Chapter Sixteen
Dane stormed through the small garden gate angrier than he thought he had ever been. Who did she think she was to refuse him like that? As if he was beneath her when in truth if it hadn’t been for her betters she would still be languishing away in the madhouse. The ungrateful chit! Surely the idea of being married to him was not that repulsive? He knew plenty of women who would love to tie him in the parsons noose, dozens that sought the title of Duchess and even more willing to warm his bed with considerably more experience that a blind virgin.
His long angry strides carried him swiftly through the thick trees surrounding the cottage as he headed toward the road that led passed the ruined Abbey. His mind seethed with righteous indignation and he thought that he should write to Matherson requesting a replacement or at least someone who could stay with Charity allowing him to devote all his time and energy in tracking down the Shadow of Death. Then he could put this whole unpleasantness behind him and walk away with a clear conscience.
Dane slowed his pace as a pain gripped his chest at the idea of walking away from Charity. Absently he rubbed the area above his heart as he thought of everything she would have to face without his protection. She had experienced the bitter non acceptance by society over her handicap but now that she was well and truly compromised she would be utterly ruined. And no man would be willing to marry her now that she was no longer a virgin.
Dane had not risen from bed this morning with the intention of seducing her but when he saw Charity standing in the soft morning light, her skin as smooth and soft as cream, light tendrils of her dark copper tinted tresses framing her lovely face he was consumed with the need to touch her, taste her. It had taken all his will power not to drag her into his arms and feast on her succulence right then and there. Instead he grabbed the first cup he found and filling it he nearly scalded his mouth with the first gulp. Her delicate scent of lilac had beckoned him to lean closer and he inhaled her deeply speaking her name in her ear.
What followed had been the most mind blowing breathtaking experience of his life. He couldn’t remember a time when he had come so hard or spilled so much seed. That she had been so innocently bold thrilled him and he knew that she would only become more open with her sensuality as time passed. Good Lord he was getting hard just thinking of all the things he wanted to teach her. Blood surged into his cock as it cried out to be buried deep inside her again and it took all his determination not to run back to the cottage and beg her to take him.
Her refusal to marry him even after they had laid together hurt but now that his ire had cooled he realized that he had gone about proposing all wrong again. It did sound cold and calculating just as she accused now that he played it back in his head. No wonder she had been angry, she thought he happily ever after was forever lost and when he had the opportunity to give it back to her had lost his temper and rejected her in the worst possible way.
There was only one way to for him to fix this entire mess, he would do what he does best. He would use his skills as an agent and end this assignment quickly and the only way to do that was to confront Maria. He would find out everything she knew, drag every secret out of her. He would get the name of the peer that was betraying his country and imprison them both. Then he could concentrate all his attention on Charity and he would make her see that she meant the world to him.
With renewed determination he set off for the docks already formulating a plan on how to get aboard the Flying Anne.
∞∞∞
After a couple hours of nightmares chasing her out of her sleep Charity gave up on finding any sort of peace and dragged out of bed. Cleaning away the abandoned breakfast she wandered into the back room and sat at the piano with her hands poised over the keys. She gave up after twenty minutes of listening to Dane’s incriminations and loathsome comments chase around in her mind.
She wanted to deny the truth of his words but deep inside she admitted that in part he had been correct. If at the tender age of seven and ten she had not defied her uncle, had not rebelled against his dictate he would not have lost his temper which resulted in his assault on her person which in turn resulted in her loss of sight. If she had not wandered into the gardens the night of the Dewaldington’s ball she would not have been a witness of sort to an attempted murder. And if she had not so foolishly ran from the parlor straight into the clutches of the Shadow of Death Dane would not have had to risk his life to save hers, Violet would not have been whisked away and Dane and her would not have been forced to flee the city together. Then likely she would not have foolishly fallen in love with him and more foolishly fallen into bed with him.
