trouble here?”
The confrontation was interrupted as everyone glanced to the top of the gangplank. There stood a tall man with curling black hair, dressed in a coat as fine as any duke would have worn…twenty years prior. He had a rakish air to him and swaggered as he walked down the gangplank and into the fray.
His eyes went straight to Imogen and brightened. “Well, there’s a siren if I ever saw one,” he said in a husky voice.
Thaddeus bristled at the way he ogled Imogen’s breasts, but he knew that both of their lives depended on the man. There was no doubt that he was Captain Devereux.
“This miscreant is attempting to run off with my fiancée,” Lord Cunningham bellowed, jerking away from the sailors, who had backed off slightly at the appearance of their captain.
“And she is my daughter,” Lord Marlowe added. “I will not allow her to run away.”
Captain Devereux turned to Thaddeus, lifting his eyebrows slightly.
“She is the woman I love, sir,” he said, slipping his arm around Imogen’s waist and holding her closer. “I would die to get her away from these villains.” He glared at Lord Marlowe and Lord Cunningham.
Captain Devereux glanced to each of them in turn, chuckling lightly. His grin widened. “Isn’t this a fine situation,” he said, then surprised Thaddeus by thumping him on the back. “Well done, sir. Your brother was right about your moxy.”
Thaddeus nearly groaned in relief at the statement. So Rupert did know the man after all. Surely, he would help to sort out the entire situation and banish Lord Marlowe and Lord Cunningham, once and for all.
But Captain Devereux said, “We can’t have young daughters and fiancées running off without so much as a by your leave.” He shook his head at Imogen, the playful light still in his eyes. “That wouldn’t be proper, my lady.”
“But…but I love Thaddeus,” Imogen pleaded with him. “And you cannot imagine the horrible things Lord Cunningham plans to do to me if I marry him.”
Captain Devereux laughed. “Believe me, love, I can.”
Imogen shrunk back, trembling slightly as she pressed herself against Thaddeus.
/> “I was given to understand you would help us, sir,” Thaddeus said. “Not make the situation worse.”
Captain Devereux shrugged. “And I will help you. I’ll help you the way one man should help another.” He paused, as if waiting for the chorus in a play to make a comment on the situation. When no one spoke, he went on with, “I’ll give you and Lord What’s His Name here—” he gestured to Lord Cunningham, “—a chance to solve this whole dispute as men should.”
Lord Cunningham broke into a wicked smile. “Good. Swords it is, then.”
“And don’t wait for dawn,” Lord Marlowe added. “I want this settled right here and now. Clear a space.”
His order went completely unheeded by the delighted sailors watching the scene.
Captain Devereux laughed. “I don’t mean that you should fight it out with swords,” he said, snorting dismissively at Lord Cunningham.
“Pistols, then,” Lord Cunningham said, standing straighter and sniffing.
“I don’t have pistols or swords,” Thaddeus said, more anxious than he wanted to admit. He’d been trained a bit with both, but by the look on Lord Cunningham’s sour face, he was outmatched either way.
“I don’t mean for you to duel at all,” Captain Devereux said.
“Then what is your meaning, sir?” Lord Marlowe snapped.
Captain Devereux looked as though he was enjoying the situation far too much. “I mean cards, of course,” he said, bursting into a grin.
“Cards!” His men burst into shouts and cheers of approval.
“And it just so happens that I have everything set up on deck for a quick round of cards before we set sail,” Captain Devereux finished.
“This is preposterous,” Lord Cunningham barked. “Give me my fiancée at once.”
“No!” Thaddeus and Imogen shouted at once. Thaddeus pulled Imogen toward the gangplank, convinced he could make a break for it. But once they made it aboard the ship, there was no guarantee Captain Devereux would let them stay there.
“Suit yourself,” Captain Devereux said, turning and heading back to his ship.
“Wait,” Thaddeus called after him. “I’ll play cards. I’ll play for the right to keep Imogen by my side. Whatever game you’d like.”
“That’s the spirit.” Captain Devereux marched back to give him another slap on the back. “And you?” he asked Lord Cunningham and Lord Marlowe.
The two blackguards exchanged sullen looks. They didn’t seem too keen on each other, let alone cards. If everything went wrong, Thaddeus was convinced he could use that to his advantage.
“All right,” Lord Marlowe grumbled at last. “I’ll agree to play cards for my daughter.” He glanced to Lord Cunningham in question.
“I don’t see that I have any choice,” Lord Cunningham answered. “At least there will be two of us playing for the chit instead of one.”
“Marvelous,” Captain Devereux said, clapping his hands, then gesturing for everyone to follow him up the gangplank. “And if I win her, I’ll show her what she’s missing with the lot of you.”
“If you win her?” Thaddeus asked, a few steps behind the man.
“Yes, of course,” Captain Devereux said with a wink. “Consider it fare for passage. If I win.”
“I’m not sure I like this idea,” Imogen whispered as they made it to the ship’s deck at last.
“I hate it,” Thaddeus grumbled in reply. “But at the moment, we don’t have any other choice.”
Chapter 10
Imogen had never been aboard a ship in her life. She might have found the whole experience fascinating and rushed to explore the various decks, peer over the side into the dark water of the Thames, or even attempt to climb the rigging. But with her freedom at stake, all she wanted to do was stick as close to Thaddeus’s side as possible.
“You weren’t lying when you said you were already set up for a game,” Lord Cunningham observed once he and Imogen’s father were aboard. “Is this some sort of trick?”
