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Hugh: Pirates of Britannia Connected World (Sons of Sagamore Book 1)

Page 2

by Ruth A. Casie


  He crossed the field by the butts and stumbled over a pair of woman’s shoes.

  “Why so deep in thought?” Charlotte asked, bringing him back to the present.

  “A riddle. What costs nothing but is worth everything, weighs nothing but lasts a lifetime, that one person can’t own but two can share?”

  He gazed at her face and watched it change as she studied his question. Finally, a smile.

  “Love.” She kissed his nose. “You won’t distract me with a riddle. What had you deep in thought?”

  “If you must know, you. I’m fortunate you’re mine.”

  Charlotte snuggled closer. “You’re not the only one who is lucky. I’m glad I decided to visit Jane six months ago.”

  Hugh wrapped his arm around her waist, held her tight and kissed her long and deep. He savored her soft, tender lips. His body ached for her with a sudden, fierce fire. It was a heady feeling. Her soft, curved body melted into his.

  “You make it difficult to leave you.” Hugh’s forehead rested on hers.

  “You figured out my secret plan.” She was quiet. “Can’t you wait a bit longer? I’m sure my father will return soon. He usually doesn’t stay away this long.”

  “No. I already stayed longer than I planned. As the oldest son, Father and I work closely together.”

  “Does he train you to take his place at Glen Kirk?”

  “I never thought about taking his place. Through the years he’s trained me to handle the obligations of the eldest son. Now that I have my own business, my brothers have taken over most of my responsibilities, but I return to Glen Kirk to fulfill those that are still mine. I’ll be with you in a few weeks when you come to the tournament. I’m looking forward to introducing you to my family.”

  “Will you two come back in here?” Jane called from the salon. “I refuse to play another game with him.”

  “’Tis not my fault you play poorly.” John laughed loudly, threw the dice, and moved the pieces. “Leave them alone, Jane. Besides, it’s your turn. You may win this game.”

  Later that evening

  “You enjoyed yourself. Did Jane win any games?” John accompanied Hugh on his walk home.

  “Don’t change the subject. You’re mad if you don’t investigate Charlotte’s family. Granted, the girl is bright, witty, and lovely, but what do you know about her or the Edens?”

  “You worry too much,” Hugh said, as they walked on.

  “I’ve never seen you like this. You. Who investigates each person who approaches you to determine if you’ll do business with them. Yet this, something that will impact your life forever, let me say that again, f-o-r-e-v-e-r, and you dismiss the idea.”

  “You would investigate my own brothers.” Hugh slapped him on the back and continued on.

  “I would if a defunct earldom became suddenly activated by a man who appeared out of nowhere after being absent thirty years. What better way for him to line his pockets than to marry off his only daughter to one of the wealthiest men in England?”

  “John, you’re seeing conspiracies where none exist.”

  “Your stock and trade are your reputation and ability to make quick profitable decisions. Humor me. Let me look into them. I hope I find nothing, and afterward I will know I did everything to protect you.”

  “I gathered all the information about the earl that I need. After the tragic death of his older brother and his entire family, Miles succeeded to the earldom. He relocated to France to be with his wife’s family, the Cantrelles, and managed the Sagamore estate from afar. Five years later, Juliet, his wife, died – leaving him with Charlotte. He kept his family at his wife’s home until three years ago, when following the death of his wife’s parents, he and Charlotte returned to England. His finances, enhanced by a modest inheritance from the Cantrelle estate, appear to be healthy but limited. The majority of the estate was left to Charlotte.”

  “Who provided you with that information? Charlotte?”

  “No. Neil Falin came to my office before I returned to Glen Kirk and mentioned his daughter pouted about me spending time with Charlotte. He spoke of the Edens. Of course, he didn’t give me explicit financial information about the earl.”

  “Falin is not the most reliable source,” John said. “Now there’s an odd man. With a daughter of marriageable age and access to one of the wealthiest single men in England. I can understand him not getting involved in encouraging a relationship between you and Martha, but his wife? I think Mistress Falin would be a mother with a mission.”

