A Gentleman By Any Other Name (29 page)

“I think we are,” Chance said, moving his jaw back and forth, checking for soreness and glad to find none. “When did you learn to punch like that?”

“If you'd come home sooner, you would have found out sooner,” Courtland said, then touched his fingers to his nostrils, coming away with blood. “Damn. I'm not the only one who knows how to punch.”

“I was just lucky,” Chance said, feeling the tension easing between he and his brother—or at least on his side. “You probably would have killed me if Julia hadn't thrown that water. Right, Cap'n?”

“You seemed fairly evenly matched to me,” Ainsley said. “Billy?”

“Yeah,” Billy agreed glumly. “Both dumb as shrimps. We've things to talk over, Cap'n.”

Bowing to Julia, Ainsley turned, still leaning on his cane, and reentered Becket Hall.

“Now,” she said, turning back to the two very wet men. “Exactly what was all this nonsense in aid of, hmm? Has it anything to do with this ridiculousness you're planning for those Red Men?”

Chance hesitated, and Courtland stepped into the breach. “It does, if you must know. You see, Julia, we've only the one black silk cape, and he wanted it.”

“So you
fought
for it?” Julia asked, glaring at Chance, who was having some difficulty holding back his laughter. “I should have just let you kill each other.”

“Julia, wait,” Chance said as she flounced away, heading indoors. He turned back to Courtland. “That was fast thinking, brother. We fought over a cape?”

“We've got two or three, as a matter of fact. But better that lie than to admit I'm a jackass who'd insulted my brother's beloved.”

“We're not…She's not…Oh, bloody hell. Go change, you look like you fell overboard—and so do I.
Julia!
”

Inside the house, Julia heard Chance call her name and hastened her steps, hoping to safely lock herself in her bedchamber before he could catch up with her. A vain hope as it turned out, because she'd barely made it to the top of the staircase before he was there, taking her arm, pulling her into an alcove.

“Out there, on the beach. You said you love me.”

“I did not. You misheard me,” Julia shot back, longing to push his wet hair back from his face, rain kisses all over him. “In truth, I've developed quite a fondness for Jacko. He…he does have quite a lovely smile.”

“Really. You'll pardon me if I've never noticed,” Chance drawled, stepping closer to her. “Julia, we don't have time for this now.”

“I…I suppose not.” She looked down at the floor. “Please don't go. Please don't do this. You've nothing to prove.”

“I have everything to
protect,
” he told her sincerely. “We didn't start this fight, we didn't cause that boy's death on the Marsh, among others, but it's our fight now and we have no choice but to win it. Do you understand? Please tell me you understand.”

Julia's gaze met his, and she sighed, knowing it was useless to continue struggling against the inevitable. “Where? Where does this happen?”

“I won't tell you that. It's enough that Morgan and the others have noticed all the activity without having any of you chasing out after us. But it's nowhere you can interfere, in any case. I'll be on the
Respite,
and Court and the rest on shore. We have every hope of destroying the Red Men's ship—or at least driving it straight toward the Waterguard's guns and boats.”

“Will Ainsley be in charge on the
Respite?
”

“I'll be in charge,” Chance told her, then quickly added, “Look, Julia, you have no reason to worry. We know what we're doing. I know what I'm doing.”

“Because you've done it before,” Julia said, sighing again. “And I don't need to know about that, either. When do you leave? When will you return?”

“We sail after dark, but there's much to do before then, and we'll be safely anchored back here when the sun rises tomorrow.”

Julia put her hands on his chest, fussing with his clothes as if smoothing the wet wrinkles could possibly improve their condition. “Very well then. I'll sit with the others while you're gone, embroider more pillowcases. And run quietly out of my mind.”

Chance eased himself even closer, tilting his head as he smiled. “Because you can't help yourself—you love me.”

