A Notorious Love Page 24

  His voice blew like a frigid wind, as if the pain were so great that he could only speak of it in that cold, dead tone. It made her heart ache to realize how much he had suffered. “It was his fault that your mother was hanged?”

  “Partly. She rode with him the night they were captured, y’see. But it wasn’t his fault she was caught. I had an uncle with a part in that.”

  “An uncle?”

  “My mother’s brother. He’s the one who betrayed my parents to the soldiers. I didn’t even know about it until a few years ago, when I went searching for information about my family. After I heard what my uncle did, I wanted to track him down and kill him with my bare hands.” Hot fury flashed in his face, reminding her for a moment of the murderous rage he’d shown toward Mr. Wallace.

  Suddenly it faded, and he sighed. “But he’d drowned himself shortly after my parents were hanged. I s’pose he couldn’t live with what he’d done.”

  “Oh, Danny,” she whispered, unable to keep the pity from her voice.

  He glanced up and stiffened. “That’s my family in a nutshell. Quite a band of rogues, wouldn’t you say?”

  She fumbled for an answer that would soothe his injured pride. “Well, you’ve beaten me, but not by much.”

  “What d’you mean?” he asked warily.

  “I have a scoundrel father, too, remember? I don’t have any scoundrel uncles, however, so your scoundrel relatives outnumber mine, two to one.”

  He stared at her a long moment. Then a faint smile touched his lips. “If you count my mother, it’s three to one. But mine are all dead, and yours is still alive making trouble. I’d think one live relative beats out any number of dead ones.”

  “Probably.” She shook her head and smiled sadly. “Oh, Danny, think of our poor children. We might as well hand them pistols and teach them deceit from birth, since their bloodlines will surely send them in that direction.”

  He leaned forward, his eyes warming. “You give me hope, love, by speaking of children. Though I do want a better life for any child of mine. Let’s pray they take after you and your mother.”

  “I wouldn’t mind so much if they took after you,” she said shyly. “At least a little.”

  He chuckled. “So you don’t think I’m such a devil after all, do you?”

  “I didn’t say that,” she teased. “But every child should have a bit of the devil in him.”

  Catching her by surprise, he rose up on his knees to snatch her sketch pad, then toss it aside. “This particular devil is thinking he ought to live up to his image. Especially with a lass like you tempting him to devilment.” The blanket fell to reveal his “pego,” which seemed to thicken before her very eyes.

  Her mouth went dry and desire pooled between her legs, despite the faint soreness there. “I have not yet accepted your proposal of marriage, remember?” she said, a warning both for herself and him.

  It did not deter him in the least from sliding her pelisse off her shoulders. “Ah, but you will, love. You will.”

  Young Seth glanced out the window of his house. At last: the light was out in the barn. He slipped out and crossed to the barn door. Opening it soundlessly, he paused to listen, but could hear nothing except snoring. Although it was pitch dark inside, he figured he could find the horse by the sounds of its nickering and shifting in the stall.

  For a moment, he reconsidered his plan. Mr. Brennan was a giant, he was, and could beat him senseless if he chose. Still, Mrs. Brennan was a nice lady, and he felt sure she wouldn’t let the giant beat him. Besides, he was only borrowing their horse, not stealing it, and he’d have it back long before morn. They’d never even know he took it.

  And when would he have a chance like this again—silver in his pocket and his parents gone? A horse standing at the ready? It was perfect! Once Meg saw him swagger like a man into her parents’ taproom, order his own ale, and pay for it with his own blunt, she’d see at once that he wasn’t the mere boy she took him for. She wouldn’t be so quick to laugh at him the next time he tried to kiss her behind the inn.

  He moved with utter stealth, grabbing the saddle and leading the mare from the barn, then closing the door an inch at a time behind them. As soon as he’d saddled the horse and was on the road to Sedlescombe, his mind filled with thoughts of lovely Meg’s red mouth. The moon was bright enough to see by, so he scarcely had to guide the horse along the tiny road from the farm.

