A Thoroughly Compromised Lady (13 page)

‘Where
are we going?' Dulci asked again, her trepidation growing in the absence of a direct answer. For all her love of adventure, Jack knew this news met with a burgeoning sense of panic on her part and rightly so. She'd been pulled from bed and forced to flee her home.

‘We are going to British Guiana to save your neck and to save my reputation.' His plan had been instantaneous and the best he could do under short notice.

Dulci sank back against the seat, letting the shock of the news settle over her in waves. Jack watched her closely. Maybe the past few days had been too much. He supposed even Dulci must have limits.

‘Don't worry, Jack, I won't go to pieces on you,' she said with her best ballroom
élan
.

Jack smiled broadly in relief. ‘I never thought you would, m'dear.'

‘In that case, don't you think you'd better tell me all about the danger? I've run through the night with you
and beyond my misplaced affections for you, I still don't know why.' Dulci's blue eyes sparked deliciously in the dim confines of the hackney. Trust his Dulci to maintain her sense of humour and wit in the face of crisis. Jack decided then and there that describing imminent peril to a woman one has just rescued was a deuced awkward time to be aroused. But Jack could do nothing about it. He was unmistakably aroused.

He'd like nothing better than to throw her across the carriage seat and take her before they reached the docks, but they weren't out of trouble yet. They were merely in a hiatus and so his desire would have to be put on hold as well until they were safely ensconced on board his Majesty's ship and out to sea. Then he'd have weeks stretching before him with nothing else to do.

Jack reached inside his coat and pulled the note. He passed it to Dulci. ‘This is what brought me rushing to your side.'

Dulci scanned it; the note was brief and overt in its purpose. ‘Ortiz, I assume? He thought to abduct me in order to gain a confession from you.' She folded the note and handed it back to him.

‘It would have been a very private form of blackmail.' The unspoken details of Ortiz's intentions created lurid images best left unexplored in Jack's mind: Dulci taken unawares by rough invaders in her home, spirited away to some secret location and held there until he capitulated to Ortiz's request for a confession to the heinous activities Ortiz had charged him with. What choice would he have? He could not go to anyone for help without jeopardising Dulci's reputation, whether or not anything sinister occurred.

He could only guess what Ortiz might deign to put
Dulci through; the man clearly coveted her. Jack had seen the desire rise in the man's eyes the first night, before any of these contretemps had begun. The man clearly detested him. Lust for Dulci and dislike of him was a powerful combination, which might motivate all nature of sins.

And, of course, if Ortiz held Dulci, it would be an effective tool for keeping Jack in England. If Ortiz knew Dulci was worth ransoming, he would also know Jack could never leave her behind.

Yet was taking Dulci with him any better? It saved her from the terrors of abduction, but it might also have only put off the inevitable: Dulci teetered on the brink of social disaster. The Incomparable was about to fall, something petty-minded débutantes and jealous matrons with daughters to marry off had secretly wished for years. If not tonight, then later, when it was learned she had accompanied a man unchaperoned, not even with a maid, to British Guiana. A lone, unmarried woman on a ship manned by males, into a brutal, savage land, was not something society could overlook and he would be the instrument of her downfall.

After years of wild living and questionable escapades she'd managed to carry off with discreet aplomb, her fall would be by his hand. She would hate him when she realised what he had done. Still, he reasoned it was better to have a bridge to cross later than a bridge already burned.

Jack peered out of the small window. The environs hailed their approach to the dock district. He tensed, wondering if they should get out and walk the rest of the distance to the ship. Two lone figures in the dark could slip and slide among the shadows, hardly noticeable. But
they'd also be prey for other lone figures that could also slip among the shadows. He hadn't come this far today to end up skewered in the stews. If no one had picked up their hackney yet, they'd be better off to stay with it.

‘You're smiling.' Dulci's eyes narrowed in suspicion.

‘I'm thinking about how I've lived much longer than I expected today.'

‘That's not funny, Jack. Why do you suppose Ortiz hates you so much?'

‘I am all that stands between him and success. As long as I am a legitimate player in this game, he cannot have what he wants. I know the territory he wants to claim. He had not counted on that. He'd expected everyone in London to have only a two-dimensional understanding from mediocre maps, that we'd all be easy to trick. It's why the negotiations are happening here and not with the governor—too many experts there. Secondly, I caught him at his trick. We found his map before he could introduce it, so his hand was forced.'

‘But his story is stupid,' Dulci said frankly. ‘By blaming you for trying to frame him with a bad map, he has taken away his chance to claim the land he wants. He's admitted the boundaries are false, merely put there to induce a war.'

Jack smiled. ‘Well, he has ruined his chances in that regard. All he can do now is cover his tracks. He's desperate to keep me in the country because if I go, I might find the proof that he deliberately paid someone for a faulty map and then there will be no place for him and his tattered honour to hide. I do imagine Ortiz will
have many enemies if the full extent of his shenanigans comes out.'

‘So now he's a desperate man.'

‘Very much so.'

Dulci mused out loud, ‘That will make him more dangerous, more unpredictable.'

‘That's been my experience when it comes to desperate men.' Jack was grim. The next step was gaining the ship without mishap. Ortiz had eyes and ears everywhere. If he knew Jack was leaving and knew that the ruse to snatch Dulci had failed, the man might make a last stand at the wharves. So far, they'd encountered no one, but why chase them through London if Ortiz knew their final destination?

He could not reconnoitre in the hackney. It was time to get out and walk and plan. Jack banged on the side of the carriage. ‘We'll get out here.'

The stench of the docks was over powering. The smell of fish, fresh or otherwise, mingled with other unsavoury odours created when the scents of sea and land combine. Beside him, Dulci tried unsuccessfully to look unaffected. He laughed and handed her his hand kerchief. ‘Apparently the docks you visit don't stink.'

