CHAPTER SIXTEEN

 

Justin was kissing her. His hands were on her breasts, teasing soft, quivery whimpers out of her arched throat when an insistent knock shook the thin wooden panel of the door.

Justin's head jerked up instantly, leaving China to gasp, "Who--?"

He pressed a finger over her lips, cautioning her to silence. He was off the bed and standing by the door, a pistol raised and cocked before she could scramble fully upright.

"Who is it?" Justin asked.

"Me. Ted Bates."

Justin eased from his stance. The pistol was returned to the top of the bed stand and he yanked opened the door without any apparent concern for his state of undress.

"You had better have a damned good reason for interrupting, Mr. Bates."

"We've got trouble. Bad trouble."

Justin opened the door wider. China cried out a protest and dove under the covers, pulling the sheets up until just her eyes and the tip of her nose were exposed. The newcomer barely glanced her way before launching into an urgent, muffled conversation. She could not hear much of what was said, but from the increasingly black look on Justin's face, she presumed the news was, indeed, not good.

When Bates ran out of words and breath, Justin continued to stare at him in disbelief.

"Did you hear what I said?" Bates asked, louder this time. "We've only got a few minutes before the cobbers get here and you had best not be within spitting distance when they do. We have to get away, back to the ship'd be the safest. They won't dare search for you there, not if we put men on the docks. They'll need to work up a bit o' courage before they come searching on board the Reunion."

"You said murder. Are you certain of it?"

"Aye, it were murder. And your brother has posted a reward of a hundred quid on your head."

"Ranulf!" Justin was jolted a second time. "Ranulf has posted a reward?"

"Aye. Dead or alive, he's not particular."

The two men heard a startled cry and turned. Justin, at any rate, had totally forgotten about China.

"What has happened? What is he talking about? Why has Ranulf--?"

"Never mind that. You need to get dressed. Now. Quickly! I don't have time to explain anything, but we have to get out of here." He started pulling on his breeches. "Ted, I'll have to trust you to see that she gets away safely. Fuck!" He stopped and looked at China again. "You said you left a note telling Ran you were leaving...where were you planning to go if you couldn't find me?"

"I...I have friends. The Pickthalls. They will take me in."

"Okay, Pickthalls it is, you should be safe enough there."

"Sir." Ted Bates leaned forward with a cautionary look on his grizzled face. "You might not want to be doing that. Not just yet anyroad. At least half a hundred folk saw her come in here. They heard her name clear as a bell and they saw her come up the stairs two hours ago and not come down again. Lord Cross won't be too pleased with that, not one bit. He'll be wantin' to ask her all manner of questions."

"Damnation! You're right, of course." Justin raked his fingers through his hair and turned to China again. "You will have to come with us, for the time being anyway. Quickly now. Finish dressing."

Since she had not even started, there was an added bite to his voice and China was spurred into action. She dragged half the bedding with her as she plucked her clothing off the floor. The men, thankfully, moved out to the hallway to afford her a bit of modest privacy and she could hear them talking, planning, debating, deciding what to do.

Justin was being sought for murder? Who was he supposed to have killed? And when?

Her fingers froze on the buttons of her bodice.

The pie man! Oh my good sweet God, the pie man is dead!

Ranulf must have found out about the attack outside the inn the other night and was now making good on his threat to deal with Justin as he saw fit.

The low murmur of voices stopped and Justin came back into the room. He was fully dressed but for his coat, which he pulled on with an obvious wince after tucking a long-snouted pistol into his waistband. His arm, bandaged and seemingly of small concern throughout their lovemaking, was showing fresh spots of red through the cotton. He glanced hastily around the room, spied the one thing he wanted from amongst his scattered possessions, then grabbed China's cloak off the chair and bundled it around her shoulders. As he fastened the woven frog under her chin he smiled crookedly.

"You said you did not care what things you might learn about me. I hope you meant it, because I'm afraid you are about learn a great deal more than you bargained for."

China had no response. She felt his lips brush over hers briefly but it was a quick, perfunctory gesture. Her cloak was still damp from the soaking earlier and sat heavy on her shoulders, but she did not think that was the only thing weighing her down at the moment. If it was indeed the pie man who had died of his injuries, then she, China Grant, was once more the cause of all Justin's troubles.