Julia blinked back tears she refused to let fall and kept plucking at the collar of his shirt. “It's amazing, isn't it, that I never knew what I was missing, not all of these years, and yet I already know that I would now miss you very much if you were not in my life anymore. I'd miss you very much indeed. So, yes, I must love you.” She lifted her chin. “And if you don't come back tomorrow morning, I will hate you forever.”

“Then I'll be sure to come back, my love,” Chance said and then he kissed her, held her tightly for a moment, clinging to the promise of the new life he might at last have within his grasp, then left her there before he was tempted never to go.

C
HANCE HAD ONE FOOT
in the catboat when he heard Julia call his name, and turned to see her running toward him in the near dark, her long hair flying behind her in the breeze.

“Got to train her up better'n that, boy,” Billy said from his seat at the stern, then spit into the water. “Men sail, women wait and work their beads.”

“Stow it, Billy,” Chance said, then stepped back into the water, sure that, otherwise, Julia wouldn't stop running until she was wet to her knees.

“You…you can't go without this,” Julia said, trying to catch her breath as she held out her hand. He looked down to see his
gad.
She lowered her voice. “You left it in my bedchamber, remember?”

Chance took the thing and lowered it over his head, tucked it beneath his black silk shirt. “You're a constant amazement to me, Julia. The vicar's daughter, putting her faith in voodoo amulets? Still, I've been feeling rather naked without it. Thank you.”

“You're welcome.” Julia wanted to hold him, yearned to hold him, keep him close. “By the time sun rises?”

Chance looked at her, his expression intense. “I swear it.” Not caring that the beach was filled with his crew, he slipped one arm around Julia's waist and pulled her toward him, pressing a hard, claiming kiss on her mouth. He broke the kiss and pulled her closer, whispered in her ear. “I've never had anything to come back to before you.”

And then he was gone, his over-the-knee boots protecting his legs as he walked back into the water, then gracefully hefted himself into the catboat once more. Dressed in black from neck to toe, he seemed to carry with him an air of confidence, and competence…along with a hint of barely contained wildness that both intrigued and frightened Julia. At his signal, the crew began rowing toward the
Respite.

He didn't look back.

Julia watched with the other women from the village, some of them waving, some of them openly weeping, until the catboat reached the
Respite
and Chance had climbed the ropes to the deck. He was met there by Jacko, who immediately clapped one beefy arm around his shoulders, pulled his head down against his chest, and planted a rough kiss on the top of Chance's head before going toward the bow.

Julia could barely see Chance now, but his voice carried clearly over the water as he barked out orders. She was so proud of him. She was so frightened for him.

The last catboat was returning to shore when Ainsley pressed a heavy brass spyglass into her hand and she used it to locate Chance on the deck, his dark blond hair blowing loose and wild around his face and shoulders. Billy was helping him settle a black silk cape over his shoulders, the silk immediately filling with the breeze, and giving Chance a dangerous look that curled something deep in her belly.

A pirate. Her Chance made a fine pirate. And it was time to stop denying that fact. As long as she didn't have to deny that he was
her
Chance.

“A touch of the dramatic instills courage, my dear,” Ainsley seemed eager to explain, lowering the glass he'd been using. “Anchors are up and stowed,” he added. “Bring down your glass, Julia, and watch. It's time to be impressed with more of that odd mix of romance and pageantry of war that has lured us since the beginning of time, making otherwise rational men willing and eager to believe they are invincible. Or do you not believe that both the enemy and those who wore the scarlet cape of the Roman Centurian were not equally awed by the spectacle?”

And then, as Julia watched, several men swiftly climbed into the rigging. She could hear snatches of Chance's orders before there were sudden snaps as the sails came down, filled with wind.

The sails had been refitted, were no longer white. They were black, pitch black.

“The Black Ghost,” Julia said, her chest tight with realization. “I…I think I finally understand. Not a person at all, but a ship.”

