Romney Marsh Trilogy: A Gentleman by Any Other Name / The Dangerous Debutante / Beware of Virtuous Women

Courtland bowed his head to his brother, grudgingly conceding the point. “Whatever the case, according to the lieutenant, this gang seems to be popping up everywhere up and down the coast all at the same time, more than twenty miles each direction, which is barely credible.”

“I don’t claim to be too familiar with the residents of this area,” Chance said, “but I think we can be fairly sure that the leaders of the various small gangs would have several reasons not to share their power or mingle their hauls.”

“Very true, Chance. There can be only one real leader to make the decisions. They’d be fighting among themselves before long, unable to agree who should be in charge,” Ainsley said, leaning forward in his chair to rest his elbows on the desktop.

“Tearing each other apart like dogs the moment a single discrepancy showed up in the size of the loads,” Courtland agreed, nodding his head. “Good men, for the most part, but definitely leery of strangers, and we all know that around here a stranger is anyone not from your own village.”

“Then we’re agreed that we’re dealing with a large, well-controlled, strongly led and generously financed organization. Someone in London has to be in charge overall, possibly a cartel formed of both businessmen and the men who do the real work. Yes, even members of the ton, who wouldn’t get their own hands dirty but who forward the money to bring goods across the Channel, then reap the lion’s share of the rewards back in London when those goods sell for five or ten times their worth. Well-financed, well-organized, well-armed. Ruthless enough to set a few examples, like Pike, so that all the local gangs knuckle under and join them.”

“You’ve really put considerable thought into this, haven’t you?” Chance asked. “I agree they’re ruthless. Killing Pike and the men with him—and now that boy I found on the Marsh—all to send the message that they’re in charge. Have there been any other deaths?”

Ainsley nodded. “A few, Court tells me, but even a few is too many. There hasn’t been so much bloodletting between gangs since the days of the Deal Boatmen. And the Hawkhurst Gang, of course. The legends might live on, but the worst gangs have been gone for more than fifty years, with the gangs working each in their own territory. There are rules—unwritten yes, but rules. The centuries have taught that everyone can coexist along the English coasts unless any one gang attempts to become too powerful.”

“Which has become more and more the case over the past few months, according to Diamond,” Courtland said as he got to his feet, began to pace.

Ainsley rhythmically rapped his fingers against the desktop, a sure sign that his mind was fully engaged. “Starting with Pike’s senseless murder and this attempt to take over the local smugglers, frighten them to either disband and starve or work for the Red Men Gang for a pittance. It’s all so familiar, boys, isn’t it? Places change, the times change, but not much else. Certainly not people.”

“And now we’ve stirred the pot by inflicting a few casualties on the other side,” Chance pointed out, “thanks to the Black Ghost taking his revenge. We disposed of the bodies, but the good lieutenant is bound to hear about last night’s adventure before long. Pity I don’t think he’s the sort who’d take a bribe to look the other way.”

Courtland whirled on his brother. “What would you have had me do? It was only through Pike’s widow that I could even find out how to contact the smugglers, let alone convince them I only wanted to guard them, not take a slice of their pie. And I needed a disguise, so not to bring holy hell down on us here at Becket Hall—”

“Ah, yes. The cape. Very impressive.”

“Yes, damn it, Chance, it is, and I needed to make an impression. I wanted my revenge for Pike. We all did. We’ve lived here without incident for a long time, and a man like Pike should have died in his bed, not be brutally murdered. These are our people, they’ve accepted us without questions, and we have a duty to keep them safe. I just didn’t think we’d end up riding out again and again.”

Chance hazarded a look at Ainsley, who was now sitting back once more, his hands steepled just beneath his chin. Chance wasn’t sure if the man was amused, contemplating mayhem or simply content to listen. “But you didn’t tell Ainsley. If you were so sure what you were doing was right, Court, why didn’t you tell him?”

“We’ve already been over that ground, Court and I,” Ainsley said calmly. “The matter is settled between us.”

Chance got to his feet. “So I’m no longer included in the family? Is that it? I was good enough to ride out with him last night.”

Courtland turned on his brother. “You can’t stand it that I’m in charge now, can you?”

