Historical Romance Boxed Set Page 8

  “Of course I’ll go. The duke wouldn’t be stupid enough to kill me before he secures the safety of his daughter. As long as you’re here to watch Anne, I’ll retrieve Fury from the stables and see what this messenger has to say.”

  Trenton grunted, obviously unconvinced that Nathaniel’s decision was a wise one.

  Though her reasons differed, Alexandra had to agree. If the Duke of Greystone was anything like the man her captors thought he was, he would have no compunction about killing Nathaniel, knowing Anne to be safe with her mother. Should that happen, Nathaniel’s mates could very well try to avenge his death with her own.

  * * *

  Nathaniel Kent strode through the crowded streets of Liverpool with Fury, his giant black stallion, prancing at his heels. His mood was darker than reason would suggest. They had managed to kidnap Anne without any significant problems. By rights he should be feeling differently. But holding his half sister against her will didn’t sit right on his conscience, despite Richard. He had thought it would be easy to hate her. Now he knew he was wrong. He wasn’t sure what he felt—grudging respect, perhaps, a small amount of admiration—but certainly not hate.

  As he walked toward the docks, ridge-capped waves rose and fell as a restless sea bucked against the ships at harbor like a horse resisting its rider. Nathaniel reflected upon the fickle nature of that sea. How deceptively gentle she could be. How enraged and unforgiving. Still, she was his first love and had been a part of his life for almost fourteen years.

  Rubbing his temples to relieve the sudden pounding of a headache, he scanned the docks for the man he was to meet. The salty air smelled of fish, and the throaty coo of pigeons resounded as the gray and white birds made a nuisance of themselves, flapping and hopping among the crates being loaded into the bellies of various ships.

  Finally Nathaniel spotted a small, slender figure who appeared uncertain amid the sailors, merchants, clerks, and bawdy women. He glanced at the sun. Good, the man was on time.

  From a distance, the stranger appeared no older than twenty, but closer inspection revealed the shadow of two or three days’ beard growth and lines that creased a leather-like face. Nathaniel guessed he was at least forty.

  “Are you Rat?” he asked, checking to make sure no one seemed to be taking particular notice of either of them.

  “That’s what they call me.” Shabbily dressed in drab breeches and gaiters, a ragged, oversized coat, and a top hat smashed accordion-style, Rat looked as though he hadn’t bathed in weeks. And he smelled no better.

  “What do you want?” Nathaniel came quickly to the point. Meeting a stranger, especially one associated with his father, made him nervous, even on such a busy quay.

  “Don’t worry, I’m a friend.”

  “I trust friends less than anyone. At least my enemies never surprise me.”

  Rat’s whisker-peppered cheeks broke into a smile. “Ye’ll change yer mind when ye ‘ear what I’ve got to say. What I know might save yer bacon.”

  “I’m waiting.” A burly sailor hefted the crate closest to them, and Rat hesitated, making Nathaniel scowl. “Pray, make your point. My patience wears thin!”

  “Not so fast.” Rat picked something green from his teeth with a long, dirty fingernail. “I’m wonderin’ what it’s worth to ye.”

  “So you’re after money. Now we’re getting somewhere—”

  “That’s not all. I want ye to take me to sea with ye.” He rubbed his hands together before continuing. “I got myself in a bit of trouble, an’ I got nowhere else to go.”

  Nathaniel studied the other man’s muddy boots and the tears in his baggy clothes. There was something about Rat he didn’t like, but the bloke had definitely raised Nathaniel’s curiosity.

  “What kind of trouble?”

  Rat scratched his greasy head, smiling. “‘Is Grace is lookin’ for me. I worked in the stables at Bridlewood for a time, until a pair of fancy candelabras went missin’ from the ‘ouse. Unfortunately, the ‘ousekeeper claimed I took ‘em.”

  Nathaniel winced as sunlight glared off the mirror-like sea, making his head feel as if it would explode. “Did you take them?”

  Rat revealed his diseased gums with a grin. “Why would I do a thing like that? I could go to gaol, ye know.”

  Nathaniel shook his head, irritation making his nerves raw. This man was a common thief and didn’t even have the good sense to hide it. “I’m in no mood for games,” he bit out. “I’ll pay you what your information is worth, but our association ends there.”