“Every piece is a part of the whole, Julia.” Ainsley smiled down at her. “Not everything, or everyone, it would appear, was dismantled and rebuilt,” he said, standing tall, his handsome face looking proud and yet sad at the same time. A leader, Julia knew. A man born to lead. A man who, for whatever reasons, had abdicated that post of leadership.

“They'll be all right? Chance. Everyone. I saw Ollie rowing out there, his new daughter just born today. Ollie, and Waylon, young Jacob and the rest.”

“With God's grace and Chance's skill they'll all return safely, yes,” Ainsley assured her as the
Respite
moved silently along and then away from the shore, disappearing into the darkness as the light cast by the waning moon could find no reflection on the black sails. “Now, how would you like to help this hapless cripple sneak away to the ponycart Jacko readied for me, so we can both go hide ourselves and watch the proceedings?”

“But…but we won't be able to see Chance, will we?”

“No, my dear, but Court, Spencer, Rian and the rest have their own mission to accomplish. And, like a mother hen with too few chicks, I am determined to be on hand, one way or another. Not that Court can ever know, or he might go into a sad decline, believing I don't have my full faith in his abilities.”

“And you trust me to go with you?”

Ainsley smiled down at her. “More than I would Morgan, who would disobey me the moment she felt the excitement rushing through her veins, and the rest are too young. So? Are you willing?”

Looking first to her left, then to her right, and realizing that the women and children were slowly returning to either Becket Hall or their homes in the village, Julia nodded. “Which way will we go?”

Within minutes they were driving along a narrow track through the Marsh, the cleverly-fashioned lantern Jacko had provided opened halfway, providing sufficient light for them to see the path, but still shuttered enough that few others on the Marsh could see the lantern itself.

Julia pulled the ends of her cloak closer around her body, fearful that her teeth would soon chatter audibly, not really with the damp of the evening, but with fear. “Can you tell me what's going to happen?”

“Certainly. Court and his men have already positioned themselves on either side of a well-worn track leading to the shore, hours before anyone is expected to move on the Marsh. They're awaiting the arrival of the Red Men Gang, who are hoping to ambush us as we ride along the shore on our way to Saint Mary's Bay, where we have been led to believe they are to be. Complicated, I'm afraid. You won't be able to see them, but they are there.”

“How many?”

“Sixty-three, all well trained and well armed. In the meantime, the
Respite
will be waiting offshore for the expected cutter or cutters to swoop out of the night to surprise our smaller boats, those we would have naturally sent out to intercept the Red Men's haul before it can reach the shore.”

Julia thought about this for a few moments. “So neither the Red Men Gang nor, um, nor our people are expected to be using anything save small boats?”

“Ancient luggers at best,” Ainsley agreed. “Fore-and-aft rigged, able to run close to the shore, and not slow-moving, but certainly unable to outrun a sloop or fore-and-aft rigged cutter. So much easier when the opponent is running square-sail. Square-sail, you see, can only run with the wind behind the sails, never across the wind, as the
Respite
does so well. Another way I hope the Red Men have seriously underestimated us.”

“I don't understand,” Julia said, but quietly, because Ainsley had drawn the pony cart to a halt beside a wide scrub tree that should hide the cart, and set the brake.

“If, for instance, the Red Men are using square-sail, and are forced to take cover in some nearby estuary, it cannot come about, escape again, until the wind changes. We'd have them trapped, have them at our mercy.”

“So we're hoping for square-sails,” Julia said as Ainsley helped her down from the seat, still using his cane as they began walking along the track.

“Yes. As long as the breeze blows inland from the Channel, as it is right now. Chance would immediately see his advantage, and herd the square-sail along in front of him, straight toward Court, who should have dispatched the landsmen by then. But never put all your eggs in Hope's basket, my dear,” he told her. “A silent prayer or two that Lieutenant Diamond and his men are sailing along the coast tonight would probably not come amiss. That is, if he got that anonymous note telling him a few of his men and boats hovering near Saint Mary's Bay tonight could gain him a real coup.”