“On the contrary, brother mine,” Chance said, looking straight into Courtland’s eyes. “I can’t stand that you made such a bloody mess of things.”

Courtland took a step in his brother’s direction. “At least I didn’t cut and run, turn my back like some judgmental bastard. You probably would have let Pike go un-avenged. All we’ve seen is the back of you for most of the past thirteen years. What makes you think you can simply stroll back here and take over?”

Chance felt his hands tighten into fists and purposefully relaxed his fingers. “Nothing,” he said, mastering his anger, refusing to contemplate whether Courtland was calling him disinterested, a coward or both. “Nothing makes me think I can come back here and take over. You’re a man grown now, Court, and you stayed. I may not agree wholeheartedly with what you’ve done with this Black Ghost thing, but I’m here now and I want to help.”

Courtland looked at the hand Chance extended to him. “Help, not lead.”

“Don’t push, Court,” Chance said with a smile, but the warning was in his tone. “I give my word.”

“Then we’ll shake on it,” the younger man said, grabbing Chance’s hand. “I don’t usually nearly come to blows twice in one day and with the same person. I apologize.”

“As does Chance,” Ainsley said from his seat behind the desk. “And now, before this old man begins blubbering at all this affecting sentiment being bandied about, Court, I believe Jacko has some ideas about how to better organize the men. He’s at the Last Voyage, as usual. Go humor him, please.”

Chance could see that Courtland wanted to decline but that his brother also understood that Ainsley’s mild tone contained an order not to be disobeyed.

Once Courtland had bowed and left the study, Chance turned to Ainsley. “Even with that ridiculous beard, I keep forgetting he’s no longer a boy. He’s grown a temper as well as found his tongue, hasn’t he?”

“I’d say his fuse is about the same length as yours. And we all make mistakes. That’s how we learn. Sit down, Chance.”

“You want to ask about my fiancée, I imagine. I just gave her a ring to seal our engagement.” Chance returned to the couch, feeling not a single qualm about lying to Ainsley concerning his supposed plans to marry Julia.

“No, I don’t wish to meddle in your private affairs, Chance. Except, of course, for how they might affect the rest of us.”

“Everything is fine on that head. Besides, along with Alice still in Julia’s charge, Elly has agreed to also keep her occupied with plans for the nuptials. Embroidering pillowcases and whatever other nonsense women believe necessary. And once things are settled here, I’ll take Julia back to London. I see no more trouble, nothing for Jacko or anyone else to fret about anymore.”

Ainsley lifted one well-defined black eyebrow. “Really? I have met the woman, you know, spoken with her. You and I haven’t been together for any length in some time, Chance. Do you regularly delude yourself now?”

Chance threw back his head and laughed, then quickly sobered. “All right, I’ll be honest with you. I’m thinking I may have to tie her to the bedpost to keep her nose out of our business, actually. It seems she grew up on stories of the Hawkhurst Gang and smuggling in general. Her vicar father either rode with the local smugglers before his death or, at the least, allowed them to use his church as a hidey-hole. No matter what, Julia is very much in sympathy with the smugglers.”

Ainsley looked at him, just looked at him. And waited.

“You want me to say it all, don’t you? Very well,” Chance said, knowing no one had ever won a staring match with Geoffrey Baskin; a change of name and the passage of more than a dozen years hadn’t seemed to change that.

“I want to know if you understand, that’s all.”

“Oh, I understand. She sees too much and she asks too many questions. Billy knows that because he was there with us on the Marsh when we stumbled over the boys, and what Billy knows, Jacko knows, along with God only knows how many others at the Last Voyage. And we both know how superstitious those two are about women, no matter that we aren’t aboard ship anymore.”

“Billy still walks as if he is, and Jacko has a sad past when it comes to women, so we’ll excuse him.”

“A sad past, is it? I heard it was a case of the pox with one and a bash over the head and a stolen purse with another.”

“There’s also the one in Santiago he found in bed with another woman—and if you ever repeat that, we’re both as good as dead men,” Ainsley said, getting to his feet, still straight and slim, handsome as well as impressive in his unremitting black. “I’ve spoken with Odette.”

Chance smiled wryly, happy to be back on such close footing with the captain. “Yes, so have I. According to Odette, Julia will follow wherever I go and never betray me, so I suppose I should relax.”