  He felt a twinge of guilt when he reached the main road to Sedlescombe and thought of his parents. His mother, who’d recently joined the Wesleyans, would certainly disapprove of him spending good silver to drink at the taproom when it could be better spent on the farm. Still, he hadn’t taken all the money—just enough to impress Meg and have a drink or two. The rest was for his parents, who’d never know how much Mr. Brennan had given him anyway. He forgot his guilt as dreams of kissing sweet Meg resurfaced.

  He was nearing the bridge over the Brede River into Sedlescombe when two hulking shapes appeared as if from nowhere, and a voice called out, “Stand to!”

  Terror splintered his soft thoughts. Highwaymen? And so close to Sedlescombe? He’d heard tales of highwaymen from Father, but none from recent years and certainly none brave enough to attack within shouting distance of town. He jerked the horse around, meaning to flee, but a loud whistle pierced the night, freezing the horse so that it refused to budge no matter how much he urged it.

  Rough hands pulled him off and pinned his arms behind his back. One of the black shapes in front of him lit a lantern, then shoved it up to his face. Beyond the lantern, he could make out only glittering eyes and a sullen mouth.

  “Who are you, boy?” the sullen mouth demanded. “And where’d you get this horse?”

  “I…I…”

  “Speak up!” the man growled, and gestured beyond him to Seth’s captor, who twisted his arm hard behind his back and made him cry out. “This is my horse you’ve stolen—”

  “I didn’t steal it! It was them what stole it!” he burst out, then cursed his quick tongue when a calculating smile twisted the man’s lips.

  “Them? A big man and a crippled woman? Is that who you took it from?”

  “I-I didn’t take it from them. I just…borrowed it. I swear!”

  “And where are they now?” the man asked.

  He swallowed. The last thing he wanted was to lead this mean bastard to his house, but he didn’t want to be beaten for borrowing a horse, neither. Or worse yet, taken to the gallows. Though he’d never have guessed the Brennans were thieves, he did remember how Mr. Brennan had been opening the door to the house when Seth had happened upon them. He wasn’t about to pay for their crimes.

  “I didn’t know they stole it, or I would never have let them stay in our barn.”

  “Are they still in your barn?” the man demanded.

  He hesitated, then nodded. “They’re sleepin’.”

  “Do they know you’re out with the horse?”

  “No. I…I didn’t mean to stay out long.” He prayed that the man and his companions didn’t find the silver in his pockets. That was probably stolen as well, but no matter who the blunt had belonged to before, it was his now.

  “Tell me where they are, where your barn is.”

  Seth explained how to find the road to the farm.

  The lantern was suddenly snuffed, and the man holding it spoke to someone lurking in the shadows to Seth’s right. “You heard that. Now go tell Crouch’s man Seward we’ve found them, and bring him back here. He says he won’t pay unless he sees Danny Brennan in the flesh. Go on, and be quick about it.”

  Shame engulfed Seth. He’d heard the name Crouch before; this was not about stealing a horse, to be sure. This was some other dark work, having to do with the smugglers. And damnation if he hadn’t just turned over his hapless guests to them.

  Chapter 17

  When I was awakened between six and seven

  The guards were all around me in numbers odd and even.

  “Whiskey
in the Jar,”

  anonymous Irish ballad

  In his dream, Daniel was in the workhouse again, scrabbling with the others for a spoonful of extra porridge. One of the older boys kicked him down, then stood on his chest, poking him in the neck with a fork. “Go ’way,” Daniel mumbled and pushed against the fork. His hand met a blade of cold steel. That brought him abruptly awake to find a sword pressed to his neck.

  Fighting off the fog of sleep, he blinked his eyes and lifted them to the man holding the sword. Wallace, with his foot planted firmly on Daniel’s chest. Bloody hell. So much for putting the fear of God into the son of a bitch. And how had he found them so quickly? Judging from the dim light in the stall, it was barely dawn.

  Wallace looked damned pleased with himself as he dug his heel into Daniel’s chest. “How does it feel to have the boot on the other foot, Danny Boy? Or shall we say, on the other chest?”

  Daniel felt a stirring next to him and remembered with horror that Helena was with him. Though he couldn’t turn his head to look at her, he could see out of the corner of his eye that her naked body still lay covered by the blanket. Thank God.