  A look of surprise claimed Rat’s features. “Yer not cross about the candelabras, are ye? A man’s got to eat. Kimbolten ‘as the money of a king, but ‘e’s bloody mean. ‘E feeds ‘is servants nothin’ but ‘ardtack biscuits an’ gruel. I was starvin’, that I was.”

  Nathaniel let the contempt he felt show in his face, and Rat’s voice trailed off. “You expect me to believe that you lived in a household as rich as my father’s and had to resort to stealing in order to get full? Any servant worth his salt can manage enough to eat in a household such as Greystone’s, from the family’s table scraps if nowhere else.”

  Rat sighed. “Yer awful uppity for bein’ a glorified thief yerself,” he grumbled under his breath, but his eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets when Nathaniel gripped him by the lapels of his jacket and lifted him several inches into the air.

  “I am nothing like you or any other thief,” he ground out, his face so close to Rat’s that he could smell the stench of alcohol on the man’s breath. “I take only what should be mine by rights.”

  “Aye.” The smaller man tried to shrink away. “I didn’t mean nothin’ by it. I know ye claim to be the duke’s son an’ all, an’ of course that makes us different. The truth of it is, I took the silver to sell for a bit of grog. But there never was a bigger miser of food than Greystone’s ‘ousekeeper. I wasn’t lyin’ about that.”

  Nathaniel set the man back on his feet, none too gently. “As I thought. What do you have to tell me?”

  “Ye ‘ave to take me with ye.” Rat’s voice took on a pleading quality. “‘Is Grace will kill me if ‘e finds out I’ve met with ye, whether I tell ye anythin’ or not. Ye’ve got ‘im actin’ like a mad dog, ye do, what with troublin’ ‘is ships an’ all.”

  Nathaniel ran his fingers through the hair that had worked itself free of the black ribbon holding the rest back. His small band was a loyal, well-trusted group, only a few of them true criminals. But what Rat said was true. He had risked his life in coming to Nathaniel. “You don’t look like a sailor. Do you know the sea?”

  “A bit.”

  “Do you have any idea what you’re getting into? What: could happen if we’re caught?”

  Flat shrugged. “I’m already a wanted man. I’d go to Newgate regardless. An’ a man’s got to eat—”

  “Save your breath.” Nathaniel frowned. “What can you tell me about my father? Is he going to trade Richard for Lady Anne?”

  “Lady Anne?” Rat squinted up at him.

  “Aye. Is he going to let Richard go?”

  “Nay. Mary wanted me to tell ye that ‘e’s on to ‘er. She ‘ad to tell him where ye were. ‘E’s on ‘is way ‘ere.”

  Nathaniel’s heart began to pound in his ears, keeping rhythm with his headache. “How did the duke catch her?”

  Rat shook his head. “That I can’t say. But she told me to find ye and warn ye.”

  “What about Lady Anne?”

  The small man looked puzzled. “I don’t know about ‘er. But Mary told me to tell ye somethin’ else. She ‘eard the duke’s controller tellin’ someone that three ships are leavin’ Bristol a week from Wednesday, the Frederica, the Honest George, and the Eastern Horizon. The Frederica an’ Honest George are ‘eadin’ to China by the regular route, but the other is ‘eadin’ to Russia.”

  Nathaniel stiffened in surprise. To send a ship into the Black Sea given the current political climate in that area was unusual indeed. England was near
ly at war with Russia. What did it mean?

  Rat grinned, a greedy glint entering his eye. “Mary said that bit of news should be worth a fair amount of coin.”

  Nathaniel pulled a wad of notes from his pocket, not even bothering to count the amount he handed over. That the duke was coming after him meant his father had no plans to trade Richard for Lady Anne. What would Nathaniel do with his half sister now? And how would he rescue Richard when he had to flee himself?

  “Mary wanted me to tell ye one other thing, but as far as I can figure, it’s of no account. She said she wouldn’t ‘ave ‘elped ye if ye weren’t so bloody ‘and-some.” Rat spat at the ground, barely missing his own foot. “Women.”