She was not given time to dwell on it. Justin hustled her out the door, sandwiching her between himself and Ted Bates as they went down the steps and through the crowded tavern.

 

~~

 

In the span of an hour, China was rushed from the most pleasurable experience of her young life into the most terrifying. The rain had not let up since her arrival at the Boar's Head Inn, and in the end, this is what saved Justin Cross.

The sheeting downpour had turned the normally slippery, garbage-strewn street into a muddy bog. Visibility was reduced to a few paces and anyone foolish enough to be out were running bent over under hoods, dashing from door to door, niche to niche. China was hooded in a similar fashion and drew no overt attention. Justin and Ted Bates turned the collars of their coats high and wore flat brimmed hats down low over their foreheads.

They had just stepped outside and were dashing for the closest alleyway when two dark coaches came clattering up the street and stopped in front of the inn. Black-caped constables erupted from the coaches and ducked into the Boar's Head. One of them happened to glance in the direction Justin and the others had gone, but the rain was so heavy, he dismissed the blurred figures as being too much trouble to follow. Besides, they were looking for one man, not two men and a woman.

"Shite," Ted Bates grunted. "We didn't get out of there a lick too soon."

Justin grinned his agreement. Two narrow streets over they hailed a hansom and squeezed inside, dripping rain and smelling of wet wool.

China's face was shiny wet, her hair, which had lost its combs, hung in straggly wet strands from the hood.

"Are you all right?" Justin asked. "I apologize if I was a little brusque back there."

She shook her head. "I am fine. I just wish I knew what was happening."

"Soon enough," Justin said, touching her cheek. "Soon enough." He then turned to Ted Bates. "Is Mr. East on board?"

"Aye. It'll be his watch. I sent a runner and he'll have rousted the lads by now unless they're all drunk as a mother's tit--beg pardon ma'am."

"On board?" China gasped. "You are taking me on board a slaver?"

"The Reunion is not a slaver," Justin countered evenly, "despite my brother's accusations. She has carried a clean cargo for the past six years. Before that, it was none of my affair, but half the ships currently in the harbor may be said to have once traded in human cargo."

"Coming up on the wharf," Bates said, peering through the leather curtain. As the hansom rolled to a halt, he jammed his hat down further and leaped out first into the teeming rain. "You and the lady wait here. I'll see about the boat."

He vanished into the gray rain and the cab driver slid open the window.

"Ain't got all day to sit."

The two silver coins Justin passed through the trap were met with a muttered, "Aye, take all day if ye like."

The trap slid shut again and they were alone with only the sound of the rain drumming steadily on the roof.

"Your wound is bleeding again," China said softly.

Justin glanced down at his arm. Rain had soaked through his coat and leaked a dark pink stain onto his wrist. It was the least of his worries.

"I...suppose I shall be meeting the infamous Captain Savage?" China said, talking to quell her nervousness.

"I can see no way to avoid it."

China bit her lip. "Won't he mind you bringing a woman on board his ship? I was under the impression women were bad luck on sailing vessels."

"A groundless superstition," Justin smiled faintly. "Some of the most famous and dangerous privateers were women. You've heard of the Dantes, I presume?"

She nodded, recalling childhood stories of the famous family of privateers, the matriarch Isabeau Dante and her daughter, Juliet, both of whom plagued the Spanish shipping lanes for decades.

Another few moments of silence passed, with Justin obviously eager to be out of the coach and off the wharf.

"Could we not just go to the magistrate ourselves? If I explain how it happened, how you were only trying to defend me..."

Justin's eyes narrowed as he stared at her.

"...surely they will believe the two of us," she finished lamely.

"Defending you? What the devil are you talking about?"

"That is what you were doing. I would not call it murder to defend oneself against five ruffians wielding blades and clubs under a dark bridge. You had no choice but to kill the pie man."

Sudden comprehension cleared the frown from his brow. "You think I am being accused of murdering the pie man?"

China nodded. "Aren't you?"