“No, no, not at all,” Captain Devereux laughed, slapping him hard on the back as he stepped over the railing onto the main deck. “As I said, we were playing before you got here.”
That much seemed true enough. The round table in the center of the main deck was already scattered with cards and various coins. A few men who appeared to be officers of some sort got up from the table, taking sloppy mugs of beer with them. Night had fallen almost completely, but so many lanterns had been hung from the rigging and placed around the deck that it could have been a busy market in the middle of the afternoon. The whole thing had a vaguely magical quality to it.
“Come, gentlemen, come.” Captain Devereux strode over to the table, gathering up the cards and taking a seat himself. “Let’s get started. Time and tide wait for no man, particularly when there is a pretty girl involved.”
Imogen moved with Thaddeus when he approached the table, doing her best to keep her distance from her father and Lord Cunningham. Neither of those two seemed excited about the game. Her father’s face was pinched in pure annoyance.
“What right have you to play for my daughter?” her father asked, jerking back one of the chairs to take a seat. “You have no stake in this dispute.”
“I have a stake in every dispute on my ship,” Captain Devereux said, shuffling the cards. He twisted to call over his shoulder, “Mergen! Come be dealer, since I’m playing.”
“Yes, captain,” a short man with a large moustache and a genial smile darted forward, taking a seat at the table.
Thaddeus gave Imogen’s hand a squeeze, his expression deadly serious, and handed her sack over before sitting at the chair beside the captain. Lord Cunningham grudgingly sat beside Imogen’s father, muttering something to him that she couldn’t make out.
What surprised Imogen, and everyone else, was that the young lad from the inn who had led them to the Lucky Devil slipped into the final open chair at the table.
“What is the meaning of this?” Lord Cunningham growled, attempting to stare down the young man and perhaps frighten him off.
His efforts had the opposite effect. The young man grinned back at him and declared, “I want to play too. I’m good at cards, I am. And I’ve been saving for just such an occasion.”
He drew a small sack of coins from his waistcoat and upended it on the table. A meager amount of coins spilled into a pile. It wasn’t much by the standards Imogen was used to, but she imagined it was quite a bit for a servant employed in a dockside inn.
“This is ridiculous,” Imogen’s father sniffed.
Captain Devereux obviously thought otherwise. “Good for you, lad,” he laughed, punching him playfully in the arm. “What’s your name, son?”
“Daniel,” the young man said. “Daniel Long.”
“Well then, Daniel Long, welcome to our game.”
“But we’re playing for possession of my daughter,” Imogen’s father growled. “What right does this boy have to her?”
“We’re playing for money as well, aren’t we?” Captain Devereux said, staring around the table at each player and daring them to contradict him. “Last man out wins the fair Lady Imogen’s hand.”
“I don’t think that’s fair,” her father started.
Lord Cunningham stopped his complaint by gripping his arm. “How much money do you think that whelp has on him?” he said in a menacing voice. “Not as much as you or I, that much is certain.”
Imogen’s heart sank. He was right. Thaddeus didn’t have much to his name, seeing as he was the younger son of an earl who was barely up to the mark.
He surprised them all by drawing a fairly large purse of coins from his jacket. “I still have the money Saif Khan gave me,” he told Imogen, placing the purse on the table.
“But that’s for our future,” she whispered, dreading what would happen if he lost it and her. She hugged her sack of belongings, comforted somewhat by the hard edges of The Secrets of Love inside.
Her father and Lord Cunningham had produced their
ready money, as did the captain, and the men set about arranging their coins in stacks and piles, anything that might make it appear as though they had more than was there.
“Vingt-et-un, I think,” Captain Devereux said, nodding to Mr. Mergen, who sat, poised and ready to deal cards. “We’ll keep it simple so we can get things over quickly.”
“Agreed,” Thaddeus said. He glanced over his shoulder to Imogen—who rather felt as though the boat were wobbling on the high seas already, seeing as so much was at stake—before turning to glare at her father and Lord Cunningham.
“Vingt-et-un,” Daniel Long said with a slight frown. “That’s the one where we’re each dealt cards and we have to make twenty-one without going over, right?”
Thaddeus winced at the young man’s ignorance. Imogen’s father and Lord Cunningham exchanged chuckles. Captain Devereux even looked sorry for the lad. “That’s the one,” he said. “Mergen, the first round, if you please.”
The initial cards were dealt and the men made their first bets. Imogen held her breath, beyond anxious over how the game might proceed. Thaddeus had to play against more than just her father and Lord Cunningham. Two strangers were also vying for her, though she didn’t think young Mr. Long had a chance. Captain Devereux was a different kettle of fish, though. In all her panic and worry over running away with Thaddeus, she had never once considered that she might end up the prisoner of a third man entirely.
“What a shame,” Captain Devereux said as Imogen’s father slammed his cards on the table. “Twenty-six. Bad luck there.”
Thaddeus won the hand, which came as an immense relief to Imogen. But he lost the next three. Her stomach twisted as the very real possibility of being lost forever loomed before her. The only saving grace was that no single man at the table seemed to gain the upper hand. Lord Cunningham won a hand, but then lost twice as much money as he’d won on the next. Captain Devereux played well and gained a small pile of coins, only to throw it all away on what Imogen considered careless betting on the next hand. His betting was so careless that she wondered if he were taking the game seriously. Mr. Long didn’t win a single hand, but he bet wisely and only lost a pittance with each hand, whereas the others seemed to want to drive the stakes up as high as possible right from the start.
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