Stormy Persuasion

  He was beginning to think Grigg’s man had lied about those London deliveries. Yet everything the man had said that night had made sense. Why would smugglers come to London except to do business? Why wouldn’t Grigg hit this lucrative market after finding it nearly risk-free? His runs across the Channel would be much quicker, and he’d avoid the heavily patrolled southern coast. And revenuers didn’t police the city. They might keep an eye on the docks, but the city was too big. And they weren’t expecting smuggled goods to get in by land routes.

  “Are you sure this plan will actually bear fruit?” Burdis asked, not for the first time.

  “This tavern is almost out of brandy. They are charging exorbitantly high prices for what little they have left. Last night I went in and ordered a glass. When I commented on the price, I was told to stop complaining, that they’d be getting a shipment soon.”

  “Yes, yes, I know it looks promising, but—”

  “You didn’t have to come along.”

  “You mean you hoped I wouldn’t. But the man’s got to hang, Nathan, publicly, legally. I can’t let you just have at him.”

  “But he’ll be hung for smuggling, not for killing my father,” Nathan growled.

  “Does it really matter why he hangs, as long as he hangs?”

  It mattered, but obviously only to Nathan. Grigg had caused the rift between Nathan and Jory, made them part ways with anger, and killed Jory before Nathan could fix that, before he could tell Jory how sorry he was for leaving the way he did.

  “You still going to that ball tomorrow night that I arranged for you?”

  The commander’s attitude toward Nathan had changed quite a bit after Nathan returned to England, almost as if they were friends now. Having “worked together,” as it were, and successfully, Nathan wasn’t even surprised. But he’d found it useful, having friends with connections, when he’d got it into his head to enter her world.

  Which had been a crazy notion to begin with, and since he didn’t even know if Judith would be at the ball, he said, “I don’t know.”

  “My tailor didn’t come through for you in time?”

  “He did. I’m just having second thoughts about it.”

  “I had to call in a huge favor someone owed me to get you that invitation. What the devil d’you mean, you don’t know?”

  “Just that. I’m not so sure it’s a good idea now, to see her again.”

  Arnold, who hadn’t questioned why Nathan had wanted to attend a ball in London, rolled his eyes. “So it’s a woman. That’s what I had to promise my life away for? I should have known.”

  “Your life?” Nathan said with a chuckle.

  “You can’t believe what that hostess is capable of demanding in return. If I wasn’t already married, she might even demand that I propose marriage to her. She’s a widow.”

  As exaggerations went, that one had to be a whopper. Nathan should never have asked the favor. He just didn’t like the way his relationship with Judith had ended. At least that was the excuse he’d convinced himself of. He’d behaved like an ass. He knew it better than anyone else. But he wasn’t used to these feelings she had stirred up in him. They were driving him crazy. She had given him no clue about how she felt about him. The sadness he’d seen in her eyes was as likely to have been disgust as disappointment. During the entire trip back to Bridgeport, he’d never seen her alone. She’d always been with Jack or her uncle. She wore her family like a shield. That damned, infuriating family . . .

  Her father did apologize, but how sincere could an apology be when a threat was laced into it? “You might be innocent on one count, but not all,” Anthony had added that day. “I know what you did. Stay away from my daughter. I won’t warn you again.”

  Nathan might have demanded an explanation if his first thought hadn’t been that the man knew he’d bedded his daughter. But saner reasoning later suggested Anthony couldn’t know that. Nathan was still alive, after all.

  But not every member of her family was hostile to him. Her American uncles weren’t bad sorts at all. Boyd had been true to his word. He had rounded up a crew and a full cargo for Nathan and had even suggested where he could sell it quickly, in Ipswich or Newport, for the best prices. Nathan hadn’t declined it when a free cargo would turn quite a tidy sum. But he was almost feeling rich now since James Malory had also come through with the handsome fee he’d promised him for his help.