Realizing that the evidence of her lost virginity most probably marked his sheets Charity thought it best to be rid of any reminder of her colossal lapse of good judgement. It seemed like a sunny and warm day she decided it would be the perfect time to do a little laundry. Dane had shown her the night before where the wash tub and board, soap and even the line on which to hang things to dry was located. After carting in water to heat she went upstairs to strip her bed and gather the few clothes that needed washing. She stood outside the door to Dane’s bedchamber for several minutes before mustering up the courage to go inside. As hard as she tried she could help remembering what had transpired on his bed that morning. How her body had responded to his touch, how he had driven her to a fevered pitch that she had begged him to take her. Even now her channel clenched at the memory of how his hard length stretched her, filled her. Of the way he had moved inside her and how he had driven her to such a mind-blowing release that she thought she would never come down from.
But none of it was real, and it had stung to realize he had manipulated her in a ruse to get her to the marriage altar which she didn’t understand at all. He had made it clear that he did not hold even the smallest affection for her and he was right in that he could easily walk away and suffer no consequences so why was he being so insistent. Sure he was a man of with a deep sense of honor and he had vowed to protect her but insisting on marrying her was going to the extreme. She knew there would be gossip but when they had left the city and every stop along the way he had protected her identity. No one other than Violet and a few members of the home office knew they were even together so it should be easy to come up with a cover story to eliminate the gossip.
Thinking about it was giving her a headache so Charity quickly striped his bed left the room determined to leave the memories firmly locked behind the door.
Charity hadn’t realized what back breaking work it was to do the washing. To think that women did this every day all day long and were paid just pennies, barely enough to purchase a single loaf of bread. She had a new found respect for the person in Violet’s employ who had to suffer through all the silk gowns and endless piles of petticoats.
She started with her smaller garments, chemise, corset, underdrawers and stockings and hung them in the sun to dry. Working carefully down the line she pinned each item with the pegs that had been left hanging. Now and again thoughts of Dane would intrude upon her work and she would have to shake herself back to the task at hand. She was just about finished hanging the first bunch of washing when she was suddenly struck with the sensation that she was being watched.
Charity had no way of knowing who was watching her but the way the tiny hairs on the back of her neck stood she could tell that they were not here for a friendly neighborly visit. She wondered if it was the same female interloper that had been moving the furniture and other item in the house like it was some great joke. Charity stood fuzzing with the laundry on the line listening intently for any movement that might indicate where the person was located. After a few minutes failing to garner their whereabouts Charity went back to washing always keeping an ear open for any unusual movement.
The bed sheets were the most difficult, they became heavy and awkward to handle once wet and wringing the water out of them before hanging to dry had Charity’s hand and arms aching. By the time she had the last garment hung on the line the front of her dress had soaked up as much water as if she had dunked herself in the tub. During the entire process of washing, wringing and hanging she had never been able to shake the feeling that she was been watched and by the time she pinned the last sheet her nerves were strung tight.
The stickiness of her damp clothes sent her inside where she quickly turned the key in the lock behind her. Listening intently for any noise that might indicate an intruder she stood quietly in the kitchen for several long nerve racking minutes before she went to her room to change. She sat for another hour after, her knee bouncing with nervous energy and her hands twisted repeatedly in the folds of her day dress absently playing with the kerchief wrapped darning needle she always carried in her pocket. Since all this time had past and no one had attempted to intrude she shook off her fears as silly nonsense brought on by her overwrought nerves from her emotion filled morning.
Gathering the first items off the line she neatly folded them into the basket she had brought with her. Reaching to remove the first pin from a sheet that was flapping lazily in the soft breeze she heard the distinct sound of footfall behind her. Twirling around she with her heart in her throat she called out.
“Who’s there?” she cocked her head when no one answered and she could definitely hear their breathing. Right now she dearly wished for Dane’s protection. “I know you are there, who are you?”
A familiar voice greeted her, “Hello Charity, how are you child”
She nearly collapsed with relief, “Dr. Phillips, my goodness you gave me such a fright.”