  “Please, not Martha. She’s a lovely woman, but I’m not interested in her as a companion.”

  Martha wasn’t even a lovely woman. She irritated him showing up at odd places and being somewhat underfoot. He could only imagine what he’d have to contend with if she had her mother’s help.

  He glanced at John. Could his friend be right, about looking into the Edens’ background?

  “You have that smug expression.”

  “What smug expression?”

  “The one that says you intend to investigate the Edens and Falin whether I ask you to or not.”

  “I prefer not to keep it a secret from you. I’ll report back to you if I find anything about either one.”

  They stood in front of Hugh’s home.

  “Come in for a drink?”

  “Not tonight. I did enjoy the evening. I do think Charlotte is lovely and wonderful, and I hope I find nothing.”

  “You needn’t explain. I understand you’re looking out for my best interests. Just don’t get annoyed when I tell you I told you so.”

  “I would never forgive myself if something happened to you because I didn’t follow my instincts. Speak to you tomorrow.” The deep lines on John’s face faded, replaced by a tired smile.

  John’s relief startled him. The man really worried about him. They were boyhood friends, and while he had a knack for making money, John’s gift was finding information nobody wanted found.

  Hugh entered the house. The servants asleep, he went into the library. As he stood at the library window, he poured himself a goblet of wine from the decanter on the sideboard and watched the John’s retreating figure disappear into the growing evening fog. John was right, of course. Too much was at stake. However, no matter what John found, nothing would stop him from marrying Charlotte.

  Chapter Two

  Cinque Port, Hastings

  August 1288

  It was late morning. Villagers choked the lane on their way to the market. Sailors made their way onto the docks to their ships. The day was already hot with a humid breeze coming off the water.

  Lord Miles Eden, Earl of Sagamore made his way to the Crow’s Nest, a tavern across from the docks. It was like any other drinking establishment along the docks and not a place for the faint of heart. The men there worked hard, drank harder, and given an opportunity, played still harder.

  Nor was the Crow’s Nest a place where a person of his stature spent time. His kind came here for several reasons: a wench, a game, or a loan. Those were not the reasons Lord Eden was here. His trading business afforded him a discreet messenger service that paid him well, considering the risks he had to take. One of his clients had called the meeting.

  He didn’t hesitate at the door. It was not wise to appear timid or too eager. Both would be spotted a mile away and color the negotiation.

  Miles entered the dimly lit tavern. The odor of stale ale and cooked cabbage, onions and spices greeted him. Bar maids made their way around the long lines of oak tables delivering ale and food.

  Miles passed the gaming tables, ignoring the temptation to join the dice games. He moved with an air of privilege – after all, he was an earl – to the back of the room, where the men sat talking quietly among themselves.

  On his way, he grabbed an ale off a tray. Eager to be out of the place, he stood to the side to fade into the background and scanned the room while drinking. Where was the pirate?

  A deep laugh from the far corner made
him snap his head around. Grabbing a tankard from a passing wench for his friend, he headed for his quarry.

  “MacAlpin, you wanted to see me,” he said, giving the man the full tankard.

  “Aye.” The pirate king smiled, took the offered ale, and sat back, in no hurry to say anything.

  MacAlpin wasn’t going to make this easy. The pirate’s message surprised him. While he couriered messages, it had been months since he got any work from this client.

  “Join me. I hear you’ve been traveling.” The pirate lifted the tankard and took a hearty drink. “How are DuClare and Rodigio? Knowing them, your trip was not as successful as you planned.”

  Eden dipped his head. “You never cease to amaze me. How you find out…”

  “I have my ways. I wondered how far you would get with your venture. Where are you off to next?”

  “London.” The man played at being a friend. Miles was aware that at an instant, the pirate could turn and be your worst enemy. Everyone in the Cinque Ports and along the coast of England stayed alert. This was one man you didn’t want to cross. He had a very long memory.

