The Wily Wastrel Page 17

  In her distraction, Juliet put on one of the silliest gowns her mother had made her order. One that had been packed with the new ones simply because there had been nothing else to do with it when they decamped from the hotel in London.

  Except that it was not precisely distraction that made Juliet choose that dress. Rather, her thought was that if she seemed a mere, silly female, then she would be able to ask any question she wished, of anyone, and they would answer her without thinking greatly about the matter or take great note of her having done so.

  So, dressed in far more frills than she normally could tolerate, Juliet sallied forth to look for James. In one hand she carried her reticule, in the other a frilly parasol, ostensibly to shield her from the sun but in truth because she knew that it had a daunting effect on overly impertinent males when used to good purpose.

  Walking out on her own, she feared she might run into just such discourteous fellows. And if that were not sufficient, she had, at the last moment, tucked her dagger into the bodice of her dress. To be sure, it was a trifle uncomfortable there, but she wanted it easily to hand if there was trouble and this way it was entirely out of sight.

  The one incongruous note in her appearance was her spectacles perched firmly upon her nose. Juliet knew they did not match the frills and parasol, but if she was to find James, she must be able to see. And to the devil with anyone who dared to laugh at her, she vowed!

  No one did laugh. Indeed, no one seemed to pay her any attention at all. And unfortunately, once she was more than a few steps from the inn, Juliet could find very few people who remembered seeing James. It was really most distressing.

  And then she noticed the boy. He was a raggedly dressed street urchin but he was looking about him with the shrewdest eyes she had ever seen.

  On impulse she said, “Have you seen a man who stood this tall, with brown hair and gray eyes? A gentleman dressed in elegant clothing but his neckcloth a trifle askew?”

  “The one wot got bopped on the ‘ead?” the boy asked. “The one wot the smugglers was saying they was mad at? Sumfing about lights and ghosts and such?”

  Juliet closed her eyes, breathed a tiny prayer, and opened them again. “Yes,” she said, nodding her head vigorously, “that gentleman.”

  The boy pointed. “They took ‘im there.”

  Juliet looked. She saw a dirty inn that did not in the least seem inviting. She shuddered. But if James was there, she had to rescue him. If he had indeed gotten “bopped on the head,” he would be in no condition to rescue himself.

  But how, precisely, was she to do so? That was the question that worried Juliet. The inn was not the sort of place that a lady would willingly enter, and if she did so, it would certainly put the smugglers on their guard.

  As she watched the inn, brooding, Juliet noticed that a few women did enter the establishment. Women Juliet’s mother would have indignantly said she should not deign to notice.

  But Juliet did notice them. With great interest. Suddenly she knew what she must do. She looked around and whisked herself into the nearest alley. There she tugged at the bosom of her dress, trying to lower it. To no avail. With growing frustration she tugged harder and succeeded in ripping some of the ruffled material at the neckline. Which gave her an even more outrageous notion.

  She took the dagger that lay concealed in a small sheath between her breasts and used it to cut off all the lace and furbelows at the neckline of her dress. When even that did not seem enough, she cut the dress itself until it opened low enough to match what the other women wore.

  Would that do? she asked herself.

  Juliet chewed her lower lip, looking down. Her hem. The hem of her dress ought to be shorter. She didn’t hesitate but began to cut off the lowest flounce on her hem. That shortened things quite a bit, showing her trim ankles quite nicely. Unfortunately, in removing the flounce, the seam at the side of her skirt also tore, revealing even more of her legs—to a degree that was really quite shocking.

  A sparkle lit Juliet’s eyes and she grinned to herself, then promptly slit the other side as well. That, she thought with satisfaction, ought to distract the smugglers nicely! Now what to do with the dagger? She had cut her dress so low in front that she could no longer conceal it there. Well, she thought with a frown, she would just have to tie it onto her leg, higher than the slit in the sides of her skirt, of course. She could use some of the discarded fabric from her dress to do so.

