Realm 04 - A Touch of Grace (41 page)

For the next several minutes, Grace explained in some detail all her interactions with the mysterious Lord Spectre: from his attempt on Lord Godown’s life in London to the man’s invasion of Grace’s quarters at Foresthill Hall.

“I thought he looked familiar,” Bel observed. “It was he I encountered in Godown’s room in Scotland.”

Lyn said matter-of-factly. “I am surprised you did not recognize the gentleman. Admittedly, he has changed over the years…”

Bel turned on her sister. “What do you mean?”

“The man our Grace calls Lord Spectre is actually Benjamin Talbot,” Lyn said with assurance.

Bel frowned deeply. “That is impossible. Benjamin Talbot drowned during a Channel crossing some seven years prior.”

Lía propped herself on one arm. She said, “I believe Lyn correct. The man on the deck is older, but his looks have not changed dramatically. If I recall Talbot’s father was a squire from Nottingham.”

Bel added, “But more importantly, Benjamin Talbot was Lord Templeton’s heir.”

Grace looked from one sister to another. “I am afraid I do not understand.”

Bel summarized, “It is more than odd that a man everyone thought long dead has a vendetta against Godown. Even more unusual is that said man’s connection to the Templeton family: the very people who created the scandal, which drove our Gabriel from English shores.”

Grace thought to finally know the truth of Lord Godown’s involvement with the Realm. While at Linton Park, Lady Worthing had described how James Kerrington had sought salvation with the Realm after his first wife’s untimely death. Lady Worthing had gone on to clarify how her brother, Brantley Fowler, had run away from the autocratic rule of the former Duke of Thornhill and how Lord Yardley had thought to punish himself for his inability to save his twin sister. Evidently, each man fought his personal demons. Grace had wondered what had driven Lord Godown’s fear of attachment. Yet, before she could ask her husband’s aunts to share Lord Godown’s story, the cabin’s door opened, and a dark-skinned man slipped into the room.

Immediately on her feet, Grace placed herself in the stranger’s way. “What do you want?” she rasped. Her fear strangled her words.

“Shush,” the man cautioned. “Someone will hear.” Amazingly, he remained by the door, but that did not lessen Grace’s wariness. “I have not come to follow Lord Spectre’s orders,” he said in hushed tones.

“Then why have you come?” Bel demanded.

The man smiled wry. “I will have no business with debauching Lord Godown’s womenfolk.”

Lía, who had risen quickly upon the man’s entrance, cautioned, “Beware, Grace. Likely he is the man Godown and his associates have opposed for the past six years.”

The man’s smile widened. “You are smart, Little One. In fact, I am Murhad Jamot, and I am Lord Godown’s enemy, but I am not yours. When I face your husband, Lady Godown, I will do so with honor.”

Grace charged, “The kind of honor that kidnaps women and children? Or the kind that fights with a woman who is heavy with child? Or one who leaves a woman on a ledge to die” Lady Worthing had shared with Grace how a Baloch warrior sought a fist-sized emerald, and the man would not stop until he returned the emerald to his leader, Shaheed Mir.

The Baloch conceded, “It is true I have studied your husband and his associates, and I will use any means possible to expose their weaknesses. The Duke’s weakness was his need to rescue a damsel in peril. I provided him an opportunity to prove himself a hero. With Lady Yardley, the Earl required a means to showcase his physical strength.”

“And what of Lady Worthing?” Grace charged.

“In truth, I simply wished to frighten Lord Worthing. To make the viscount worry over his wife’s safety. And in my defense, when I fought with Lady Worthing in Baron Ashton’s manor, it was I who left with a bullet in my arm,” he said honestly, and Grace thought it amusing how the Baloch could justify each of his dastardly deeds.

She glanced to where the Roses huddled together. “And what weakness do you hope to expose with Lord Godown?”

“Your husband, my Lady, is the least trusting of his associates. In order to solve this mystery your husband must learn to trust you.”

“I require an explanation,” Grace said.

The man pushed away from the door. He advanced several steps into the room. “I am going to assist in your escape. That is assuming you can swim, Lady Godown…”

“You expect our niece to swim to shore,” Bel said incredulously.

The man shrugged his answer. “It is not likely Spectre will permit you to leave this ship. You can identify him and his forces.” He paused, and Grace watched his words wash over Lord Godown’s family. “I can assist your slipping overboard. You must understand a boat would be too noisy. You must swim. If Spectre discovers you are missing, Lord Godown’s aunts will pay for your bravery.”

