Chapter 34
“Wherein the brethren are reunited.”
“Henri!” Lawrence was beside her in an instant, hands checking her over, panic in his eyes.
“I’m alright,” she gasped, clutching at his arms. “I’m not hurt.” She shook him, discounting the pounding in her head as trivial because he was bleeding!
“It’s not my blood,” she said, trying to reassure him so that she could look at what was most certainly his blood dripping steadily down his arm. “I’m fine, but you’re injured.”
He waved away her concern and looked up at Mousy who was stepping over a dead body, one he’d apparently supplied, in the doorway.
“Are the others here? My brother ...”
Mousy nodded and dragged the body from the doorway, dumping it in the garden.
“Ye brother should be fine. This bastard ‘ere was on ‘is way to ‘elp ‘is mates finish ye off,” he said grinning. “And aye, Cap’n, the crew’s ‘ere, alrigh’. I sent ‘em round the back to get the earl clear, they’ll jus’ be moppin’ up by now.”
Henri sighed and saw her relief reflected in Lawrence’s eyes as he turned back to her. “My God, Henri, when I saw you ... I believe my heart stopped.”
She looked up at him and smiled, obliging him with a kiss as he pulled her closer still. They both watched as Mousy strode past them and kicked the body of Brant.
“Bastard,” the big man cursed. “I always hated that double-dealing rat.” He turned to Lawrence. “A good day’s work that was,” he grinned, gesturing at the corpse.
“Aye,” Lawrence remarked, nodding. “I only wish I could take credit for it. Henri killed him.”
Mousy looked down at her, scepticism clear in his eyes and she shrugged. “It’s true, though I demand that one of you teaches me to shoot properly. The recoil knocked me backwards.”
“Well she did fire two at once,” Lawrence said, laughing at the look in Mousy’s eyes and the indignation in hers. “Oh, ow,” he gasped, clutching at the wound in his side, though it seemed to do little to diminish his amusement.
“Oh, Lawrence,” she scolded. “We must see to that at once.” But Lawrence was frowning at Mousy.
“What the devil are you doing here anyway? I mean, not that I’m ungrateful you understand.”
Mousy grinned at him and sat on the stairs. “Been followin’ ye. The crew didn’t take kindly to their Cap’n bein’ taken from ‘em see. So, we figured we’d see where ye was off to, an’ ifin ye was handed to the militia we’d see if we could grab ye.”
Henri laid a hand over Lawrence’s. He had said nothing, but she could see he was deeply touched by the loyalty of his men.
“Brant said we had a rat,” Lawrence said in the end, looking up at Mousy as though he wanted to be told it was a lie, but Mousy’s face darkened, and he nodded.
“When we got ‘ere the men hung about in Bordeaux while me an’ a couple of the lads came after ye’ to get the lie of the land.
By the time I got back to tell ‘em ye were safe with ye brother ...” He stopped, rubbing his jaw with one meaty fist. “Jay was flashin’ the cash about like a bleedin’ fool.
Never did ‘ave a bit o’ sense that one.”
“Jay?” Lawrence repeated, sounding disbelieving. “He sold me out?”
Mousy looked sorrowful but nodded. “Aye, an’ not for the first time I reckon.”
“Where is he?” he demanded, fury in his voice but Mousy raised his hand, shaking his head.
“‘E’s been dealt with, Cap’n. the lads, well ... when they found out.” He shrugged, and Lawrence nodded.
“I’ve never been so glad to see you in my life,” Lawrence said, smiling at him.
“Nor I,” Henri added. “It was the finest, most wonderful sight, seeing you standing in the doorway with that gun in your hand. I will never forget it, and I will never be able to thank you enough. You saved his life.”
To Henri’s surprise and delight Mousy blushed and stared at his feet, rubbing the back of his neck and looking uncomfortable.
Lawrence chuckled. “Well I might have been moved to jealousy by that,” he observed, grinning at Henri. “If it wasn’t for the fact I agreed with every word. I owe you a great debt, Mousy.”
The big man shook his head. “Nah,” he said, his voice firm. “That’ ye don’t an’ ye know it. I’ve had a debt to pay, fer ... well fer gettin’ ye into this all those years ago, but now, maybe we’re even.”