  “Take me if you want, Wallace, but leave my wife be. She’s got naught to do with this.”

  “Danny?” Helena shot up next to him, clutching the blanket to her chest. “Mr. Wallace! Take that sword away! Don’t you dare hurt him!”

  “That’s enough, Wallace,” came a vaguely familiar voice from beyond the stall. “You’ve had your fun. Now take your money and be off with you—you and your scurvy lot.”

  Wallace hesitated before apparently deciding that money was far more useful than a petty revenge. But before he took his foot off Daniel’s chest, he dragged the blade along Daniel’s neck just hard enough to score it. Daniel ignored the bite of steel, the blood trickling down his throat, and as soon as Wallace backed out of the stall, he lunged for his pistol.

  His hand froze on it as the unmistakable sound of another pistol being cocked echoed in the barn.

  “I wouldn’t do that, Danny, if I were you,” came that familiar voice again, much nearer this time. “Move your hand away from the pistol. I shouldn’t like to shoot you.”

  With a heavy sigh, Daniel turned his head to stare up into the face of Jack Seward. Crouch’s oldest friend and cohort.

  Though Jack kept his pistol cocked and ready, he grinned down at Daniel without an ounce of hostility. “It’s been a long time, Danny Boy. You’re looking well.”

  “I’d be looking a lot better if you weren’t aiming that thing at me.”

  “Pass yours over, and I won’t have to shoot you, will I?”

  Anger mingled with a softer emotion in Daniel’s breast. Jack might be an aging rogue still in service to a scoundrel, but he’d also been a good friend once. Indeed, he’d been the person who’d most looked after Daniel all those years ago.

  “Listen, Jack,” Daniel said. “I don’t know what you’re about or why you’re in league with a whoreson like Wallace, but I know you’d never kill me.”

  “’Tis true, old friend.” Jack waved the pistol toward Daniel’s hand and smiled, though it was a sad sort of mirth. “And you wouldn’t use that on me, neither, would you?” When Daniel didn’t answer, he added, “Shove it over here, Danny Boy. I mightn’t have the heart to kill you, but I wouldn’t hesitate to shoot your hand off.”

  That much Daniel suspected was true. Nor did he need Helena’s anxious voice saying, “Daniel, please do as he says,” to convince him to comply.

  As soon as Jack had picked up the pistol, he uncocked his own and slid it into his overcoat pocket. “Sorry to frighten you, ma’am,” he told Helena. “The name’s Jack Seward. Me and Danny go back a long ways.”

  “My association with him is more recent,” she said evenly, “but I do appreciate your not shooting my husband.”

  Daniel noted with approval that she’d neglected to give her name. He might be able to negotiate her freedom if Crouch and his men didn’t know who she was. He wasn’t sure how much they knew about Griff’s new family. He wasn’t even sure if they realized why he and Helena were in Sussex in the first place.

  Sitting up, he slid his arm about her waist and played dumb. “What’s all this about, Jack? My wife and I come down here to do a bit of trading, minding our own business. Suddenly you chaps show up with pistols and swords. What d’you want with us? We’ve done naught to warrant it.”

  “Naught, eh? Then why was this in your pocket?” Jack pulled two objects from inside his coat and waved them at Daniel: the miniature of Juliet and the sketch of Pryce.

  Daniel groaned.

  “I may be getting gray, m’boy, but I ain’t stupid. It’s plain why you’re here. I’m just not sure how you learned of it. It was s’posed to be taken for an elopement by the girl’s family. And Crouch told Pryce to take great care you didn’t hear of it. Pryce was s’posed to send that ransom note direct to Knighton.”

  With a squeeze, Daniel cautioned Helena to silence. “All the same, I found out.”

  “So you planned to play the hero and get her back without paying, eh?” When Daniel said nothing, he chuckled. “Well, it’s too late for that. Get up, Danny Boy—you’re coming with us, both of you.”

  Daniel’s arm tightened about Helena’s waist. “There’s no need to drag my wife into this. You can leave her here.”

  “You know damned well I’m not leaving nobody to go running to Knighton telling him that Crouch is behind this. And if you hadn’t wanted her to be part of it, you shouldn’t have brought her.”