“Then I shall not consider it,” Grace announced.

“Of course, you will,” Lía countered. “If there is any chance this man speaks the truth, you must save yourself and Godown’s child.”

Grace looked carefully at each woman. “I cannot leave you. You are the only family I possess.”

“Then be brave enough to save us,” Lyn stated flatly.

Grace protested, “How do we know this man speaks the truth?” She gestured wildly to where the Baloch waited for her decision.

“We do not,” Bel summarized. “But I believe Mr. Jamot speaks with as much honestly as any man.”

The Baloch chuckled. “You are the sardonic one, Duchess.”

Grace swallowed hard. A bitter fear choked her breathing. She turned to the Baloch. “Tell me your plan.” She prayed he would not betray her.

“First,” he thrust a small package into her hands. “You must change your clothing. You cannot swim in that gown.” Grace accepted the bundle and began to unwrap it. “While you turn yourself into a boy, I will disarm your guard. When we move, Lady Godown, it must be swiftly. If you pause to reconsider, we will both be caught, and neither of us will want to pay Spectre’s price.”

“I understand.”

“The water is frigid, but it less than a half mile to shore. Have you ever swum such a distance, my Lady?”

A shudder ran up Grace’s spine. “Many times when I was a child, but never during the winter months and never in an ocean.”

The Baloch paused dramatically. “If you wish to reassess your options, my Lady, I will understand. This is a godlike task I place before you.”

Grace shook her head in the negative. “I would rather drown than to face Lord Spectre.” She glanced at her husband’s family. “How will I find Lord Godown once I am ashore?”

The Baloch grinned. “I have a contact at the docks. He has sent word three aristocrats have arrived at The Golden Apple. I am certain they are your husband’s associates. I am so certain after I assist in your escape, I will make my own departure. I am willing to leave Lord Spectre to fight his own battles.”

Grace bit her bottom lip in uncertainty. “It appears I have few choices.”

Lyn said, “What may we do to assist our niece?”

The Baloch challenged, “Think of a means to keep Spectre’s men from wanting to enter this cabin. The more time you provide Lady Godown the better.” He glanced at Grace. “I will see to the guard. Change quickly, my Lady.”

*

Gabriel, Swenton, and Lowery arrived at the docks as the night overtook the day. They had set up a temporary command post in an abandoned warehouse. Despite his anxious state regarding their upcoming boarding of the foreign ship, it was his wife’s fate that clung to his most intimate thoughts. For the life of him, he could not shake the feeling Grace required his assistance. Distractedly, he ran his fingers through his hair. “Are our men in place?” he asked involuntarily.

“They have their assignments,” Lowery responded as he loaded his weapon. “I plan to take a rowboat out to do some reconnaissance. Bradwick and Monroe with accompany me. The mist may permit me to move in close enough to determine how many we fight.”

Swenton said, “Beware, Lowery. Reportedly, the ship flies a Chinese banner.” The baronet nodded his understanding, and then he slipped from the warehouse and into the night.

Gabriel grumbled, “I despise the wait.”

Swenton reached for a deck of well-worn cards. “We may as well make ourselves comfortable. For a few moments of glory, there are too many hours of boredom.”

*

A light tap on the door signaled the Baloch’s return. Grace had abandoned her gown and corset, but had kept her under things. Mr. Jamot had brought her an over-sized shirt and loose breeches. “What of my hair?” she asked as she loosened the braid.

“Wrap it about and cover it with this.” He shoved a tight knit cap into her hand. Grace did as he suggested. Her heart pounded so hard she was certain everyone must hear it. “You will not need your boots,” the Baloch observed. Grace sat to loosen the laces of her favorite shoes. She had spent an inordinate portion on the serviceable shoes, but they had served her well.

The Baloch spoke to the Roses while Grace rushed through her transformation. “Have you thought of a means to delay the knowledge of Lady Godown’s escape?”

Lyn nodded in the affirmative. “We know exactly how to keep the men at bay. Women have been doing so for centuries,” she said with a conspiratorial grin.

Jamot chuckled, “I would love to know what you plan, but I assume yours is a well-known secret.”

“Absolutely,” Lía assured.

Standing barefoot before a stranger, Grace blushed, but she accepted the hearty embraces of each of Lord Godown’s aunts.