  Abruptly she realized the boy was still with her, watching with something akin to awe in his eyes.

  “Gorm,” he said, “are you mad?”

  Juliet smiled at him. “No. At least I don’t think so. I just have a husband to rescue.”

  His eyes grew even wider and Juliet tossed him a coin and thanked him for his help. She took a deep breath and tucked her spectacles safely into her reticule. Then, resolutely, before she could change her mind and let fear overrule her, Juliet strode out of the alley. She sauntered toward the inn, imitating as best she could the walk of the women she had seen.

  Inside the inn, however, Juliet had to pause and allow her eyes to adjust to the small amount of light that filtered through dingy windows that were so dirty they had to be that way on purpose. And as she looked around the room, the room looked at her.

  There. In the corner. Surely those were the same men who had confronted her and James near Dover Castle? She started toward them, again trying to imitate the walk of the women she had seen. It felt very strange to allow her hips to move in such a provocative way!

  One of them rose to meet her as she approached their table and she saw, with some satisfaction, that it was the leader.

  “Hallo, ducky,” he said, admiringly. “You’re new, aren’t you?”

  Juliet made herself smile and lean toward him. “Very new,” she said, with what was meant as a purring sound.

  “Won’t you join us?” he asked, waving a hand to indicate his group.

  One of the other men made a strangled sound, drawing the leader’s attention and a frown. “But she’s the one!” the man hissed. “The one wot we saw at the castle!”

  Juliet silently cursed the man’s perceptiveness but she kept her smile firmly in place even as the leader swiftly surveyed her again. Once warned, she had little hope he would not recognize her as well. And he did.

  Instead of the polite invitation issued moments before, he seized her arm and thrust Juliet into the nearest chair. “How very interesting,” he said. “Now we have both of you.”

  Juliet drew in a breath. She let it out softly. “So you do have him. I thought you might. Not that he will do you any good.”

  That got the leader’s attention. “What do you mean?” he asked sharply.

  Juliet allowed herself to sigh. “He is a fool, my poor husband. A terrible fool. But he does have powerful friends and family. If he goes missing for more than a day, they will put all their power into finding him and punishing whoever they discover to be responsible.”

  The leader stroked his chin, patently skeptical. “I see,” he said. “What I should like to know is what you are doing here. And how you come to be dressed the way you are. Ladies do not belong in this place.”

  As he said these last words, the leader waved a hand to indicate the inn. Juliet narrowed her eyes and said, “Ladies do not belong near Dover Castle, either. But I was there. Do you honestly think I would have let my fool of a husband go out at night alone? He’d more than likely have tumbled over a cliff if I hadn’t been there. Just as he managed to be captured by you when he went out alone today.”

  The leader narrowed his own eyes. “You are my captive, too,” he pointed out.

  “Yes, but I choose to be here. I must presume my husband did not,” Juliet countered.

  “Choose? Why would you choose to be here?” one of the other men objected.

  “Yes, why would you choose to be here?” the leader asked, regarding her with patent suspicion.

  “Well, you may either believe that I have los
t my wits or that I have a proposal that will make all of us wealthy.”

  “Proposal!”

  The men scoffed. The leader stroked his chin. “You are already wealthy,” he objected.

  Juliet shrugged. “One cannot be too wealthy,” she pointed out.

  “Why do you need us?” someone demanded.

  Juliet smiled. “I am a woman. And not an overly strong one. I know where there is treasure to be found, but I shall need help in, shall we say, liberating it from its current owners?”

  They gaped at her. Understandably, she supposed, but still it was unnerving.

  “How would you know where to find treasure?” the leader scoffed.

  Juliet shrugged. “I told you I dare not let that fool of a husband of mine go out alone. He tramps across moors and pokes into caves and all sorts of odd places. Nor does he care for anything other than rocks and strange creatures and looking through lenses and such. I, on the other hand, tend to notice chests and boxes and things.”