  “London?” The lines of concentration deepened along MacAlpin’s brow.

  Miles tried to decipher the man’s thoughts. That was a losing battle. What did the man want now? The last message he carried was to the Lord High Chancellor.

  The pirate sat forward. “I’m bemoaning my fate having to go to London. I hate the place and would rather be on the sea on my way back to Scarba.”

  “Too close to the hangman’s noose, I suspect.” Miles could play MacAlpin’s game. If the man was desperate for the delivery, he must be willing to pay.

  Any other man would squirm under MacAlpin’s scrutiny, but he knew his worth to the pirate and would not cower like so many others. MacAlpin might be king of the pirates. He was an earl in King Edward’s court.

  “You are returning to London and I do value my neck. It’s why I had you meet me. I made a promise to deliver a package. Take it with you. My contact will pay. As always, I will make it worth your while. Three times the usual rate.”

  MacAlpin sat back, sporting a satisfied smile. The pirate drained the tankard dry. “I should warn you. A certain amount of danger is to be expected, but when did that ever bother you?”

  Miles swirled the beer in his tankard. He was going to London anyway. What harm could there be? With any luck, he would come away with his life and a great deal of money.

  “What am I carrying? I’m taking the risk. I want to be aware of the possible consequences.”

  “You don’t want to know. You are discreet and enjoy staying in the dark. It’s why I chose you for this mission. Let’s just say, your king would not be too happy with its contents. The less you know, the better off you are.”

  The pirate king stood, signaling the end of the meeting.

  “Meet me at my ship. I sail on the evening tide.”

  Miles rose to his feet as MacAlpin faded into the sea of men. He had one more stop to make before he quit Hastings.

  Neil Falin sat behind his double pedestal desk in his trading office, reading the parchment Eden gave him. “You want me to provide funds for a boat and crew to export Holy Land relics. Smuggling goods out of the country.”

  Eden sat across from Falin. An old acquaintance, the man sought him out upon his return to England. The men knew each other well enough to speak plainly. Falin traded in salted herring. His lordship’s high living style required an additional income, one that didn’t include paying taxes. Falin forged documents, smuggled wool, and other questionable items out of England.

  “Antiques never stopped you before,” Eden said. “The items are authentic, simply without papers.”

  “Are the relics in your possession?”

  “Yes, several pieces from the Holy Land and Demietta, but more are available.” Miles had little issues bringing the items in from France with his household goods. Exporting them, getting the items through customs was another story.

  “Of course, you need to purchase them.” Falin returned his attention to the parchment. “According to this, you plan to sail in waters that are ripe with thieves.”

  Falin handed the document back to Eden. “I see too many hazards, no guarantees, and not much money. I’m sorry. I’m not willing to risk my money on this project. You can bring the relics to me. Then we can think of doing business. Forest is always interested in selling items he can get his hands on.”

  Miles remained relaxed on the outside. However, inside he was ready to explode. Forest was one man whose path he had no intention of crossing. Smuggling was his stock and trade. Even after all these years. The man had no redeeming qualities.

  “Who else did you invite to join your venture?”

  “I had success with DuClare in France and Rodigio in Italy. Both are eager.” The two men were the biggest traders on the Continent. Both questioned the venture down to the authenticity of the items. The two traders were indeed eager – for him to be gone.

  “Based on what you showed me, I imagine you had little success, which is why you are here. I suppose you need coin to climb up the royal ladder now that you have returned to England. Edens have not been in court for some time.”

  “I preferred France. I had no heart to return to England after Juliet died.”

  “Keep to that story, but I understand why you returned. The income potential of the old estate is more than adequate and let’s not forget prestige. We are two of a kind.”

  “How so?” Miles asked. The idea he was anything like Falin revolted him.

  “Your daughter is fetching. Only the best for her. Please, don’t give me that father-protecting-his-daughter stare. I have no interest in her. I feel the same way about my Martha. Your Charlotte is your best asset. Don’t squander her.”