“More than,” Lawrence said, nodding. He reached out to shake Mousy’s hand but then their attention was taken by a commotion at the end of the corridor, and more of Lawrence’s men, that Henri recognised from The Wicked Wench, piled in from the kitchens with Alex between them, his hands bound in front of him.
“What ye wantin’ doin’ with thisun, Mousy?
” One of the men demanded. He was an inch or two shorter than Alex and built like a barrel, with thick, hairy arms covered in tattoos.
He poked Alex with the nose of a musket as he spoke.
“There’s a number o’ corpses out back an’ matey ‘ere didna want to come quiet like. The bastard laid Nibs out cold and I reckon ‘e broke Sharkie’s arm, not to mention nearly breakin’ me bleedin’ jaw. ”
Mousy’s eyes went wide with alarm. “Plague seize ye, let ‘im go! I tol’ ye that the Cap’n’s brother was there, ye blitherin’ idiot. I swear, Harry, ye got no more brain than a sea turtle.”
“Tha’s the earl?” Harry said in disbelief and looking him over Henri could see it was hard to believe.
She had always thought he had a devilish appearance, what with those cold, flint grey eyes, but now, with his shirt filthy and in tatters, and the beginnings of an impressive black eye beginning to bloom, he looked thoroughly disreputable.
“‘E don’ fight like no gentlem’n,” Harry added, sounding very doubtful.
“Thank you,” Alex said to the man with a grave expression before raising an eyebrow at Lawrence in amusement, apparently quite unperturbed by being held at gunpoint by pirates.
“I am glad to see you in one piece,” Alex said, and then frowned as he took in Lawrence’s bloody appearance. “You are in one piece?” he added, with a touch of anxiety.
“I’m fine, nothing serious.” Lawrence said, getting up and then sliding back to the floor as all the colour drained from his face.
“Bed!” Henri cried. “Now. This instant! Mousy, help me get him up will you.”
She glanced at Lawrence and could almost see the lewd remark gathering on his tongue. Scowling, she wagged a finger at him. “Don’t you dare,” she muttered. “We’re not married yet.”
Lawrence chuckled and submitted with very bad grace to allow Mousy to help him up the stairs as Harry released the earl.
“Sorry, ye lordship,” Harry said, looking sheepish. “I didn’t knows ye was ‘is brother, like.”
“No hard feelings I assure you,” Alex replied, clapping the man on the back and making him wince. “I apologise for hitting you into the rose bed, but I had no idea you were on our side.”
Harry rubbed at his jaw and glowered a little at the memory.
“I guess we’re even then?” he said, sounding a little worried, clearly not trusting the nobility to let such a thing go without causing trouble.
But Alex just grinned at him and nodded affably before his face became disgusted as he took in the bloody corpse at his feet.
“Time to clear out the rubbish, I think. Lend a hand, there’s a good chap.”
Henri swallowed, feeling faintly ill as they both grabbed hold of Brant’s body. She looked away and left them to it, hurrying up the stairs to Lawrence.
“My Lady!” Came a shriek across the landing and Annie ran at her, smothering her in a rib-crushing hug.
“Oh, Henrietta!” the maid squealed, the use of her full name illustrating Annie’s state of distress as the maid cast an eye over her bloody clothes.
Before Henri could reassure her as to the fact the blood wasn’t her own, Annie seemed to notice something behind Henri, and with a theatrical moan she clapped her hand to her forehead, her eyes rolled up and she fainted clean away.
“Oh, Annie!” Henri exclaimed, exasperated and wanting nothing more than to go and care for Lawrence. She looked up as Mousy appeared beside her, staring at the rumpled heap of her maid on the floor of the landing.
“She alright?” he asked, frowning.
“Oh, yes, I think so,” Henri replied, eyeing her maid with suspicion. “She’s just fainted. Can you help me get her up?”
Mousy nodded and reached down, lifting Annie into his arms with little effort and surprising care. Henri directed him to Annie’s room where he laid her on her bed and then hovered, looking at her anxiously as Annie gave a voluptuous sigh.