  Her words had the ring of truth, for while it had not happened, she could well imagine James behaving in just such a way and herself stumbling over treasure chests and boxes of valuables.

  In any event, her words were sufficiently enticing for the leader to wish to believe her. “And why come to me?” he asked.

  Juliet shrugged and allowed a note of petulance to creep into her voice. “My husband has this foolish notion that one ought not to take things which belong to others. And the most distressing tendency to tell his family about what I say. So it seems to me that if I wish to profit from what I know, I need someone strong enough to help me who will not cavil at what I wish to do.”

  For a long moment the men stared at her and matters hung in the balance. Juliet held her breath. But then they laughed, starting with the leader.

  Juliet pretended to take offense at his amusement and he took a few moments to soothe her. Then, serious again, he asked the question she hoped he would ask.

  “What, precisely, do you wish from me? And what do I get in return for my help?”

  “Not a great deal,” she said, keeping her eyes on the table top, for fear she would betray herself. “Simply the help of your men to retrieve the boxes and chests and such. And I presume you would know how to dispose of them to the greatest profit to all of us. Since I know the locations, I should receive at least half of the profit and all of you may split the rest.”

  That provoked cries of outrage, as she knew it would, and quite successfully diverted their attention from any suspicions they might have. Eventually Juliet allowed herself to be bargained down to thirty percent for her share. Then, in a small voice and with a tiny frown between her eyes she said, “But you had best release my husband. If he goes missing much longer, we shall have all kinds of soldiers down upon our heads. You ought to release him and then, in a little while, I shall follow him and he need never know of our particular arrangement.”

  They didn’t like the suggestion, of course.

  “Why not just kill him and be done with it?”

  “Because,” she said, her voice harsh, “if anything happens to my husband, there are those who would never rest until they had exacted revenge on whoever was responsible.”

  “How do we know he won’t lead them straight back here?” someone else demanded.

  Juliet hesitated. How to answer that one. Then she let herself smile a sardonic smile. “My husband? Admit that he was bested? I scarcely think he would do such a thing. Not when he knows it would make him the laughingstock of all who know him. No, I can promise you he will return to our lodgings and keep everything to himself. No doubt the moment he sees me he will invent some excuse why we must leave Dover at once. He will tell no one what has occurred, I assure you. It would hurt his pride too much to do so!”

  There were still more protests, but the leader could see the merit in what she had said. Juliet suspected that he also thought he might be able to cheat her entirely of her share of the profit if she could not slip away from James long enough to claim it.

  But at last he nodded and gave the necessary orders. Then he leaned toward her, as two of his men left the room, and said softly, “Perhaps you and I ought to go upstairs and discuss this further in private.”

  Juliet’s eyes narrowed. Her first instinct was to refuse. Her second was that with the knife strapped to her thigh, she would be in no danger, and if the men thought their leader engaged in, er, discussions with her, then she might be able to slip out and make certain James was free.

  So she let her eyes widen again and she smiled and said, with a purr in her voice, “Why not?”

  Chapter 23

  James came awake with a groan. His head ached and he felt bruised, as though someone had used him none too gently. He touched a hand to his head and it came away sticky. Blood. His own, he presumed from the way he felt.

  What the devil had happened? He had been careless, obviously. Men. But who? He could think of only one group of men who might bear him ill will—the smugglers.

  He forced himself to a sitting position and groaned again with the pain. He tried to survey his surroundings. The light was dim but it seemed to James that the room was small and there were some barrels here with him. A storeroom then. If so, then sooner or later surely someone must come to replenish their supplies. He must try to be ready to escape when they did so.

  To that end, James tried to force himself to his feet. Eventually he managed to do so, even though he had to cling to the nearest barrel to keep himself from tumbling right over again.

  He risked one step, and then another. A short time later he was sufficiently stable on his feet that he was able to pace the length and breadth of his prison. For it was a prison. He had found the door and it was securely locked. The prison itself was somewhat larger than he had thought and above him he could hear sounds of merrymaking. He was probably under a tavern then.