∞∞∞
The small fire Dane lit in a trash barrel was enough of a distraction to allow him to slip aboard the Flying Anne without being detected. The captain it was reported had not been aboard since the day after the ship made dock and the first mate and a few sailors remained, each watching the commotion near the warehouse closest to the ship. Slipping into the companionway he paused letting his eyes adjust to the darkness below deck and to assure that he was alone in the cramped corridor. Just as he was about to open the door to the captain’s cabin where no doubt Maria would be staying a door to different cabin opened.
“‘Ere now what ye ‘hink ye be about down ‘ere.”
Dane watched as an old sailor rushed toward him, his grey thinning hair hanging in long grease strands, his skin darken and wrinkled from too many hours in the sun. The man’s clothes dirty and ragged hung to large on his slight frame and the closer he came the strong the offensive odor of cheap gin and unwashed body could be smelt.
The sailor was reaching for the blade he had tucked into the waist of his breeches but before he could pull it free Dane shot out his fist. Fast as lightning he struck the older man hard on the chin rendering him unconscious with one blow. Catching him before he could hit the floor Dane dragged him quickly toward the captain’s cabin before they were discovered.
Quietly clicking the door closed behind him Dane quickly located a length of rope to bind the sailors hands and feet, then stuffing a dirty sock in the man’s mouth as a gag Dane propped the fellow against the wall next to the door. Scanning the room his trained eye he sought the many different places where important information could be secretly hidden. The room was quite opulent with rich hues of red and gold overlaying dark polished wood with heavy carved furniture that was secured in place so as not to move on rough seas.
Spotting a small writing desk with a plush chair that seemed more feminine Dane guessed that they were a new addition acquired by Maria. Here is where he started his search, checking the underside of both desk and chair before rifling through the drawer and papers that sat on top. The only thing he found was a half composed letter to an apparent lover by the name of Count Philippe Antoine Delandine demanding his speedy arrival. Seems they are to meet here in Whitby. Dane wondered how the Frenchman would sneak on to English soil without raising suspicions. Dane made a mental note to fire off a message to Matherson requesting information of this Count in the meantime he would keep a close watch for the fellow and gauge his activities.
Making a circuit of the room Dane slowly made his way to the large desk that commanded so much of the room. Being careful not to disturb the papers upon the top of the desk he looked through them finding nothing of importance. He opened one draw then another and still nothing until he searched the underside of the desktop and found what could only be a secret compartment. Being quite familiar in such matters it took him but a few seconds to pry it open whereupon he found a large leather bound volume. Flipping through pages of columns filled with dates, figures and initials Dane struggled to understand their meaning until near the end of the book a notation on the side caught his attention.
CAD 28 crates 2510
Twenty five ten that was today’s date but was it possible that it could stand for something else? No, Dane was certain it was the date of something important. The delivery of twenty eight crates, but crates of what? Upon closer examination Dane found several entries of the same amount of cargo being delivered to the ship but nothing to indicate what that cargo was or where it was off loaded.
The initials, if that’s what they were, CAD could represent Maria’s Count but with the missing P Dane could not be certain. Glancing at the columns again he noted that several of the recorded deliveries had the same three letters beside them.
Deciding there was nothing further to find in the cabin Dane was just about to push to his feet when the door suddenly swung open. Caught completely unawares Dane could only gape at the large figure that quickly closed the door after him.
“Daniel what the hell?” Dane leapt to his feet wondering how the younger man even knew he was in the captain’s cabin.
Daniel knelt down beside the still unconscious sailor saying over his shoulder as he loosened the bounds, “You need to finish up your business here. The captain is about to come aboard any minute and he is not the sort of fellow who takes kindly to trespassers and stowaways.”
“How did you even know I was aboard ship?” Dane demanded in a low sharp voice. He noticed that Daniel’s speech was much more refined, that of a gentleman’s.
“Matheson has had me watching the Flying Anne since she docked here three weeks passed.”
“Matherson! You work for the home office?”
“Yes,” Daniel told him as he handed a small silver flask in Dane’s direction, “take a good drink of this then splash a little on your clothes.”
