The Devil Earl (31 page)

“Oh, Sebastian, how can you say that?” Prudence rounded on him, the memory of the abbey’s marble and gilt vivid in her mind.

“Prudence! My lord! Let James finish,” Phoebe said, eyeing them as if they were squabbling children, before settling her attention lovingly upon her spouse.

“Luckily, most of the fellows were local, so when I mentioned who I was, they were for letting me live,” James said. “Apparently, the thought of killing the Devil Earl’s brother held certain connotations that boded ill for their continued good fortune. Unfortunately, one or two of the group were from farther south—Mullion, I’m thinking—and they had no such qualms. They were certain their leader would prefer me dead.

“In the end, they compromised by selling me to some of their associates, a bloodthirsty gang who called themselves privateers, but were the meanest sort of pirates. Apparently, they had made a good living preying on the French during the war, but were heading toward warmer waters and new booty in the West Indies.”

Prudence leaned forward, more fascinated by James’s tale than by some of the books she had read. Here was true-life adventure! However, from the shudder that passed through James’s body as he contemplated his next words, she guessed that the trip had not been very kind on a pampered young man. He closed his eyes, as if to ward off the memories. “It was not a pleasant voyage,” he said simply.

Phoebe edged closer and took his hand, and he smiled at her, his thumb rubbing against her skin as if he were soothing himself. “But it was not a total loss. By the time we reached the Indies, I managed to incite a mutiny, and we dropped the captain and his more nefarious cohorts off on a small island and headed home.”

He stretched out his legs, obviously more comfortable with this portion of the story. “So, now I am the captain of the
Will-o’-the-wisp,”
he said, with a hint of pride. “Although I suspect my sailing days are over,” he added, glancing toward a beaming Phoebe, “I have a mind to start a shipping venture. What do you think of that, Sebastian?”

For a moment, the room was silent except for the crackling of the fire in the grate. Prudence suspected that James had asked his brother for far more than a simple opinion, and everyone knew it. He was seeking both forgiveness and approval from his elder, and Prudence held her breath, eyeing Sebastian closely.

She need not have worried. His lips curved upward slowly, transforming his normally harsh features. “I think, James, that if I had any extra money, I would be happy to invest in your business.”

Everyone laughed as the tension in the room dissipated. Then James turned serious again. “Although I did not manage to come back with much but the ship, I will pay you back, Sebastian,” James said softly.

“I know,” his brother replied. “But first we have some kidnappers to rout.”

James grinned. “That we do, and I do not mind saying that I look forward to my next encounter with them.” He rubbed his hands in anticipation, presumably, of grasping the necks of his abductors. “I just arrived a few days ago, hoping to gain some news of them here in Mullion, but the leader seems to be known for swift reprisals against his foes, and fear keeps knowing mouths shut.”

He ignored a small sound of distress from Phoebe. “I was planning on sailing on up to the cove, but if there is a passage into the abbey, we will definitely have the advantage. Let me sail on past and come ashore.”

“Do you think that is wise?” Sebastian asked. “They may be alert for unusual activity.”

James shrugged. “They won’t notice if I’m anchored beyond the cove, and besides, once they realize that you are in residence, they should be in a hurry to remove their goods.”

Prudence watched Sebastian consider his brother’s words, and then he nodded in agreement, the promise of retribution in his stormy eyes. “Perhaps you are right. And then we shall have them, by land or by sea. At the new moon.”

“At the new moon,” James echoed, with an evil grin that reminded Prudence very much of his brother.

“Oh, must you?” Phoebe cried. “It could be dangerous. Why not just call the excisemen and let them do their job?”

All three of the others swiveled to look at her in surprise. “Those fools! The free-traders outwit them more often than not,” Prudence said.

Phoebe glared at her. “Prudence, surely you cannot countenance this perilous venture?”

Prudence glanced from her sister to the brothers eyeing her expectantly. When she saw the small twitch at the corner of Sebastian’s mouth, she tried not to smile in kind. Composing her features somberly, she said, “Phoebe, there
is a time when we must take the law into our own hands. I am sure these two can take care of themselves,” she added, reaching out to pat her sister’s arm.

“Besides, this will make great fodder for my next book.”