“She also said that Isabella and I would live to see our many children and grandchildren,” Ainsley said as he rubbed at the back of his neck.

There was shared pain in the small silence that followed Ainsley’s words.

“You’re worried I might go all soft on her. Let my heart rule my head. Don’t be. I’ll watch her,” Chance promised quietly at last, keeping his tone neutral.

“No, you’ll take Billy and get on with your business, and we’ll watch her. The moon’s still right for another run tonight and Court will handle that, our crew guarding the men as they land and until the goods are safely concealed before they can be moved inland.”

“They can’t use the crude hidey-hole I saw last night. The Red Men Gang will certainly be watching for them there.”

“Agreed, and we don’t want another fight—yet. It’s unfortunate, but we see no other avenue at this late date but to hide the goods in the village.”

Chance put a hand to his head and began rubbing at his forehead, wishing he didn’t have to ask the question. “Landing where?”

“On the sands, as they’ve done before. Nearly under my nose, which shows how senile I’ve grown. There have been mistakes made, Chance, and they will be remedied. But for tonight we’ve got no choice. Only two dozen small boats land at midnight, carrying silk, coffee, gin and brandy, rowing across the Channel, if that tells you how desperate these men are and why the goods won’t be moved again until tomorrow night. They’ll arrive exhausted.”

“The sands aren’t a good idea.”

“Why? Because Court picked the area, not you? Everyone knows the sands are treacherous to anyone unfamiliar with them, so I don’t expect any problems from the dragoons.”

“Is that so?” Chance reached into his pocket and pulled out the brass button, tossed it to Ainsley. “I found this an hour ago in the tall reeds and grass not six feet from the path leading from the sands. From the shine still on it, it hadn’t been there long.”

“Sweet Christ and all the little fishes, as Jacko would say.” Ainsley pocketed the button. “This is my fault, Chance. I haven’t been paying attention. I’ve let them all grow up wild and headstrong.”

“You taught me. You, Jacko, Billy,” Chance reminded him. “It’s not too late for the others.”

“No, it’s not. But it could have been. Court is learning and doing well on his own, if not brilliantly, but there’s still Spence and Rian to consider.” Ainsley smiled ruefully as he stood up, came out from behind the desk. “You know, I think I rather fancy the idea of a cape and mask. That touch of drama and mystery.”

“Oh, no. You’re considering riding out as the Black Ghost? Don’t you think you’re past such adventures, old man?”

“I’ll ignore that insult,” Ainsley said. “I can plan here,” he said, leaning over the table of maps and charts. “A leader leads, Chance, and teaches by example. You said that. We both know that.”

Chance gave in to the excitement of the moment, his memories of following wherever Captain Geoffrey Baskin went, drinking in all he could learn, dancing in his brain. “Exactly so. And why should you have all the fun? Don’t bother to deny it, you’ve got your blood up, Cap’n, and you’re enjoying yourself. I remember that look. I sailed at your side for over eight years and I’m riding with you tonight.”

“From boy to young man, and I’ve missed you. But, no, you’re not riding tonight. I need you to find out more about these Red Men so that we can deal with them where they are before we bring the attentions of the Preventative Waterguard and the dragoons too close to Becket Hall.”

Chance smiled. “Yes, I thought the same thing earlier. A wise bird never soils its own nest.”

“Exactly as I explained to Court an hour ago. We never struck anywhere near the island. But enough of that. I’ve already told Billy to have the Respite ready for you in an hour, and that was thirty minutes ago. Go say your farewells to the inquisitive Miss Carruthers and be back here by the end of the week. Oh, and for God’s sake, don’t warn her to stay away from the windows tonight, because—”

“Because that would only ensure that she’d find a spyglass somewhere and keep watch until dawn. Yes, I know. I’ll see you Friday. Try not to get shot or captured, if you don’t mind. I do have my position at the War Office to consider—along with the length of my neck, which I like as it is, thank you. Are you sure you’ll be all right? It’s been a long time since you’ve been out on a run.”

“Cornwall, when I was younger than Cassandra is now. I do recall my own incautious youth, as well as remembering why my brother and I found it necessary to leave there and travel to the islands. And I won’t be out on a run, Chance, but merely waiting here on dry land. When I left the sea, I vowed never to go back, remember? That includes jaunts across the Channel. I told you, Court has held the Black Ghost’s involvement to the shore and inland, thank God.”