Understanding dawned and Dane quickly did as he was bid, the gin burning a path to his stomach as he passed the flask back to his fellow spy. Mussing up his hair and pulling his shirt from his trousers Dane did what he could to appear disheveled, as if he had spent the night deep in his cups.
“Here help me get this fellow up.”
Once they had the old sailor upright between them, his arms draped over each of their shoulders and a hand grasping the back of his pants they quickly exited the captain’s cabin. Making their way to the hatch they climbed the steps to onto the deck where Dane discovered a great deal more activity than when he boarded. Dane prayed their ruse would be enough to see them off the ship safely.
Staggering slightly the two men carried their burden across deck to the gangway where they had to wait for a group of returning sailors carrying supplies aboard before the could disembark. They were about to do so when a shout sounded from behind them. Dane having spent several months in Spain was able to understand and his reply though slightly slurred and flung over his shoulder was spoken in Spanish.
“Just returning my drunken friend to his proper ship sir.”
“Is he not one of this crew?” the first mate demanded to know.
“No sir he belongs to the Wind Spirit docked further down,” Dane knocked his head in the general direction of the ship he and Daniel had been off loading cargo from just the day before.
“Get that rubbish off my ship and see to it quickly,” Dane thought the first mate was about to say something more but interrupted by the appearance of the captain coming aboard.
Keeping his head down Dane watched with lowered eyes as a short and rather stout man dressed in buckle shoes, bright yellow breeches and a startling green brocade jacket, lace spilling from the cuffs and neck ascended the gang way. With a bald overly large head that shone in the sun, small close set eyes and a scar that ran down the left side of his face from eye to chin the captain appeared more buffoon than one that commanded the respect of an entire crew of hardened sailors.
Once the man had wheezed and perspired his way aboard Dane and Daniel quickly made their way down the docks and slipping in between two warehouses where they deposited their companion.
Daniel turned to him with his hand stretched out, “Allow me to introduce myself. Viscount Pemberley at your service Your Grace.”
Taking the proffered hand Dane gave it a quick shake, “Pleasure now tell me what you know,” Dane charged to Daniel.
“Right to the point, I like that,” Daniel said with a smile, “Home office suspects the Flying Anne of gun running to the French. We know there is a shipment of guns coming in just not when, that is why I was sent to watch her.”
Whipping his arm around his back Dane said,”Today, it’s today.” Producing the ledger he stole from the captain’s cabin Dane flipped it open to the page with the notation he found.
“CAD, what could that mean. It appears here several times.” Daniel speculated.
“Hard to say for sure but I did find an unfinished letter to a Count Philippe Antonine Delandine on Maria’s writing desk, it could be his initials minus the P.”
“What did the letter say?”
“She was lamenting his delay in arriving, seems Maria expected him to join her here.”
“Hummm,” Daniel rubbed his chin, “I believe he may already have. This morning before you arrived she was seen leaving the ship with a gentleman. A tall wiry fellow and I recall as they walked by hearing her referring to him as Dr. Phillips which could…”
“Dr. Phillips, are you quite certain?”
“Yes quite.”
A cold rock of dread fell into the bottom of Dane’s stomach. Could this be the same Dr. Phillips that Charity spoke of with such admiration, the same man that rescued her from Bedlam and provided a home for her until Violet came along. She did say that he often traveled to France because of his profession but maybe there was something more involved. Daniel’s voice broke through his frantic thoughts.
“Good Lord man what is it? You have gone quite pale.”
“Charity! She’s in danger, I have to get back to the cottage.”
Dane launched himself out of the alleyway,his long legs pumping, heart racing and bile rose in his throat threatening to choke him. It took him a moment to realize that Daniel was running alongside him.
“The cottage is too far, it will take too long to get there. Come with me I know where there is a horse or two.”
Whipping around the corner of a tavern the two men raced toward the mews behind a house a few streets north of the docks. All the while Dane was shaking with fear for Charity, hoping no praying he was not too late.