Justin almost laughed. "There isn't a thief the likes of Tim Pitts that the king's men wouldn't gladly pay to be rid of, let alone spare a second thought on. No, my lovely one, I'm being accused of murdering a young woman last night. Of beating her to death."

China felt every last shred of warmth in her body shiver away. "A young woman? What young woman? When? And why would someone suspect you of murdering her?"

He exhaled a breath laden with his own confusion. "The why of it, I don't know, but someone visited her late last night. Someone who used my name. She was found this morning and taken to Our Sisters of Diving Mercy Hospital where she died a short time later. Not before managing to whisper my name to the nurse. I must assume, since that is the hospital where Ranulf works, he was informed of the death as well as the name of the assailant."

China shook her head. "No. No, why would Ranulf think that of you?"

"After that pretty little scene in the breakfast room this morning, I expect he would be willing...nay, eager...to believe anything. I am certain he is still convinced it was me who tried to rob him again last night."

"But...you were with me last night. I will explain it to him...to anyone for that matter, that you were with me last night."

"Valiantly trying to kill the pie man?"

Her face fell and he instantly regretted the sarcasm. He took her hands into his. "I appreciate your willingness to help, truly I do. But you cannot attest to where I was after I left you. It was barely gone six o'clock. I could have met with the girl and beaten her at my leisure either before or after I attempted to rob Ranulf on Mayberry Bridge."

"But if you didn't do it--?"

"If...I didn't do it?"

"Oh Justin, I'm not doubting you, not for a moment."

Anger struck a tic high on his cheek. "But you would like to hear me say it anyway? Very well...I did not do it. I did not kill the woman nor did I meet with Ranulf on Mayberry Bridge."

"Justin, please I did not for an instant think--"

Her apology was interrupted by the sound of hasty footsteps splashing toward the coach. A moment later the door swung open and Ted Bates' soaked head poked through.

"Right, sir. The dory is ready and waiting, with six stout lads to row you across to the ship. Mr. East was ashore too, as it happens, ferrying the last of the powder across before it got blow'd away. Hold the lady tight; the wharf is slick from the waves bashing across and you'd not want to see her washed off into the sea."

Judging by the look on Justin's face, China thought he just might like to see that.

Justin stepped out into the rain and held his hand out to help her.

This is it, she thought. If I go with him now, there is no turning back.

"China?"

She fit her hand into his and pulled the hood lower on her face to block out the driving rain. Justin's arm circled her waist as they ran for the dock, thankfully bypassing a flock of small, violently bobbing dinghies for a sturdier looking longboat. There were six figures huddled over the oars, two of which she recognized briefly from the men who had been with Justin at the armory yesterday.

"Oars away, Mr. East," Justin shouted.

A tall, barrel-chested man touched his forelock and grinned. "Aye, Sar. You'll 'ave the deck underfoot in the time it takes you to fart 'God Save the King'!"

Justin swung China deftly off the dock and into the boat. East caught a glimpse of a slim ankle and long black hair streaming out from under the hood of the cloak and his jaw dropped.

"Indeed," Justin said. "Perhaps we will just hum a few bars if it's all the same to you."

"Aye Sar. Up the oars boys, bend yer backs to it."

The crossing was rough. The waves chopped and slapped at the boat, swamping it with whitecaps and foam. China could see nothing through the opaque curtain of rain. How the bo'sun knew where he was going, she did not know. He leaned over the tiller like a drowning sheepdog, grunting every now and then as he altered their course a point or two.

Once out into the open water, the boat was tossed from the top of one wave, sliding into the trough of the next, and by the time the ghostly shape of a ship emerged from the haze ahead of them, China was struggling hard to keep her belly from surging up into her throat.

She was green and near fainting from the nausea by the time the boat bumped into the hull of something solid. Rising out of the water beside them was an enormous tower of weathered planking, masts, and furled sail. The boat was tied off to the base of the ladder that led up and over the side. Justin braced himself with one foot on the lowest rung and one on the side of the longboat, then reached for China.

She managed to make it to her feet before her stomach lost the battle and a wave lifted the boat, pitching her forward over the side.