  It was nearing noon. Burdis would be taking his break soon but would resume surveillance again that evening. He’d been doubtful of a morning delivery from the start, was still sure the smugglers would prefer to operate in the shadows of night. Nathan knew Burdis was just here now to humor him.

  “I’m going to have to start bringing a chair for this mission,” Arnold said, only half joking.

  Nathan started to laugh, but stopped at the sound of another wagon nearby. He glanced around the corner again. A slow, satisfied grin spread across his lips. A wagon was approaching the tavern’s back entrance. Three men were on the perch, another three in the back sitting on crates. It didn’t take that many men to make deliveries.

  “He’s here,” Nathan warned in low tones. “And with enough men to stave off trouble. He obviously doesn’t take risks with a load this big.”

  “You’re sure it’s him?”

  “I’ve only seen him once. But Hammett Grigg has a face you can’t forget. He’s got his top man with him, too, Mr. Olivey.”

  “I want his ship as well,” Arnold reminded Nathan.

  “I’m sure you can persuade one of them to take you to it afterward—if any of them are left alive. So we’re handling this as we discussed?”

  “We discussed not killing them, as I recall,” Arnold grumbled, and sent half his men around the tavern to come up on the other side of it. He wanted no one escaping. “Go ahead and distract them. If you can manage a confession, I’ll add murder to his list of charges. If it looks like he’d rather just shoot you, get out of the bloody way.”

  “Yes, Mother,” Nathan said drily, and stepped around the corner.

  The wagon was just coming to a stop with all six men still in it. Nathan walked to the front of the wagon and patted one of the horses as he positioned himself between the two animals. The reins were within his reach, but he’d have to lean forward to make sure he got both of them. The wagon was the only way Grigg and his men might still escape, simply by charging forward down the alley. But Nathan knew grabbing the reins was too aggressive a step to take just yet.

  Olivey noticed him first and nudged Grigg. The older man glared at him. “You again? You Tremaynes are a bleedin’ bane,” Hammett said, drawing a pistol.

  “There’s no need for weapons,” Nathan replied calmly. “Killing my father wasn’t enough for you?”

  “Who says I did that?” Hammett smirked.

  “One of your men.”

  “Like hell,” Hammett began, but then he laughed. “Jory horned in on a couple of my buyers and wouldn’t let me go near your sister, preferring that damned nabob. He had it coming. And now you do, too.”

  “My sister? You bastard—”

  The shot was fired. Nathan dodged, then leapt for the reins, yanking them out of Olivey’s hands. Grigg had used an old pistol with only one charge, but now he was reaching for another tucked in his pants.

  Arnold’s voice rang out clearly as he moved in with his men, “You will cease and desist! In the name of King William, I am placing you under arrest for stealing from the Crown with the crime of smuggling—and for the murder of one Jory Tremayne.”

  The revenuers behind the wagon had already come forward, their rifles aimed at Grigg’s men. The three in the back of the vehicle didn’t reach for theirs. The third man on the perch jumped down and ran to the tavern’s back door, but it was locked. A shot to his leg made sure he didn’t try anything else. Nathan started to calm the horses, worried they still might bolt from the noise, but they’d merely raised their heads, well trained or used to loud noises. He still quickl
y used the reins to hobble one of them for now. Olivey had immediately raised his hands. Grigg did so slowly now. He still might reach for the pistols tucked in his pants, but with so many rifles pointed at him, that was doubtful.

  Nathan headed toward Grigg, but Arnold yanked him back as someone else got Grigg down from the wagon and confiscated his weapons. “We have his confession. The charges now include murder.”

  That bleedin’ well didn’t help. “Just give me five minutes alone with him,” Nathan asked.

  But Arnold knew him by now. “Out of the question. I can’t hang a dead man.”

  “One minute, just one.”

  It took a moment, but Arnold nodded reluctantly, saying, “But not a second longer.”