  Nathaniel ignored the remark. Whatever the reason Mary had risked herself to warn him, he was grateful. “We have to leave today. I’ll meet you here tonight, late. But be forewarned. Working for me is not easy. Gaol is the least of your fears. A man could get himself killed. Understand?”

  “Ye provide three meals a day an’ a bit of grog, don’t ye?”

  Nathaniel nodded.

  “I’ll be ‘ere, Cap’n.”

  “Then get yourself a bath as well,” Nathaniel added, tossing the man another coin.

  * * *

  Alexandra sat still while Trenton bandaged her chafed wrists. Nathaniel had been gone for over an hour, and in the strained silence of their waiting, Trenton had applied ointment to Alexandra’s wounds. Though she wasn’t sure what the unguent was, by its smell she suspected it was intended for animals, not humans. Still, she wasn’t about to complain. At least Trenton had cut her loose, and the pain in her hands and feet had finally ebbed.

  “What happens if Nathaniel doesn’t come back?” she asked when the minutes began to drag like days. Though both Trenton and Tiny seemed like decent men compared to the dangerous Nathaniel, they were all pirates, plain and simple. Alexandra had overheard enough about their business to know that much. And the man called Garth was less kind. The others could be even worse.

  Nathaniel was obviously their leader. Should something happen to him, she had no idea who would gain control. Or what they might do with her. After all, they thought her to be the daughter of their nemesis.

  Trenton shrugged. “He’ll come back,” he said, but Alexandra could feel his anxiety as he turned about the room like a caged animal.

  “If he doesn’t, will you let me go?” Her voice sounded small and frightened, even to her own ears. She cleared her throat and spoke more surely. “I mean, if Greystone kidnaps Nathaniel, or… or something, what will happen to me?”

  “Nathaniel will be back,” Trenton nearly shouted, making Alexandra cringe. “You’re the duke’s daughter, for heaven’s sake. Surely you mean enough to him that he wouldn’t be so foolish.”

  “But you can’t be sure what Greystone will do,” she said, taking a line of reasoning he would understand.

  Trenton ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. “I’m sorry. I know you’re scared. I just don’t have any answers right now. We wait. That’s all. We just wait.”

  Alexandra stood and walked to the window. One story below, the street was jumbled with women selling flowers, gypsies recaning chairs, peddlers plying their wares. Horses and carriages plowed through the melee amidst singsong voices—”Who’ll buy my sweet lavender?”—and she longed to walk freely among them.

  “Why does Nathaniel hate the duke so badly?” she asked.

  Trenton spoke from behind her. “When Nathaniel’s mother bore your father a deformed son, he—”

  “Deformed?” Alexandra glanced over her shoulder. In her mind, Nathaniel was anything but deformed.

  “His arm, of course. Greystone refused to have an imperfect heir. He tried to smother him, and would have succeeded if his housekeeper hadn’t stopped him. Martha Haverson rescued Nathaniel and ran away with him, raised him as her own.”

  “The duke tried to kill Nathaniel?”

  Trenton nodded. “Aye. Your father’s a dark man.”

  Alexandra didn’t reply. She couldn’t imagine a man attempting to murder an innocent newborn, much less one of his own flesh. But then, she didn’t know Greystone.

  Still, Nathaniel’s past didn’t justify his actions now. She was as innocent as he had been as a baby, and she could be in just as much danger. “How did you meet Nathaniel?”

  “We served in the same frigate during the Opium War. Nathaniel was only eleven then.” Trenton’s voice softened as he warmed to the tale, no doubt as eager as she to keep their minds off their present anxiety. “He was a powder monkey, and the quickest one I’ve ever seen. At first, the other men teased him about his arm. They liked to rile his temper, and Nathaniel’s got a good one.” He chuckled. “But through the years he stood toe-to-toe with every last one of them until no one dared say anything about his arm or anything else, especially as he became stronger and quicker with only one than they were with two. He certainly earned my respect. I was a bit older than he when we met, closer to seventeen or eighteen—”

  “You don’t know?”

  Trenton shook his head. “I grew up as an orphan. My mother abandoned me when I was young, and I was raised in a workhouse. That place was hell,” he murmured, his words holding no self-pity. “I ran away to join the navy early on, and believe me, I’ve never looked back. Nathaniel’s all the family I’ve got.”