  Daniel groaned. Unfortunately, Jack was right. He should never have brought her, no matter how much she’d complained. But he’d thought it was an elopement, damn it!

  “You know we won’t hurt her,” Jack added. “We don’t hurt women.”

  “No, you only kidnap them,” Daniel snapped.

  Jack shrugged. “When there’s a great deal of money in it, yes. But I swear on my honor none of us will hurt you or your wife, m’boy. Not if you behave yourselves.” Jack gestured behind him. “Now come on, I ain’t got all day.”

  Helena clutched the blanket closer to her chest. “Please, would you be so good as to give us some privacy so we can dress?”

  Jack hesitated, glancing from her to Daniel, then scouring the stall as if looking for weapons. “I s’pose I can manage that,” he surprised Daniel by conceding. “But five minutes and no more, d’you hear?”

  “Thank you,” Helena said. “And if you’d kindly give us our clothes—”

  “Polite little thing, ain’t she?” Jack grumbled to Daniel. “All right, ma’am.” He motioned to someone behind him and the clothes were brought to him. He threw them inside. “Five minutes, remember.” Then he swung the stall door shut.

  The second it was closed, Daniel searched his trouser pockets for his penknife. Unsurprisingly, it had been removed. Scowling, he stood and jerked on his drawers and trousers.

  Helena stood up as well. “Danny?” When he glanced at her, she spotted the scratch on his neck. “Why, you’re bleeding!” She stepped up to him and used one corner of the sheet to dab at his neck. “That wretched Wallace. I wish I’d shot him while I had the chance.”

  Her vehemence amused him. “Or hit him hard enough to kill him. I’ll have to buy you a bigger cane.”

  “That’s not funny.” Her hand stilled on his neck, and she lowered her voice. “What do you think they’ll do with us?”

  “I don’t know,” he said truthfully. “Crouch won’t like it that I’m involved, though if he learns who you are…That’ll only make things worse, give him two Knighton relations to ransom. Let’s keep your identity secret, all right?”

  “But Pryce will recognize me,” she pointed out.

  He sighed. “I forgot about that. Still, there’s no point in tipping our hand any sooner than necessary, so let’s hide it as long as we can.”

  She nodded, but she couldn’t quite hide her fright, and something caught in his chest at the sight
of it. Cupping her face in his hands, he planted a swift kiss on her lips. “Don’t worry yourself, love. It’ll be all right, I swear. Somehow we’ll get out of this. We may just have to sit tight until Griff sends the ransom, though it plagues me to think of Crouch profiting from this treachery. Still, I don’t believe he or his men will hurt us as long as Griff pays what they ask.” Not if he had anything to say about it.

  “I believe you, Danny. I do trust you, you know.”

  The faith shining in her eyes made his chest hurt. He only wished he could be sure he warranted it.

  “Hurry up in there,” Jack called out.

  “Stubble it, Jack,” Daniel replied. “You damned near scared my wife to death, and I’m reassuring her that you won’t hurt her none.”

  “I already told you I wouldn’t,” Jack grumbled, though he made no move to come back in the stall.

  They dressed quickly. Picking up her sketch pad and pencil, Helena glanced at Daniel. “I don’t suppose they’ll let me take this.”

  “I imagine not.”

  With grim determination, she opened the pad and tore out the sketch of him, then folded it up and stuffed it into her pelisse pocket along with her pencil. When he chuck led, she stalked past him. “Don’t you be getting a swelled head. I merely hate to see some of my finest work lost.”

  “And here I was thinking you were starting to feel a certain affection for me, lass,” he teased.

  She paused at the stall door to cast him an earnest glance. “Oh, Danny, I am. Promise me you won’t do anything to get yourself killed.”

  Her concern warmed him, taking the edge off the chill of their capture. “You needn’t worry about me,” he said as he caught her to him. “I’ve got no inclination to be feeding the worms just yet.”

  He kissed her, not sure if he’d get the chance again anytime soon and needing to reassure her, to reassure himself, that all would be well. For a moment he forgot where they were, lost in Helena’s sweet mouth clinging to his with desperate urgency.

  “Time’s up,” Jack’s voice rang out over the stall door, and they broke apart.