Patricia Rice (43 page)

Morgan fell across the bed and grabbed her.
Laughing, they tussled among the covers with their son between them,
their joy too new to allow worry to tarnish it.

Sometime later Morgan emerged from the inn with a
happy whistle on his lips and his hat cocked over his brow. Despite
Toby’s revelation to the town that they were already married, Morgan
fully intended to have the deed done in a church, with their real names.
His only thought of the moment was to find a clergyman. He knew there
were problems ahead, not the least of them Faith’s desire to remain in
service and his lack of income, but he was confident of his own
abilities. He would find a way to make it work. With Faith to gain, he
could not imagine it being otherwise.

The sight of two familiar figures breaking into a
run at his appearance caused Morgan to step backward in surprise. Then
they were grabbing his arm and shoving him into a nearby tavern and all
hell broke loose. Their warnings hit him with the rapidity of artillery
fire. Thinking of the woman he had left with hair down, singing to their
infant child, Morgan groaned and sank to a nearby bench.

“Stop it, both of you!” Morgan roared, raising his
hand for silence. The hope and happiness of moments before lay in
shattered pieces in the sawdust of the floor, but he still had rage to
hold him upright. “Enough!”

He glared at the lawyer he had thought he had left behind in London. “What are you doing here, Golden?”

The lean young man returned his glare. “Saving your neck and protecting Faith, if I can. Any more fool questions?”

Morgan turned a black glare to Toby. “And how do you come to be in his company? Do the two of you conspire against me?”

“And how do you suppose I would be doin’ that? Would
you have me tell my brother of my lowlife friends so he could write for
me? I was on the road home when I met him. The Montagues are right
behind. Did I mention it was their henchmen who sent Faith fleeing here
in the first place? We have to get her away. What are we doing sitting
here?”

Glaring at them, Morgan crossed his arms and made it
apparent he was firmly entrenched. “I’m not running. Miles, tell me,
did you give them Faith’s direction?”

Disgusted, Miles signaled for the waitress and
ordered ale all around. “Do you think I would be here if I had? It was
that damn Runner. He tracked down my office and had it ransacked. When I
found Faith’s letters gone, I knew who was responsible. I went straight
to her grandmother as you told me to do, but the Runner had already
sold the information to those scoundrels. Lady Carlisle found out what
ship they sailed, and I followed. I didn’t know how else to warn you.”

Morgan quaffed his ale without tasting it. As they
talked, he kept his eye on the window. It was nearly noon and the street
was crowded, but he didn’t think he could miss the massive battleship
and the slippery shark that were the Montagues should they appear. “I
apologize,” he said gruffly. “You caught me at the wrong moment. Does
Lady Carlisle have any idea what they intend to do?”

Not entirely mollified, Miles gave his friend and
client a disgruntled look. “Hang you, I should imagine. There’s evidence
enough, I daresay. What they intend for Faith is anybody’s guess. Her
cousin has just married the strumpet he was passing off as Faith. The
marquess settled a sum on them, but I imagine it’s not enough,
considering the debts he has accumulated.

“Faith stands to inherit half of the marquess’s
estate and all of Lady Carlisle’s,” Miles continued. “The heir might
object to the loss of half his funds, but he never hoped to inherit the
Carlisle fortune. And as far as I can determine, Thomas only hoped to
inherit a portion of the Montague money. The marquess has already
informed him he’s received that and will receive no more. So I cannot
fathom what they hope to gain. Unless Edward has some hope of marrying
Faith and bringing all the inheritance to him.”

“In which case, he will certainly have to hang me.”
Morgan set down his empty tankard and strode to the window, scanning the
street. “I think it’s time I faced those two fine fellows. I’ll not
have Faith and our son shadowed by the buzzards, and if they stand to
inherit a fortune, it would be best to remove all obstacles in the way.”

The tone of Morgan’s voice caused his listeners to
look grim, but mention of the child brought Miles’s head up. “Son? Faith
carried your child?”

Morgan sent him a tired grin. “She did. She’s with
him now. A whopping big lad with a head full of black hair. When all
this is done, you stand to be a wealthy man, Miles. I’ll leave you
trustee of his estate.”