  Grigg put up his fists when he realized what was about to happen. But he wasn’t a fighter. His style was to shoot someone in the back, send his men to do it, or fight dirty. He tried dirty, drawing a concealed knife while he was bent over from Nathan’s first punch. But whatever had hold of Nathan, it didn’t include caution. He lunged for the knife the moment he saw it, grabbed it, and tossed it aside. Grigg’s attempts were pathetic after that. Nathan even allowed one of Grigg’s wild swings to land, just to make the fight feel fair for himself, but it wasn’t. He got no satisfaction in beating the man unconscious, not when the first blow to his face knocked him out. It didn’t even take a minute.

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Judith and Jack got to ride alone to the ball in one coach, their parents following in the other. Jack’s armed escort—all four of them—was with the girls, though, and had been with Jack ever since they’d returned to London. Although the men dressed in livery, they were too big and brawny to look like servants. James had insisted on the guards, and they were going to remain with his daughter indefinitely. Judith thought that could be why Jack’s moods were far from sterling. She wouldn’t like being hemmed in.

  She glanced at Jack, who was staring out the window. They both sparkled tonight. Jack’s gown was dark pink silk, but a layer of white chiffon over it created an appropriate pastel color. Even her jewelry was pink, rose quartz mixed with diamonds.

  Judith’s gown was new, ordered the day after they got home, even though she already had a half dozen others she hadn’t yet worn. But she didn’t object when shopping calmed her mother, and Roslynn had needed calming after learning what had happened. The new gown was Judith’s favorite color, pale blue. Half of her wardrobe was that color. But she’d boldly picked a much darker blue for the edges, a mere inch. Roslynn didn’t complain when she saw how the color matched Judith’s eyes. And of course Roslynn had seen to buying Judith more jewelry immediately, too. So her gown was complemented by sapphires tonight.

  “You look magnificent tonight, Jack. I wish I could wear pink like you, but Mother thinks it makes me look wan—are you listening?”

  “What?”

  Judith sighed. “I wish you’d tell me what’s wrong. You’re either distracted or snapping at me over something—more often snapping. If your eyes were red, too, I’d think you’re going through what I went through with Nathan. You aren’t, are you?”

  Jack snorted. “Believe me, when I fall in love I’ll know it. And you’ll know it. Everyone will, because I’ll drag him straight to the altar, kicking and screaming if I have to—well, my father will see to that.”

  Judith couldn’t help chuckling over the image that created. “Very well. I was just worried you might have gotten overly attached to Quintin.”

  “I might have, if we’d had more time together, but no. Bastard cut that short.”

  Jack was still calling her abductor by that name, and she usually got angry every time he was mentioned. Not just snappish, but really angry. But Jack’s tone had been even just then, so Judith wasn’t going to press it, when anger was the last thing Jack should be taking to a ball.

  Instead Judith said, “And any of these new lords who’ve been courting you since we got back?”

  “Not yet, but we’re in no hurry, remember?”

  How could she forget that? They weren’t supposed to fall in love anytime soon, either, but so much for well-laid plans. So she took another guess, nodding toward the roof of the coach where the escort was riding. “You hate these precautions, don’t you?”

  “My guards? No, actually, they’re nice enough chaps.”

  Judith was running out of ideas, so she tried her mother’s tactic. “Jacqueline Malory, you’re going to tell me right now what’s been bothering you. I insist!”

  Jack snorted again. Judith was encouraged. Jack’s snorting was normal. “I don’t like being so helpless, as I was during—it’s made me hate being a woman!”

  Judith was taken aback. She would never have guessed that could be the problem, and yet she should have. Jack was always so in control, always in the lead, always sure of herself and her capabilities. To have lost that control, even for a little while, would have hit her hard.

  But Judith replied pragmatically, “Nonsense. D’you think a man really would have fared better? A man would merely have been knocked out and dragged off, instead of being carried off. And he would have been bound before he woke. Truly, Jack, men can be rendered just as helpless in such a situation. But—is that really all that’s been bothering you?”