Bel palmed Grace’s cheek. “You are to save yourself and Godown’s heir. Anything beyond that effort is not your concern.”

“But, Ma’am,” Grace began as tears pooled her eyes.

Lyn joined them. “Bel is correct. We release you from our responsibility. For years, we have protected Godown’s interests. We relinquish his care to your most able hands. No matter the outcome of this encounter, you are Gabriel’s wife, and we ask only one thing: Love him. Do not permit our nephew to place you from his life. He needs you.”

“Lady Godown,” the Baloch said softly. “It is time.”

Good to his word, the Baloch led Grace through the lower passages. They passed several Chinese shipmen, but the ship’s crew gave the Baloch a wide berth. Grace ignored upon what she stepped. The wooden decks held a slimy wet coating. Instead, she concentrated upon where Lord Spectre held Lord Godown’s aunts. If she found assistance, she would must provide the authorities with an accurate description to aid in the Roses’ rescues. One of Lord Spectre’s men stopped Jamot, and Grace immediately turned away. If the English lord detained the Baloch, she would find her own way off the ship. Without looking directly at the Englishman, Grace pretended to curl a rope about a post as if she knew what she was doing. Hopefully, Spectre’s man had taken no notice of how closely she had trailed Jamot.

“His Lordship wishes to speak to you before you depart,” the man snarled. The Englishman’s contempt for the foreigner showed, but Grace would be thankful to count the Baloch among her “friends” if his plan brought the Roses to safety.

“I must secure the last of my shipment, and then I will make my farewells to Spectre,” Jamot said evenly. Grace slowed her efforts with the rope and stepped into the shadows surrounding one of the openings. She glanced about to keep her bearings. If someone spotted her, she could possibly jump overboard to escape. Of course, Spectre would give chase if that scenario became her only alternative.

“Lord Spectre said now,” the Englishman emphasized.

Jamot stepped threateningly toward the man. “I have but one master,” he said. “I will see the barrels are properly loaded onto the small boat, and then I will join Lord Spectre. If you fear His Lordship’s rancor, delay your return to the upper decks for five minutes. I promise to be on your heels.”

Grumbling his discontent, the man turned toward the starboard side of the ship. Jamot caught Grace’s arms to steady her step. “We must hurry, my Lady.”

Grace’s heartbeat raced as she slipped along beside him. She wondered if she should trust the Baloch. “Why? Why are you assisting my husband’s family? You are his enemy.”

Jamot braced her into a small boat before he spoke. “I do not appreciate Lord Spectre’s disdain,” he said honestly. “The man lacks honor. His Lordship blames the world for his misfortunes.”

“You mean he blames my husband,” she corrected.

Jamot smiled at her. “Lord Godown has chosen well, my Lady.” He loosened the rigging. “Lay flat on the boat’s bottom so it does not rock,” he instructed. “I will lower the boat as close to the sea as possible. Slip into the water quietly. I wish you safely home.”

“Bless you, Sir,” Grace said as the boat crept lower.

The Baloch leaned over the opening. “Tell Godown I still seek Mir’s emerald. Your husband will understand,” he whispered huskily.

Grace’s fingers dug into the notches in the wooden bench. The small boat swayed like a cradle as it inched closer to the icy water. She could no longer see the Baloch’s countenance, but she knew he remained above her. Every few seconds, the moon caught the reflection of the ring he wore.

Finally, the ropes no longer moved, and panic set in. Looking up into the night sky, she fought the urge to climb back aboard the ship. But she feared Lord Spectre’s revenge more than she did the possibility of dying. While she had changed her clothes, she and Godown’s aunts had analyzed the chances for their survival if Grace did not seek assistance.

“It does not speak well of our chances to overcome this ordeal if Talbot still hides his identity. He, evidently, believes his secret is safe.”

As she shed her gown, Grace said, “I wish I knew what this man plans for my husband.”

Lyn observed, “Talbot has made two attempts on Godown’s life. If not for you, my Dear, our Gabriel would have lost his life to Talbot’s bullet.”

Grace’s hand began to shake as she thought of how close Lord Godown had come to death. “Then we must find a means to stop Lord Spectre. If I fail…” She could not state the obvious.

“Yes,” Bel said coldly. “If you fail, Talbot will exact his revenge on Godown’s title, but we do not expect you to fail.”