That did it. Miles shoved back his chair and rose.
“If you have some mad scheme of killing our noble guests and getting
yourself hanged just so Faith and the child can inherit, I’ll refuse the
commission. I don’t want any part of it, Morgan de Lacy.”

Morgan shrugged fatalistically and turned back to
the window. “Have it your way. Why don’t you say hello to Faith before
you go?”

Astounded by the turn of conversation, Toby looked
from one man to another. “There’s got to be another way. This isn’t the
forest, Jack. You have friends here. So does Faith. They can protect
you. Let me go get them and explain what’s happening. There’s those
who’ve had enough of the bloody British nobility and would give money
for a chance to come to blows with them. We can drive them back across
the sea.”

Morgan lifted a skeptical eyebrow. “I’ve been in town a week, Toby. I think you put too much faith in a few shared mugs.”

Miles shifted his shoulders nervously. “If there’s a
chance it will work... You don’t know for certain yet that they even
mean harm. Faith’s grandmother has offered a reward for her return. They
might simply be after that.”

Morgan quirked his eyebrow even higher. “I have
every intention of talking to them first. I just meant to warn you that I
didn’t expect the conversation to be beneficial. You gentlemen may do
as you please. I, for one, intend to remove Faith and my son from the
premises. I give you good day.”

He walked off without looking back. If the Montagues
had Faith’s direction, they would find her a lot more quickly than he
had. He would have to slip her out of the inn without explaining why.

Bumping into the kindly Mrs. Needham, Morgan took
the lady’s arm and pulled her aside. “Could I ask you to do me a
tremendous favor?”

Mrs. Needham smiled. “I’ll see what I can do, sir. Faith has been a godsend to me, you know.”

Morgan gave her a pleased look. “I want to surprise
Faith, but I need to send her away while I prepare. Since we’ll be
needing a place to live, I thought I could send her out to look at
available houses, if there are any. Would you be able to help us?”

“Of course! Do you wish to buy or just rent while
you look around for land? There’s the lovely little house just around
the corner... The Johnstons return to their plantation after the
Assembly is over and would be delighted to let it to you until the fall
session.”

“Perfect. Could you send word to the Johnstons, then
send someone with Faith to look at it? I expect to meet someone here
shortly and dare not leave myself.”

“Of course.” She sent him an anxious glance. “Will this mean that I need to look for a new manager?”

“That will be up to Faith, but I suggest you begin
looking, madam. I don’t think she has told you exactly who she is, but
you’re likely to find out soon enough, though I’m not the one to tell
you. I just want to prepare you.”

Bess nodded knowingly. “That’s as I thought. She’s
Quality. I knew it the first time I set eyes on her. You’re quite right.
I’ll begin looking immediately. You just take care of your business,
and I’ll see that she’s sent on her way.”

Morgan let out a breath of relief as soon as the
woman bustled off. Faith was going to kill him, if he didn’t get himself
killed first. Remembering those sweet eyes watching him trustfully,
Morgan turned the tide of his temper on himself. He had to be the worst
bastard in the history of the world, but he would do his best to make it
up to her.

And their son would have more than he could ever
offer. Hanging on to that thought, Morgan found a chair close to the
door and sat down to await the arrival of their noble guests.

Upstairs, Faith laughed when Bess suggested that she
go around to see the house on the corner. She knew which one Bess
meant. She had admired it every time she passed. It was one of the few
brick houses in town, with a shell window over the door and neat
shutters inside. The walled gardens surrounded a compact kitchen and
outbuildings, and fruit trees shaded the far end of the property. Such a
house was well beyond their means, but she smiled at the thought of it.

“I am certain Morgan means well, Bess, but I really
don’t think it would be sensible. He will want to look for land for his
horses and he will be gone much of the time. I know him well. It would
be far better if I stay here. Perhaps we should consider what rooms you
could best spare during the summer months when the crowds are lightest.
We’ll pay you a fair rent.”