  Jack wrung her hands in indecision, then admitted, “No.”

  “Then what?”

  “I didn’t tell my father everything.” When Judith’s eyes rounded, Jack added, “No, nothing like that. But there was another note, the original one penned by Bastard’s boss. When I found it, I accused Bastard of not leaving any note at all, so my father would have no idea what happened to me. I could have killed him that day. Actually, I tried to. But he assured me that Catherine had sent a more polite version of the original one.”

  Eyes still round, Judith said, “A polite kidnapper? Are you serious?”

  Jack actually grinned for a moment. “I had that exact thought at the time, you know.” But then she wrung her hands again. “I was afraid that if I told my father about it, it would stir an old memory for him, and he’d know exactly whose idea it was to abduct me and where to go to find him. The original note from Bastard’s boss implied he would. And I don’t want my father to go after him, at least not when they are expecting him to. I couldn’t bear it if my words led him into a trap.”

  “Don’t you think you should let your father decide the matter?”

  “I’ll tell him, after enough time has passed for his anger to wane a bit so that he doesn’t hie off and get himself killed.”

  “But it’s been weeks since we got home.”

  “I know, and maybe Bastard has warned his boss to change the location of his lair and this can all just be forgotten.”

  “Is that who you’re trying to protect?” Judith asked carefully.

  “Gads, no, he should be drawn and quartered!” Jack spat out.

  Judith sighed. “It’s your choice, Jack. I just hope this decision doesn’t come back to haunt you someday.”

  “You can’t imagine how much I’ve been agonizing over this. The indecision was making me furious with myself. But I’ve never been so afraid for my father before. They were going to control him through me! Kill him because of me! I am going to tell him, whether it helps or not, but after the Season is over. Besides, by then he’ll probably have more information. Uncle Clinton assured him that all the Skylark captains who pass down that way will keep an eye out for Catherine, Andrew, and Bastard. Something is sure to come of that.”

  Judith didn’t usually disagree with Jack but she tsked now, “I hesitate to say it, but I think you should simply have more faith in your father. As long as he doesn’t have the rescue of loved ones to contend with, he won’t be restrained. And you know how that works out.”

  Jack grinned, then laughed. “Yes, I know. I’m just making sure it does happen that way, by letting enough time pass so whoever did this won’t be expecting him. That’s all, Judy. I just want my father to have a better fi
ghting chance. And I did consider how torn up he’d be if he missed my Season just to wrap this up.”

  That was sound reasoning, so Judith said no more on the subject. And Jack obviously felt better for having made a clean breast of it. She was still smiling when they arrived at the ball.

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Lady Spencer’s ball wasn’t the first of the Season. They’d missed that one due to their detour to the Caribbean, which had delayed their return to London by a week. It wasn’t the second ball, either, but at least they’d managed to attend that one, with a mere one day’s notice, which was why Judith had so many suitors already. But she’d hoped she might actually enjoy this third ball. Nasty thing, hope, when it didn’t stand a chance in hell . . .

  Jack’s suitors converged on her immediately, but then Georgina had held James back when they arrived, so the young bucks hadn’t yet noticed that Jack’s father was in attendance. Georgina had insisted on taking this precaution. Because James was such a social recluse, rumors about him of the dastardly sort had always abounded and were still whispered to this day. He simply never gave the ton a chance to get to know him and never would. Georgina had had to hold him back at their first ball, too, so Jack would at least be able to meet a few young men before he was noticed. James was actually amused by his wife’s ploy.

  Judith didn’t face the same challenge on entering the ballroom with her parents. The only rumors that had ever circulated about her father concerned his having been a notorious rake and having had his share of duels because of it, most of which were long forgotten. It was still well-known that he was a master in the ring, but what young buck didn’t know that when they had all at one time or another visited Knighton’s Hall to witness firsthand his renowned skill.