I
t was agreed that the ladies would travel with Sebastian in the Ravenscar coach, while James would sail past the abbey and leave his ship anchored offshore. Phoebe had wanted to return to the cottage, but the others talked her into staying at Wolfinger for the time being. The less attention drawn to themselves until the free-traders were captured, the better, they decided. Phoebe, heard to mutter, “Not that monstrosity,” was less than thrilled with the arrangement.

Mrs. Worth was not happy, either. When the earl returned with Prudence and Phoebe, the housekeeper threw up her hands. “More people! I cannot do it! When will I have help, my lord?”

Sebastian smiled tightly. “Oh, I believe you can manage for a bit more,” he said. “I have sent inquiries to my Yorkshire estate, where some of my former staff is now lodged.”

“But—”

“Later, Mrs. Worth,” Sebastian said. “You may put Mrs. Penhurst in the state bedroom and move Miss Lancaster’s things into the second suite.” At the mention of the change in arrangements, Prudence glanced away. The second suite, she assumed, was second to Sebastian’s, and she was disinclined to view Mrs. Worth’s disapprobation.

Although Sebastian had told Phoebe and James the same tale of betrothal he had fed Hugh, Prudence was not sure what to believe. Did the Devil Earl really wish to give up his freedom? Although they dealt together seamlessly, he had never spoken of the affection that she deemed an integral part of a romantic marriage. Of course, Prudence loved him deeply, with an intensity that she had never dreamed of, but what of Sebastian? Just how did he feel about her? Prudence could not ignore the suspicion that his so-called proposal had been forced from him, by circumstance, rather than desire.

Luckily, Prudence had more pressing problems to concern her. First, James, then Phoebe, and now the free-traders, had occupied her thoughts. Better to turn her attention to them than fuss about an indefinite future, she resolved.

Hearing Mrs. Worth’s sigh of frustration, Prudence felt a twinge of guilt at the poor woman’s woes, but she knew that hiring any locals now might interfere with their plans to trap the smugglers. Relationships among the Cornish were close, and an employee might easily pass on information without even knowing it. Better that the Worths should handle the house for a little while longer. But they would not be totally alone…

“Phoebe and I will be glad to help you,” Prudence said. When silence met her announcement, she turned to see a variety of reactions. Mrs. Worth, overworked though she was, looked appalled by the suggestion that one of the earl’s guests should assist her. Phoebe, resembling her old self now more than ever, seemed less than pleased to have been included in the offer, while Sebastian, dear Sebastian, struggled to hold back a laugh.

“Never you mind, miss,” Mrs. Worth finally replied. “You go on and freshen up. I will manage, and you are not to worry.”

Before Prudence could argue the point, Sebastian took her elbow and guided her away. “Come along, Pru,” he whispered.

“Well, the poor woman! I have done my share of work in my time, though Cook no longer allows me in the kitchen, for I do have a tendency to start thinking about my writing and forget about the oven.”

Sebastian gave a quick snort of appreciative laughter that made both Phoebe and the housekeeper turn and stare, but Prudence ignored his amusement. “You had better be careful, Sebastian, or she will think you have not the funds to pay additional staff, and then the rumors will fly.”

“Yes, well, I am not exactly rich as a nabob, anyway,” he muttered.

“Oh, my! Are you in financial straits?” Prudence asked.

“Not dire ones,” he said. He paused, his eyes flicking over her in a manner that reminded her that the hour was growing late. “I believe I shall be able to keep you in an appropriate manner,” he drawled.

And with that, he led her toward the second suite, which did, indeed, adjoin the one where he slept.

Sebastian went to meet James the next day, and when Mrs. Worth saw the missing brother, she made no further complaints. Instead, Prudence feared that the woman might faint dead away. Turning pale, she clutched at her bosom and shrieked, “Lord have mercy! It’s Mr. James!”

James, obviously glad to be back with his family, if not at Wolfinger itself, laughed and swung her up into the air until she gasped for breath. “Yes, I am home at last, and unscathed, as you can see.” Letting the housekeeper down, James whirled around so that she might view him.

“Well, Lord have mercy! You are looking well! And not a mark on you,” she marveled, eyeing his golden good looks. Then, looking suddenly horrified, she turned toward Sebastian. “Oh, my lord! I am sorry for thinking…
well, you know…” she mumbled. “There are always strange doings here, and I shall no longer remark upon them.” With a shake of her head, she turned to go, but the earl stopped her.