“Speaking of Court, does my little brother know you’re taking command?”

Ainsley’s eyes shone in real amusement. “Why do you think he was so ready to punch something?”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHANCE LEFT THE STUDY, smiling, losing that smile when he remembered that he had to say goodbye to Julia before getting on with his business. Business that might be dangerous on some level but that had his blood running—although a smart man wouldn’t let Miss Julia Carruthers so much as think she’d glimpsed a hint of that excitement.

He passed Morgan on the stairs, and she stopped him to ask, “What’s going on? Court looks like a thundercloud, and when I asked if he’s going out tonight he all but stripped off my hide and fed it to me.”

“Good, that will save me the bother,” Chance said, chucking her beneath her chin, believing he’d found the perfect fib to keep the girl out of trouble. “But I will give you a word of warning, dear sister. Ainsley knows.”

Morgan’s face went deathly pale. “Papa…he knows? He knows I sneaked out and rode with Court a time or two? Who told him? You tell me, Chance—which one of you tattled? It was you, wasn’t it?”

“Who tells Ainsley anything? We all know he has ears everywhere,” Chance said, winking. “I also know, were I you, I’d be on my best behavior for the next few weeks.”

Morgan seemed to regain some of her bravado. “He won’t do anything. Besides, Papa doesn’t pay attention.”

Chance patted her cheek. “Things change, Morgan. He’s paying attention now.”

She made a face at him before saying, “I don’t really remember the island much at all, you know? Court said I don’t need to either, that I should just remember being Morgan Becket of Romney Marsh. Was Papa really—”

“Oh, yes, he was, and the very best of them, too. You might want to think twice before getting on his bad side.”

“Now you’re just trying to frighten me.”

“I know. Is it working?” Chance asked, grinning.

“I think so, yes. Does he really know what I’ve done? I mean, really? You told him? It had to be you.”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure he won’t call you on the carpet. Just spend some time letting Elly teach you how to embroider or something.”

“I’d rather die the death of a thousand cuts,” Morgan said sincerely. “I read about that, you know. There’s this method of torture, you see, and they—”

Chance raised his hand to silence her before he was gifted with all the gory details. “Thank God you aren’t the oldest or you’d have trained the rest of the girls up to be hellions just like you. When I go back to London, I want to arrange for you to come up for the season next spring. We’ve got to marry you off, definitely. Let you become someone else’s headache.”

“Wretch. But I’ll be eighteen by then, won’t I? Maybe a year will help, and I’ll be civilized by then. Elly says she doesn’t think London is ready for me yet,” Morgan said not at all unhappily.

“And I agree with her. But I’ve some penance owing here, so I might as well start with getting you out of the way.”

Morgan kissed him on the cheek. “I know you love me, so I’ll let your insults pass. And I think I might enjoy London, riding in the park and all of that, as long as I can come back here once the season is over.”

“You might find Becket Hall dull after London. Now do I have your promise you’ll keep your nose out of the Black Ghost’s business? Morgan? A season in Mayfair hobnobbing with all the handsome young lords hangs in the balance. Answer me.”

“Oh, all right, I promise. But they’re landing on the sands and will come along the beach to the village, so I’ll see everything anyway. I’ll just stay on the terrace, all hidden behind the balustrades, and watch.”

Chance looked at her closely. “And how would you know that? Have you taken to listening at keyholes now?”

“No, I’d never do that,” she said happily. “I just happened to see Court talking to Jacob as he was cleaning the grate in Elly’s bedchamber and I traded a kiss for what he knew.”

“Of all things wonderful. My sister has grown into a manipulating minx. You could get yourself in trouble, you know, toying with a man’s affections.”

“Pooh! Jacob’s no more than a boy.”

“As I remember it, Jacob is Spencer’s age, a good several years your senior. Hardly a boy.”

“He is to me. Besides, I wouldn’t have done it if you or Court ever told me what’s happening, so if you’re placing blame, place it on yourself,” she said, seeming not the least insulted. “I only do what I have to do because you men think women are too delicate to know anything. But don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone I saw you leaving Julia’s bedchamber late last night, and you won’t tell anybody that I know what I know. And I will stay on the terrace.”