  He thought of trying to attract attention by making noise, but he was rather dubious that anyone who favored this place would take his side rather than that of those who had brought him here. No, he’d best depend upon himself. Perhaps he could pick the lock?

  James was in the midst of just this endeavor, and he fancied he was soon to succeed, when he heard footsteps on the other side of the door. Immediately he moved a little away from the door and slumped to the floor as though he were unconsciousness.

  The door opened. A gruff voice called to him. Then a boot none too gently turned him over. He allowed himself to groan.

  Rather impatiently the other voice said, “Up on yer feet! Yer to be set free. If ye’ll go now. And right quick about it ye’d better be.”

  James didn’t quite trust the man, but the chance was too good to ignore. He let his eyes flutter open. He let himself slowly rise to a seated position. He spoke in befuddled tones as he pretended to confusion.

  “Where am I? What happened?”

  “Never mind all that. Does ye wish to go or not?”

  Now James rose to his feet, albeit he allowed himself to wobble as he did so. He touched his head with one hand. “Yes, yes, I do wish to leave,” he said.

  He allowed the other man to help support him, particularly as they negotiated the steep, narrow steps upward to street level. Only when he was safely out the back door and into the alleyway and all alone did he shake off his apparent confusion and take to his heels as rapidly as he could.

  He had gone only a short distance, two streets away perhaps, when he realized a raggedly dressed boy was keeping at his side. He frowned at the urchin.

  “Please, sir. Where is the lady?” the urchin asked, tugging at James’s coat when he slowed.

  James came to an abrupt halt. “What lady?”

  “The lady wot went to rescue you,” the urchin replied with wide open eyes.

  The boy was still holding on to James’s coat but James scarcely noticed. “Describe her to me,” he commanded.

  Juliet. It must be Juliet. The urchin’s few shrewd words confirmed t
hat. He could not fathom why she had come after him or how she had managed to find him at all. Nor by what means she had thought she could rescue him. But he was, undeniably, free.

  Immediately James turned back toward the inn. Still the urchin kept pace with him. They must have Juliet. Had she traded herself for him? The thought sent a chill straight through him. How, he wondered, was he to rescue her? Perhaps a distraction? Perhaps the boy could help?

  ———

  The leader of the smugglers gestured for Juliet to precede him into what appeared to be a private parlor. She did so, careful to put some distance between them.

  “Wine?” he asked. “Brandy, perhaps. An excellent French one, I can vouch for it personally.”

  He laughed at his own jest. Juliet tried to smile. “No, I am not thirsty, thank you.”

  He moved closer and licked his lips. “No? Mayhap you’ve other appetites you’d prefer to satisfy? Well, I’m willing, m’lady, if you is. And mayhap even if you isn’t.”

  He kept moving toward her, his intent unmistakable. Juliet moved away.

  “I thought you had matters you wished to discuss in private,” she countered.

  “These is those matters.”

  “I meant the location of the caves. The treasures,” she said, a hint of desperation in her voice.

  That did give him pause. But then he shook his head and leered. “We can talk about that after, me love,” he said, again moving toward her.

  It was time, Juliet decided, to use her knife. She bent down and, through the slit in the side of her skirt, reached for the knife strapped to her thigh.

  The smuggler laughed and Juliet froze. “I knew you was only playing shy!” he crowed in triumph.

  Suddenly a shout went up from below. “Fire! Fire!”

  “Later, me darling,” the smuggler said. “You can lift your skirts for me later. For now I’d best go find out what the trouble might be.”

  Juliet gaped after him. She wanted to protest that she would never lift her skirts for him. But she had to allow that that was how it must have looked. And before she could gather her wits, he was gone, the door slammed shut behind him. Quickly she checked. It was locked. Well, that would prove no difficulty for her! How many times, after all, had Mama locked her in to prevent her going out to the carriage house to work on things out there?