Bess shook her neatly starched cap “Captain Morgan... He
is
a captain, isn’t he? He has that military bearing about him. As I was
saying, Captain Morgan was quite insistent that you go see it. I’ve
already sent word around to tell the Johnstons to expect you. It would
be most impolite not to go. Besides, it will do no harm to look. Perhaps
it will be more reasonable than you expect.”

Faith could tell that Bess had created a wonderful
romance out of their relationship, assigning titles and probably a
marvelous story to why they must struggle to make a life in the New
World. She sighed, and nodded. “I will just look. That is all. I have
too many things to do to take much time away.”

“Don’t be foolish! It’s a lovely day. Take all the
time you like. Take little George and show him off. He’s such a
beautiful child. Here, let me help you.”

Faith was wrapped and bustled off with George in her
arms before she quite knew that she was going. A boy waited at the rear
door to lead her to the house through the carriage alley. The idea of
living in such grandeur seemed ludicrous, but she wouldn’t mind seeing
the inside of one of the lovely houses she had admired but had never
hoped to enter.

The grandest house she could remember being in was
the vicar’s cottage in one of the towns they had lived in for a while.
It had been dark and rather gloomy, but the spacious rooms with
upholstered furniture, carpets, and draperies had made an impression.
She wondered if this house would possess such elegance.

***

Morgan watched in disgust as Toby arrived with his
brother and some of his friends. While the Assembly was in session, most
of the gentlemen in town would be otherwise occupied at this hour, but
it was obvious that Faith’s followers didn’t include just the gentry. As
word spread, the tavern began to fill with ruffians and merchants and a
few young gallants eager for a fight. Morgan never went out without his
sword and pistol, but few of the others had more than rusty shotguns
for weapons. This wasn’t a lynch crowd. This was a brawl waiting to
happen.

Miles arrived in the company of a lanky stranger
with a decided family resemblance. Morgan nearly choked on his drink at
the notion of Golden’s multitudinous family extending to these shores,
but as he was introduced, the notion was confirmed. He grinned and shook
his head and gestured for them to join him.

“You’re out of your waters here, gentlemen. I don’t
think litigation will solve this little problem, but I don’t mind the
company.”

Miles looked around at the crowd congregating in the taproom. “I don’t think it’s company you need. Where’s Faith?”

“She’s out looking at houses. Where’s our foe?”

“Cursing the lack of accommodations and throwing
their weight around at Raleigh Tavern,” Miles said. “I think a quiet
word or two would remove them permanently if the tempers over there were
any indication.”

Morgan grinned. “Charming family I married into, don’t you agree? Do you think I ought to take my friends over to greet them?”

“I wouldn’t waste the effort, were I you. Unless
they wish to be stranded here, they have to get their business done and
be back to the ship within some reasonable amount of time. The captain
isn’t averse to leaving them behind, however.”

Morgan sobered. “He might need to be persuaded to
take Faith with him when he sails. This is no life for her, when she can
have all the wealth her grandmother offers.”

Miles grunted, then groaned at being presented with
another tankard of ale. Sardonically, he lifted the hated drink in
toast. “I’ll be certain to encourage her in that. Why would she want to
stay here with gallows bait like yourself?”

Morgan sent him a furious look, but the inn door
opened, and he switched his attention there. It surprised him to see
Thomas Montague alone, but he had no objection to taking them one at a
time. He watched, waiting to see what would happen next.

Mrs. Needham hurried in at the sound of someone
beating at the front desk. Morgan watched as she frowned and shook her
head. Catching sight of him in the taproom, she suddenly beamed and
indicated his direction.

The tall, darkly handsome aristocrat turned and
gazed at the taproom with apparent disinterest, but Morgan could tell by
the set of his shoulders that he was tense. In response, Morgan relaxed
into his chair and lifted his tankard in greeting.

The man scowled but entered the tavern. He wore a
neatly powdered and clubbed wig and swayed as he walked on his high
heels across the rough plank floor. Morgan grinned even wider. Without
bothering to rise, he indicated the chair across from him. “Did you come
to offer me more money?” he questioned mockingly as the stranger looked
down his nose at his table companions.