Believing that was as close as he was going to come to having Morgan obey him and already wishing he didn’t know so much about his enterprising sister—or she about him—Chance headed once more for Julia’s bedchamber.

He was going to keep Billy waiting and would probably have to simply hope that Billy had folded his clothing and not merely stuffed them in a traveling case.

There also was no time to personally check and make sure Billy had remembered to pack such superfluous things as hose and several sets of fresh underclothes—Billy never having quite grasped the idea of changing his own underclothes with any regularity. Still, thank God he’d decided to leave Oswald behind in Upper Brook Street rather than have the valet poking his long nose around Becket Hall.

Chance stopped in front of the door to Julia’s bedchamber, took a few slow breaths and then knocked.

Moments later Julia answered that knock, opening the door only slightly to peer out at him with one eye. One hour, she thought. Less than one hour after making their pact and already he was breaking the rules. That was rather nice—not that she’d let him know she felt that way. “I believe we’d agreed that you would not—”

“I’m here to say goodbye,” Chance said, then smiled as Julia stepped back, opened the door for him.

She instantly understood and was immediately worried for him, drat the man. “You’re going to Dover Castle?”

“And several places in between, yes. To perform the duties to which I have been assigned.”

Julia rolled her eyes, then walked over to the window, feeling the need for some space between them. “Oh, please, don’t ask me to swallow that crammer. You’re off to see what the Preventative Waterguard knows about the Black Ghost. And don’t pull a face at me, because it’s you who is insulting me, not the other way round. What if someone finds you out, what then? Lieutenant Diamond didn’t appear particularly stupid, except perhaps when he looked at Morgan.”

Chance rubbed at his forehead. “I don’t know why men plan wars. You females seem to have more talent for the finer points of the thing.”

Julia would have laughed except for the fact that she was not amused. Rubbing her hands together so that she wouldn’t be tempted to walk over to him, touch a hand to his cheek, she asked, “How long will you be away?”

“Ah,” Chance said, closing the distance between them, “the lady will be lonely without me.”

“Devastatingly so, yes. Just as I would miss any headache. Please answer the question. Did you know about this when you forced that ring on me? Am I supposed to wear it to protect myself from your family, keep them reminded that I’m…that I’m your property?”

“I didn’t know I was leaving so soon but, yes, that was the general idea, and you knew it. But not the family. Jacko. Nobody likes to worry an old man, especially one who doesn’t much trust women and who is built like a bull, with the temper to match. Now kiss me goodbye like a good fiancée, because the Respite is nearly ready to sail.”

“You’re going up the coast by boat?” Julia asked, if only to delay the inevitable: Chance kissing her, she unable to help kissing him back, the rotter. She’d barely been able to think of anything else but Chance, the way he’d made her body respond to his touch, and it had been impossible to convince herself that she could fool him into thinking she didn’t hope for his attentions again. And again. For as long as he wanted her…even if he didn’t really want her.

Chance frowned, as Julia had seemed to ask the question while not interested in the answer but was much more interested in simply looking at him. And a flush was making its way into her cheeks. His reaction to her, he realized, was lower than that and would soon become obvious. He had to leave—now.

“I haven’t been on the water for a long time. Besides, I’ll travel faster this way.” He put his hands on her waist, drew her closer. “I won’t be away from you a moment longer than necessary, I promise. I want to see you wearing my ring.”

She lowered her head. “There’s nobody here to listen, so you can stop that now.”

“I must flatter you more often, as you respond so winningly.” Chance laughed and tipped up her chin so she had no choice but to look at him again, because he very much liked the way she looked at him. But she immediately closed her eyes. Stubborn woman! “Julia, look at me. Where’s the ring? Why aren’t you wearing it?”

Julia stepped away from him and reached into her pocket to pull out the ring, show it to him. “It’s too large, so I wrapped a ribbon around it until it fit, but now it’s uncomfortable.”

Chance took the thing and looked at it, then handed it back to her. “That’s quite a bit of ribbon, isn’t it? While I’m gone, have Morgan take you to see Waylon. He’ll trim the thing down to fit you.”