  Alexandra couldn’t help but feel a twinge of empathy for the tall, brown-eyed man in front of her. When he fell silent, she tried to draw him into conversation again. “How long did you serve together?”

  “Nearly five years, until our ship was decommissioned. Then we struck out on our own. We worked for a Swedish merchant for a while who took quite a liking to Nathaniel. Said he was the son he never had. When Sven died, he left his ship to us.”

  “So why would you risk your lives and your ship stealing other people’s cargo?”

  Alexandra’s words caused Trenton to glower. “I don’t expect you to understand. You were raised with all the money you could ever dream of, with finery and plenty to eat. Nathaniel and I had nothing, some days less than nothing.” He paced in front of the door, brooding. “Even still, for Nathaniel, it’s not the money.”

  “What about the housekeeper who rescued Nathaniel? You said she raised him as her own. Certainly he knew love.”

  “Martha did her best, but servants don’t make much, and she had to live with her employers. Nathaniel stayed with her sister, Beatrice, and Beatrice’s eight children. I guess Bee was none too kind… or generous.”

  “I see.” Alexandra tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, understanding to a small degree what might have formed Nathaniel into the bitter man he was. “Is Martha still alive?”

  “No.” Trenton spat into the empty chamber pot and arched a brow at her. “Your father staged an accident. Nathaniel was nearly killed, too. It happened just after Martha took him to meet the duke—”

  “Meet him?” Alexandra repeated in surprise.

  “Aye. He was only seven or so, and she thought Greystone might change his mind when he saw how capable and clever Nathaniel was. Evidently he didn’t.”

  Alexandra shivered. “How did the, er, accident happen?”

  “They were traveling post. Someone ran their carriage off the road, and it overturned. Martha was pinned beneath it. Another fellow was killed, too. A stranger. But Nathaniel managed to crawl out.”

  “Did he go back to Martha’s sister’s then?”

  “For a while. But without Martha’s income, times got even harder, and Beatrice became more resentful of his presence. He ran away several times. Lived on the streets for almost a year. Then he joined the navy.”

  “By the law, Nathaniel is the duke’s rightful heir. There is nothing Greystone can do about that,” she pointed out.

  “There is if no one can prove the duke is lying.” Trenton gave her an aggravated look that told Alexandra he didn’t believe she hadn’t heard any of this before, but he continued with the
story anyway. “Your father claims the son his first wife bore him died the day of its birth, only minutes after his mother. Martha was the only person who knew otherwise, besides the midwife, who was old at the time and died shortly after.”

  “But why didn’t Martha try to establish the truth while Nathaniel was still a baby? It would have been far simpler back then.”

  “I don’t know. She was probably afraid of the duke at first, afraid for Nathaniel. And she wanted him as her own. She went to London and lived in hiding for several years. Then she heard about your birth and decided, since you were a girl, that the duke might welcome Nathaniel back after all, especially when he saw that the boy’s arm was no handicap. She knew she could never give Nathaniel all the duke could, so she risked her life to take him home—and she paid the price.”

  “Could the duke be so evil?”

  Trenton’s eyes became as hard as flint. “You have no idea.”

  “Listen,” she said, hoping an honest appeal to Trenton might help her case. He seemed like a decent man. “I’ve not heard any of this before. I’m not Lady Anne. I don’t even know her or the duke. Can’t you see that? If you don’t let me go, I’ll miss my boat to India and then—”

  Frantic banging at the door made them both jump as Nathaniel’s voice came through the panel.

  “Trenton! Let me in.”

  Trenton appeared relieved by the sound of his captain’s voice, but Alexandra suspected he was equally glad to be saved from having to respond to her entreaty. He crossed the room and threw back the bolt, and the pirate captain pushed inside.

  “We must go. Now,” Nathaniel told him, a determined look on his face.

  “What happened?” Trenton followed his friend around the room as Nathaniel stuffed into a bag what few belongings he had brought with him the night before.

  “Mary’s been found out. My father’s on his way here.”

  “But what about Richard? And her?” Trenton indicated Alexandra with a nod of his head.