Romney Marsh Trilogy: A Gentleman by Any Other Name / The Dangerous Debutante / Beware of Virtuous Women. Kasey Michaels
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driven the lesson home. “No. He’ll be less inclined to reckless acts after carrying his own dead brother. There are some weights a boy must live with if he’s to learn to be a man.”
Billy nodded. “Rodolfo. Right you are, sir. I’m just gettin’ old and soft.”
“And growing deaf, as well. I told you to get the boy and load the others.” Then he gave Billy a pat on the shoulder as the man shuffled off.
“Thank you, sir,” Julia said, totally confused by the exchange between Chance and Billy but knowing enough not to ask any of the many questions that had popped into her head. Such as, who was Rodolfo? And what so-sober memory did Billy and Chance share? So she merely watched, her heart aching for the boy, as Billy and a sobbing John picked up Georgie by his wrists and ankles and carried the body back along the road.
She’d seen dead bodies before, seen wounds before, but she was not nearly so calm as she pretended to be, because she’d always had her father by her side and in charge. Far easier to follow orders than to be responsible for giving them, responsible for the person needing her help.
“Dickie told me he and his brothers had gone to retrieve their small share of a larger run,” she told Chance, feeling the need to fill the silence between them, speaking quickly, probably saying too much. “No one was supposed to do that until the entire gang could assemble tomorrow night, meet up with the land carriers. But Georgie wouldn’t hear of that for some reason or other. These two men John spoke of must have spied them out and followed them. Now the entire haul may be lost, not just their portion of it, and the gang will be forced to find a new hiding place for freshly landed goods. A mess all around. Dickie and John had best be gone from the Marsh before anyone else knows what happened. His mam and any other family, as well.”
Chance cocked one eyebrow at her, rather amazed by her knowledge and her deductions, not to mention her cool head in the midst of this crisis. “Obviously you’ve been giving all of this some considerable consideration. You expect retribution from the boys’ compatriots?”
“Don’t you? Freebooting is a desperate business and demands total secrecy. Through their eagerness, Georgie and his brothers may have lost the entire proceeds of a smuggling run. Possibly tons of goods, all paid for and brought to shore, hidden. Considerable work and cost are involved, sir. Someone will be very unhappy and want revenge. Dickie made mention of a black ghost but then quickly begged me to forget I’d heard what I’d heard.”
“That would probably be wise. Excuse me,” Chance said tightly and went after John, who was now wringing his hands and crying yet again. He took the boy roughly by the elbow and steered him into the tall grass beside the narrow roadway. “Stop wailing like a little girl. Stand up straight and look at me. Your brother told the lady about a black ghost. Now you’re going to tell me.”
John’s eyes went wide. “Oh, no, sir. He did no such thing. None of us never would, sir. Dickie’s just hurtin’ bad, that’s all. He never said that.”
Chance ruthlessly squeezed the boy’s upper arm. “Dover Castle, boy. Ever see a body hanging in gibbet chains? The blacksmith comes and fits you for your very own set. Grown men have been known to keel over dead just seeing the smithy come at them with the measuring stick. And it all starts at Dover Castle. I know the way—you and your brother could be there by morning. Of course, with that hole in him and with no one to doctor him, he’ll be dead soon and you’ll probably hang alone. Crying and pissing your pants as they drag you to the rope, your mam there to watch.”
He gave the boy’s arm a shake. “Tell me.”
“We…we travel with him now, sir. The Black Ghost. Him and his men protect us from the others. From this side of Camber to Appledore and all the way to Dymchurch, sir. We’re almost all together now, with the Black Ghost watchin’ over us.”
“Is that so?” Chance did his best to control his breathing, his temper. “The others, John. And who are the others? The ones who came after you?”
“I can’t say, sir.” When Chance squeezed again, John rushed into speech. “I don’t know, sir, that’s what I mean. Hundreds of them, all together. From Lunnon-town, we think. We had to join together, too, or else lose everything. We’re the Black Ghost Gang now, sir. We can’t say it because nobody is to know but us. Never say Black Ghost, sir. Dickie never should have said that. But Georgie, he said we didn’t need to listen to nobody what won’t even show his own face and…oh, sir, what do I tell our mam? Georgie was her favorite of all of us.”
Remembering what Julia had said, Chance asked, “How many of you are there?”
Johnnie wiped his runny nose on the sleeve of his smock. “Twelve, sir. Da’s gone, drowned on a run these two years past, but there’s still twelve of us.” He half choked on a sob. “E-eleven, sir. And now they seen us. They know who we are. Now they can find us. We’re all going to be dead, like Georgie. Mam and Dickie and me, even the little ones. The Black Ghost can’t help us now. Maybe the Black Ghost will even want us all dead, too. We was told to stay away until tomorrow night and we didn’t listen. What should I do?”
“Christ,” Chance muttered, then pulled the boy roughly into his arms. He let John weep against his shoulder while he told himself this boy was nothing like he had been years ago, when he knew that wasn’t true. Desperate was desperate, no matter what the cause. Desperation was a taste, a smell, a fear you took to bed with you at night and woke with again in the morning.
“We really should be goin’ on, sir,” Billy said, grinning as he dug one booted foot into the stones. “I’ll take young Johnnie off your hands, now that you’re done teachin’ him a lesson and all.”
Chance disengaged himself from John’s clinging arms. “Maybe I’m getting old and soft myself, Billy.”
“Don’t worry, boy, it’ll all come back to you,” Billy whispered with a wink, then took John by the shoulders, handed him his own filthy handkerchief, called him a good boy and led him back to the second coach.
Chance looked toward the lead coach to see that Julia had been watching him, had seen him with the boy. Had probably overheard him as he’d spoken both to Johnnie and Billy. Without a word she turned, hiked up her skirts and climbed back into the coach.
Leaving Chance to stand in the moonlight, silently cursing the Black Ghost. “This is how he hides?” he asked the night at last, then headed for the coach.
“Will your father—will Mr. Becket be upset that we’ve brought the boys to him?” Julia asked when Chance was seated across from her once more and the coach was moving yet again.
She could see his wry smile through the darkness. “Upset? Miss Carruthers, tonight will be probably the first time I will have pleased Ainsley Becket in thirteen long years.”
Julia said nothing more but only sat in the darkness to consider the London gentleman whose knowledge seemed to reach far beyond concerns such as the cut of his coat or the latest society gossip, her mind full of questions, possibilities…and more than a little apprehension about what might await her at Becket Hall.
CHAPTER FIVE
LOW CLOUDS AND A SLICE of moon allowed Julia to see some of the facade of Becket Hall as she stood in the courtyard looking up at the huge stone building.
They’d driven up a wide, curving gravel path that was happily well-tended, to stop in front of the large central section of the house that seemed to be in the shape of a large U—although it could be an H, as she couldn’t see if the wings also extended toward the Channel she knew to be behind the building.
“The house doesn’t overlook the water,” she said mostly to herself, but Chance heard her.
“There are terraces,” Chance told her as he lifted the sleeping Alice from the coach. “But only a fool would face a house toward the Channel, Miss Carruthers. Then again, only a fool would order so many windows built into that side of the house.”
They had long ago, somewhere