Chapter 37
Itell you, I have our men.” Henry’s fists were planted on the rough table between him and the constable. The man had been no help before, but perhaps with names and the danger implicit in the situation, he would step up.
“I’ll not arrest a viscount, m’lord, unless the evidence is irrefutable. Nor some lieutenant.” He spit on the floor to punctuate his point.
Henry ground his teeth. Wroth as he was to admit it, the man had a point. If they wrongfully accused a member of the peerage, especially of something as heavy as this accusation, they could find themselves on the wrong side of the law.
“Then come with me. They will be active tonight, I am sure. That is irrefutable evidence.”
The constable shook his head. “I told you before, I am one man against a band. Even with your help, there’s nothing we can do.”
Henry knew it was true. But blast, what was he meant to do? Sit on his hands and let the smugglers be? Then why had he even come?
He could return to London with the names of those involved. He knew that was a possibility. But smugglers and pirates surrounded Windvale. He couldn’t leave Alice to the wolves.
And the Gentleman Pirate was still at large. The man who killed his father was on the island now. Would he slip away for another six years if Henry left?
“Sorry, m’lord,” the constable said, his expression resolute. “If that’s all, I’ve someplace to be.”
Henry blew out a breath. “Have any visitors come to the island seeking me or Windvale?” If the constable wouldn’t help, perhaps the men he’d requested would arrive at the eleventh hour.
The man’s brows rose. “Not that I’ve heard.”
Henry cursed, walking backward to the door. This was a wasted trip.
To his surprise, the constable followed.
“And where are you going that is far more important than smuggling?” he could not help the acrimony that tinged his voice.
The man leveled a hardened gaze at Henry. “A murder, actually.”
Henry froze in the act of opening the door. “Who? Where?”
“If you must know, a young man who worked at the White Hart.”
“Was he a new hire? Where was this?”
“Beach south of here. I don’t mean to be rude, m’lord, but you’re blocking my exit.”
“But what if they are connected, Larken?” Henry demanded, smacking his hat against his leg. “Something is afoot, and we may have more deaths on our hands if we do not do something.”
“I am doing something, sir,” Larken said, bearing down on him. “I’m investigating the murder of a man under my protection, not chasing fairy tales up at a fancy party. Now, step aside.”
Henry ground his teeth but there was nothing for it. He pushed through the door and swung back up onto his horse. He was on his own.
An hour later, Henry strode into Windvale’s entrance hall and pulled off his hat.
“Mrs. Seymour and my sister?” he asked the butler.
“Preparing for the masquerade, sir.”
A bit of the tension that had wrapped itself around Henry’s middle loosened. “And Lord Jennings?”
“Gone, sir.”
“Do you know where?”
The man paused. “I do not. But I can tell you that he left on foot.”
Preparations for something? Had he gone to the beach or another place? “Do you know when he will return?”
“He expected to be back for the masquerade.”
“Thank you.” He started not for the stairs to his room, but those to the lower floor. Things were far more abustle now. He strode to the kitchen, weaving through servants till he was at Martha’s side.
The woman jumped, pressing a hand to her chest. “Heavens, Sir Henry. Did you need something?”
“I am looking for someone. One of the footmen. I thought you might be able to help?”
She ordered a young woman to stop over stirring the soup, then turned to Henry. “I will if I can.”
“His name is Jimmy. Maybe fourteen years old. Dark hair. Yea high.” He gestured near his chin.
Martha wiped her hands on her apron, nodding. “Yes. He has been running messages for Mrs. Seymour. I expect he is—Oh, there.” She pointed, and Henry turned to see the boy darting into the kitchen.
“Thank you,” Henry said, then crossed to the footman, who was relaying something to one of the girls rolling out bread.
It reminded Henry too much of his time in the kitchen with Alice, and he averted his eyes, standing a few steps behind Jimmy until the boy was done, then he pulled him aside in the hall.
“I need a favor,” Henry said, voice low.
Jimmy nodded. “Anything.”
Henry looked to the side, waiting for a maid to pass. “What do you know of the smuggling tonight? Surely, those crates are not staying at Windvale. I imagine they will be taking them out to a ship for transport?”
Jimmy swallowed. “That’s what I’d guess, sir, but I swear to you, I have no part in it. I only do what I’m told, and last night, Mrs. Trumble sent a group of us to help unload those crates. That’s all.”
“And where is Mrs. Trumble now?” Henry hadn’t seen the hawk-eyed woman all day.
“Gone. Mrs. Seymour gave her the day off.”
Suspicious. But Henry had to follow his gut that she was not in charge. Lofty a goal it would be to take down the entire smuggling band, but for now, he needed to accomplish only two things: find the Gentleman Pirate and break off Julia’s engagement.
Hopefully, he could manage both in one. But there was no telling which man was actually in charge, if either.
He had to believe it was either Jennings or Carruthers. Both gentlemen with commanding presences, great wealth, and connections to the island and Seymour.
“Listen,” Henry said, coming a little closer. “I need to know if Lord Jennings and Lieutenant Carruthers will be at the ball tonight, or if either will be personally involved with the smuggling operation.”
Jimmy’s eyes widened.
“Do not put yourself in any danger. Maybe a few questions about their costumes to their valets.”
Jimmy made his decision, nodding. “Yes, sir.”
“Good man. Find me in my room half an hour before the ball.”
They parted, and Henry made for his chamber.
If the men were attending the ball, that is where Henry would go.
If they were not, he would follow them to the beach.
Henry did not know which was the man in charge, but he had to pick one, and prod for information.
The one currently attached like a leech to his sister was his best bet.
As a man alone, to corner Jennings during the masquerade would be prudent. With witnesses about, the man would be hard-pressed to turn violent and Henry could keep an eye on Carruthers while at it.
And if they split up? Carruthers to one location and Jennings to another?
That was the flaw in the plan. If Jennings wasn’t the Gentleman Pirate he sought, Henry would be giving Carruthers the chance to flee.
He entered his room, stalking to the window, and staring out at the water.
Even with the possibility of losing the Gentleman Pirate again, he had to pursue Jennings for Julia’s sake.
The idea gutted him, yet somehow, it felt the right path to take.
His father, after all, would want Henry to see to his sister, rather than focusing on avenging him.
Hopefully Jennings and the Gentleman Pirate were one and the same, but for now his main goal was keeping Alice unharmed and saving Julia’s future.