“You alerted the lieutenant?”

“To the area, Julia, not the exact spot. We don't want him shooting at the wrong people, now do we? But it would be nice to have someone else around to clean up once we're done.” “You like this, don't you?” Julia couldn't hide her amazement. “You and Chance, Court—all you men. You
like
this. The danger—all of it.”

“Guilty as charged, yes. A man needs to feel his blood thrumming through his veins from time to time, to know that he is alive.” He stopped, stepped off the path, motioned for her to follow, then couched down in the tall grasses. “Now, we must be quiet, I'm afraid.”

And silent they were from that point on, for two long hours. Julia's feet were damp through the thin soles of her shoes. Her muscles had begun to cramp, her body felt chilled to the bone, and something was biting at her—sand fleas, Ainsley had whispered as she'd smacked at her neck and the sound of the slap had caused him to frown at her.

If going into battle was exhilarating, waiting for others to go into battle was mind-numbing and uncomfortable.

Just as she felt she could crouch there no longer, Julia heard a quick jingle of harness, followed by an abrupt curse, then more silence. She tapped on Ainsley's shoulder and he nodded to her, acknowledging that he, too, had heard it.

He put his arms forward, his palms on the ground, and lay flat on his belly. Julia did the same.

She held her breath, sure her rapidly beating heart could be overheard by the men, both on horseback and on foot, who appeared out of the darkness single-file, heading toward the shore…toward Court and the rest.

She counted as well as she could in the moonlight, and became dismayed when that count went to fifty, and then beyond. To sixty. To seventy. And more.

Julia squeezed Ainsley's upper arm, not considering the intimate gesture, and he smiled at her and shook his head, clearly not worried.

“We can move now,” he whispered after a few minutes. “Not too far, and staying low as we go. Are you up for this, Julia?”

She answered by getting to her feet, then bending herself nearly in half as she waited for him to lead the way. As they moved along, she occasionally lifted her head slightly, hoping for a glimpse of the Channel, of Court's ship.

How had she believed the Marsh to be one long, flat land with no hills? This track led upward, then finally downward again, nothing near a towering hill, but the way slippery, her view more and more obscured because of the ground mist that had begun to rise.

There was a shout, then another, and Ainsley pushed her to the ground so unexpectedly that Julia's face landed in stagnant, foul-smelling water. Coughing, spitting, she struggled to rise again, but Ainsley held her tight as the shouts increased, along with the sound of gunshot, the clash of metal against metal.

Which was worse? Chance, out on the water, possibly being fired on by several ships? Or Court and the rest on land, standing toe-to-toe with men as intent on killing them as they were on destroying their opponents?

The first man stumbled over Julia's legs a few moments later, fell, picked himself up, and began running wildly again, leaving an ancient, evil-looking cutlass behind on the ground.

“Are you all right?”

Julia nodded her answer to Ainsley just before he pushed into her, rolling the two of them off the track and into the tangle of vegetation that bordered it in time to avoid being trampled by more wild-eyed men who were fleeing the battle.

Ainsley was breathing heavily now, too, but he smiled down at Julia as he lay protectively on top of her. “You can't buy loyalty, Julia,” he said, “and you can't threaten people into giving it. We counted on that.”

Feet pounded on the ground on either side of them, another man stumbling over them as they lay there, until at last Julia felt sure the entire world had just stampeded across the Marsh.

“Is that it? Is it over now? Or will Court follow them?”

“Court's still too busy with the Red Men to worry his head about their timid hirelings,” Ainsley told her, helping her to her feet. “Where's my damn cane? Oh—my apologies, Julia.”

“None needed, sir,” Julia told him as she scanned the area for his cane, then quickly retrieved it for him. “Do we move closer now?”

“Yes, we do, if you're up to it,” he told her, stepping out into the track once more, then holding out his hand to assist her. “Listen.”