“Should someone stay an’ ... look after ‘er?” he asked, watching the reclining figure with concern in his eyes.
Henri smothered a smile and cursed Annie, the shameless hussy. “I believe she will be well enough. Perhaps you could send one of the women with some smelling salts to revive her.”
Mousy nodded but looked a little crestfallen and she felt bad spoiling Annie’s fun, so she added, “But I am sure she would be grateful to know how you helped her, if you would call upon her later perhaps, when she has recovered.”
“Aye,” Mousy, nodded, looking pleased. “Aye, I’ll send one o’ the lasses an’ pop roun’ later. Jus’ to see she’s well, like,” he added with haste.
“I think she would be most grateful for your kind attentions, Mousy.”
She smiled at him and ushered him out of the room as fast as she could.
The moment he’d gone Annie made a miraculous recovery and gave her a devilish wink.
Henri rolled her eyes and ran back to Lawrence, finding him sitting on the edge of the bed with his shirt off and wadded into a bundle at his side. He looked up at her with a wounded air.
“Well at last, you’re lucky I didn’t bleed out the time you’ve taken!”
“Oh, Lawrence!” she cried, mortified and running to sit beside him. “I’m so sorry, only Annie would go and faint and then Mousy came, and do you know, I think he has a tendre for her!”
“Mousy? For Annie?” Lawrence said in alarm. “Well, I’ll be damned.”
Henri frowned as she removed the bloody shirt and inspected his wound. “Well,” she added, before she thought the comment through. “Annie was unconscious.”
Lawrence snorted with amusement. “Well that explains a lot.”
“Odious creature,” she scolded, smothering a laugh as she reassured herself that the wound was neither too deep nor grave. “Oh, thank goodness. We should get a doctor to look at it, but the bleeding seems to have stopped. How’s your arm?”
“Damn my arm,” he growled, and she looked up to see an altogether different light in his eyes. He pulled her to him and tumbled her onto the bed, kissing her with desperation, and she clung to him only too willingly until he pulled back and regarded her, his blue eyes troubled.
“You see what life with me will entail, Henri? I can never guarantee that this won’t happen again. I will always be a target while the price on my head is waving over me like a damned red flag.”
She nodded and put her hand to his cheek. “Yes, I know, darling, and that’s why you really must teach me to shoot properly.”
“Henri!” he exclaimed. “That should not have to be the answer to our problems. I don’t want you to have to kill men on a regular basis! Though you do seem to have an aptitude for it,” he added, with a rueful sigh.
She smiled up at him and then grew still as an idea began to form in her mind.
“Oh, Lord, what the devil is going on in that tangled brain of yours now?” he demanded.
Henri blinked up at him, all innocence, and pouted. “Well, really, Lawrence, I don’t know what you mean.”
“Yes, you do,” he grumbled, shaking his head.
“That look means trouble. I have no doubt in my mind that was the exact same expression you wore when you decided to head out into the night alone and blackmail a pirate!” She flushed a little and he nodded.
“I thought so. What are you plotting now, madam?”
Huffing at him she rolled her eyes. “That particular scheme worked out rather well didn’t it?” she asked, one eyebrow raised.
He snorted and leaned down to kiss her again. “Well,” he murmured against her lips. “I guess you have me there.”
She wriggled underneath him and giggled. “I believe I have you everywhere,” she said, biting her lip as his hands began to explore.
“Now hold on,” he said, stopping abruptly. “Stop trying to distract me. You are far too good at it. What are you scheming and tell me the truth, or I shan’t kiss you.” He sat up, albeit with a wince of pain, and then crossed his arms.
Henri sighed.
“That is indeed a threat to be taken seriously,” she replied with a grave expression. “So, I shall have to tell you everything.”
She looked down and realised with disgust she was still wearing the blood-soaked dress, so she stood and began to wriggle out of it, enjoying the warmth in her pirate’s eyes as he followed her every move.
“Well, Lawrence,” she continued as the filthy dress fell to the floor. “It was only that I was thinking about our situation, and as you say, the dilemma of the price on your head and really, I think it would be best for everyone if Captain Savage … was dead.”