  The bastard, he thinks this is all about Charlotte.

  At least he hadn’t figured out his financial situation.

  Since returning to England, everyone, including Charlotte, was sure his money came from the Sagamore estate. That made him laugh. The money from the estate was dangerously low. Yes, he had a modest trade business, but it was delivering messages and packages that kept Charlotte in gowns, food on the table, and a roof over her head. Short on funds and with less business, he was forced to take more chances. Desperation led him to return to England.

  Falin sat back with his smug, little smile. The man gossiped like an old woman, but his knack for hearing rumblings in the financial community was the envy of many. Up until now, Falin pointed him in the direction where money could be found. Today he wasn’t any help.

  “You sold more than half of your estate lands in France to raise funds.”

  “That should prove to you how much I believe in this plan.”

  “Or that you’re desperate. Unless you want to sell off more land? The vineyard?”

  “That is not an option. It sustains the estate. This plan works. Besides, the land is part of Charlotte’s dowry.”

  “That didn’t bother you when you sold her meadow.”

  Eden wanted to wipe the haughty expression off Falin’s face.

  Falin leaned over his desk. “I can spare you a hundred pounds.”

  Eden jumped to his feet.

  Startled, Falin pulled away.

  “I don’t need your charity.”

  The last thing he needed now was Falin gossiping about his solvency.

  “Who said anything about charity. Strictly a business transaction.”

  A business transaction with repayment at almost double the amount of the loan. He was in debt enough and didn’t, or more correctly couldn’t, take on any more.

  “Did you speak to Hugh Talbot?”

  Eden stifled a moan. Talbot. The man was the most sought-after financier in London. Everyone was aware of his story. A self-made man who grew his business one coin at a time. Those who threw in with him became wealthy. Nobleman and merchant alike wanted to be on his client list. Some said even the king fought for a spo
t.

  “Do you have money with him?” Eden asked.

  Falin’s smile faded. “No. Talbot wouldn’t take my money. He is particular about who he does business with.”

  Talbot’s refusal did not surprise him. Thieves and smugglers weren’t desirable patrons.

  “You suggest I speak to him and face his rejection.”

  “You would be among some highly esteemed company,” Falin said, then glanced at him with a strange gleam in his eye. “You should speak to your daughter.”

  “Charlotte? What does she have to do with this?” Eden got testier by the minute.

  “Charlotte has a beau.”

  “What the devil are you talking about? Why do I care?”

  “Hugh Talbot. That’s why you care.”

  Eden stared at Falin as if the man sprouted horns.

  “Talbot spent all his free time at the Parkers’ until he returned to Northumberland. While in London, Charlotte was his constant companion socially and at several archery tournaments. I know. Charlotte was all my daughter talked—complained about.”

  Eden’s mind worked fast. Charlotte gave him no indication she was interested in anyone. His daughter mostly stayed at the Parkers’. Had Talbot compromised his daughter? He would demand satisfaction. No. No. His temper cooled. Charlotte wouldn’t let that happen. She was a smart girl. Besides, the man was not a knave. However, if Falin was right, this might be his perfect solution.

  He could not afford to give any hint he faced financial difficulties. He needed funds to repay Charlotte’s dowry, make repairs his vineyard workers requested. Make it appear as if the sale of the meadow was to pay for the repairs.

  He needed money, plain and simple. MacAlpin’s money would help.

  “I got a glimpse of Talbot at a horse race. Everyone says he’s solid and upstanding,” Eden mumbled. Charlotte would be well taken care of. He could enjoy Talbot’s estate, joining him and Charlotte at court, audiences with the royals, not worrying about money.

  What was he thinking? His elation plummeted. His mood was more volatile than sailing across the channel in bad weather. Talbot, the self-made man, had everything. What could he offer that would seal his marriage to Charlotte? The man had money, prestige, royal connections – surprising for a commoner – and he was able to attract a woman with a more sizable dowry. What could he offer? Sagamore? An estate that was in dire need of care? All he had was an empty…

 

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