“Oh, by the way, Mrs. Worth,” he said, “James has brought along a few of his associates.”

The poor housekeeper, although flustered by James’s reappearance, was ready to protest any further additions to the household. Putting her hands on her hips, she puffed out her chest and opened her mouth to argue, but one glance at the arriving guests made her shut it again. Through Wolfinger’s massive doors came several burly, swarthy characters, openly sporting guns, knives and cutlasses. Grinning broadly, they looked as if they were right at home in the old abbey.

“Oh!” Mrs. Worth exclaimed, backing away. “Yes, my lord. Whatever you say, my lord. Certainly, my lord.” Nodding obediently, she hurried off, calling loudly for Mr. Worth, with just a hint of desperation in her voice.

Although members of James’s crew kept watch in the cave every night, it was not until the new moon that the free-traders returned. Sebastian was waiting with James in the passageway, and as soon as the ruffians arrived, he stepped out into the cave, with James’s men behind, guns trained on the intruders.

“Hold!” Sebastian said. “Who trespasses at Wolfinger Abbey?” He kept to the shadows, in a deliberate effort to frighten the more suspicious of the locals, and his method worked. Mention of the abbey alone was enough to make some of them drop their booty and move back, but not all were so fainthearted.

One came forward boldly, an ingratiating smile on his face. “Is this Wolfinger land? We had no idea. If we are where we shouldn’t be, we’ll be begging your pardon. And who might you be, my good sir?”

“I am master here,” Sebastian said, and was rewarded by a few fearful murmurs.

“It’s Ravenscar himself!” one fellow whimpered. “I told you we should not have come!”

“The Devil Earl!” another exclaimed.

But the brave fellow was having none of it. “Sorry, my lord. We were just storing a few things here,” he said with a broad wink. Most residents turned a blind eye toward free-trading, which had been practiced along the coast for centuries, and the fellow obviously hoped that the earl could be persuaded to do the same.

“No need for the gun, my lord. Now that we know the cliffs here belong to you, we won’t be bothering you again. If you’ll just put down your weapon, we’ll get our things and be on our way. How about some fine brandy for your trouble?”

“I think not,” Sebastian said coolly. “Despite what you may have heard about me, I am not my ancestor. I do not condone smuggling, nor will I be bought off by a few bottles of French wine. You see, neither I nor the abbey have a fondness for trespassers,” he added, in his most threatening voice.

The ruffian’s grin disappeared, and his eyes flitted around the dimly lit cave, obviously searching for a way to distract the earl. His opportunity came in the form of two of his cohorts, who decided to make a run for their small boat.

Unfortunately for the now unsmiling smuggler, Sebastian’s weapon remained calmly trained upon him, while James fired his gun, felling one of the fleeing pair. The other dived into the water, missing the craft by a yard, and the gunfire sent James’s men out to surround the rest. They hauled the boat and the two offenders from the cove, the one groaning loudly and clutching his shoulder, where James had neatly clipped him.

“Hey, now! There is no call for that,” the formerly bold fellow said, blanching. “We mean you no harm, my lord!”

“Do you not?” Sebastian asked, thinking of all that he had suffered since his brother’s disappearance. “Forgive me if I do not believe you.”

“Nor I,” James said, striding forward. When he had the attention of the group, he smiled wickedly. “Hello, boys. Remember me?”

The now thoroughly frightened free-traders huddled closer and shook their heads, while James’s crew members divested them of any knives and other potentially deadly possessions.

“What?” James called out. “Surely, you all have not forgotten me so quickly? How about you, Tom?” he asked, startling a young man, who glanced at him fearfully and shook his head. “Or Jemmy. Where is Jemmy? Ah, there you are,” James said, pointing his gun at the man who had taken a dunking and now stood dripping wet, his eyes wide with terror.

“Sebastian, I am wounded to the core. Not a one of these fine fellows remembers me,” James said.

“You have changed greatly,” Sebastian commented.

“Ah! So I have, and thanks to their kind offices, at that!” James said as he walked among the captured men, his teeth glittering in a grin that was enough to send a chill up anyone’s spine. “Perhaps if I were to don my former, more refined wardrobe they would recognize me as your brother, my lord.”