Dulci tossed him a nasty look, but she didn't cringe. He gave her credit for that, but by God she'd stick out like a virgin in a whore house just by nature; her proud carriage, the haughty cock of her head, marked her as a lady of the highest reaches. He would need to address that immediately. Fine clothes, both his and hers, could be covered with cloaks. Manners could be masked. It was time to get to work.

‘Come on, Dulci, we're going shopping.' The look on
her face was price less. There was something to be said for keeping Dulci Wycroft off balance.

‘Here?' For all her bravado, she couldn't keep her eyes from wandering to the nearby building fronts, none of which looked like a suitable place for the purchase of haberdashery.

Jack reached for her hand. ‘I've always imagined you'd be a fine actress if given the chance, m'dear.'

Jack steered them towards a ram shackle building full of light and noise in spite of the hour nearing three in the morning. Men spilled from the building, rough men, with gin on their breaths and bawdy women on their arms. Jack didn't want to go in. He was looking for a hanger-on, a gin whore on a side street near the establishment. He found one huddled in the alley. ‘Perfect,' he muttered under his breath to no one in particular. But Dulci heard him.

‘Depends on one's perception.'

‘Stay here.' Jack left Dulci at the mouth of the alley. He'd have to work quickly to ensure no one stumbled across Dulci alone.

‘Good evening.' Jack approached the doxy, dazzling her with a smile while trying to overlook the fetid odour of her and the stink of drink.

She was all immediate attention, able to recognise Jack as a fine gentleman even in a drunken stupor. She swayed her hips, a hand moving to undo the string of her blouse and show off the jiggling cleavage further. ‘What can I do you for, guv'nor? You're a handsome one, aren't you? Perhaps I could do you for free?'

‘You are kindness itself, good woman. I am only looking for a cloak. Might I buy yours?' Jack rolled a gleaming coin across his knuckles.

She eyed it enviously, already calculating the cloak's worth against the amount of gin she could purchase with such a coin. ‘You can have the cloak. Are you sure there's nothing else you want?'

 

‘The cloak reeks!' Dulci held the offending garment away from herself.

‘Put it on. We've got another stop to make. This is nothing. We're just getting started.' Jack gave her an infuriating wink. The damnable man was enjoying this!

‘You might not enjoy this so much when you hear what I have to say.' Dulci reluctantly shrugged into the cloak, understanding the necessity for it. ‘A group of men in official-looking uniforms passed by. They weren't British. It sounded like they may have been speaking Spanish. They can't stop the ship from sailing, can they, Jack? They wouldn't have any authority over a British ship departing from a British port.'

Jack shook his head. ‘No, they can't stop the ship. You're right, they have no jurisdiction over it.'

‘But they could stop
us
,' Dulci replied quietly. She saw immediately what Jack had omitted from his answer. If there was a warrant to detain Jack over a diplomatic concern, Ortiz could certainly raise a big enough fuss to have him removed from the ship; legalities of such an action could be sorted out later if enough paper and permits were waved in a chaotic situation.

‘They could stop
me
. They couldn't stop you. There's no reason to stop you, you're a free citizen able to come and go as you please.' Jack gripped her shoulders. ‘This is no time for heroics, Dulci. Promise me you will get on that ship and stay on it no matter what.'

Dulci wanted to protest, but the truth was that she'd put Jack in more danger if she didn't get on the ship. It wasn't her nature to leave someone behind, but she would not risk another unnecessarily if she could do something to prevent it. ‘I hope it doesn't come to that,' she said solemnly.

‘It won't, I have a plan.' Jack's levity returned. ‘We're going inside that brothel over there. Stay close to me and don't take that cloak off. We're going in through the kitchen entrance at the back but still, we've got enough chances to take tonight without adding another one.'

 

Ten minutes later, Jack thrust a bundle of clothes at her. ‘Put these on. You can use the bathing screen over there. Be quick.'

‘At least these don't smell like gin.' Dulci shot Jack a displeased look.

She could do this, she told herself. She was brave. She could fence, she could take her carriage alone to warehouses on the docks, she'd participated in count less feats of daring, she could certainly do this.

Dulci slid the cheap satiny gown over her head, her hands shaking as she did up the ribbon lacing in front. This was about real danger, this was not like her other dares. Nothing more than easily replaced guineas were at stake then. The dress fit well enough for its purpose although the bodice was tight and far too revealing, her breasts pushed up high to show all but their tips.

Dulci folded her clothes and stepped around the screen, determined to make light of the gown, but she didn't get a single joke past her lips. The sight of Jack trans formed was enough to render her speech less.

A common sailor stood before her in ragged trousers
and blowsy shirt that must have been white years ago. A patch covered one green eye, soot from the hearth shadowed his jaw and darkened his winter-wheat hair. She would not have recognised him if it hadn't been for the careless smile he gave her. She took a step towards him and wrinkled her nose. ‘You smell terrible.'

‘Ready for a night on the town with ole Jackie, me luv?' Jack replied, stuffing their clothes into a bag. He laid some coins on the kitchen table and thanked the cook who'd sent him upstairs for the garments.

‘I liked you better when you were a gentleman,' the cook groused when Jack bent to give her a playful kiss.

‘Me too,' Jack answered heartily, sweeping Dulci out into the street and closing the door behind him.

‘Pink becomes you, Dulci. You look right fetching in that gown. Perhaps you can make it the latest rage.' Jack leaned on her, causing both of them to stumble like drunks.

‘Don't tease me, Jack,' Dulci hissed. ‘Anyone looking at me can practically see every inch of my “bountiful charms”. And I'm cold.'

‘All the better to see you, m'dear,' Jack drawled, pointedly fixing his gaze on the imprint of erect nipples beneath the cheap cloth.

Dulci swatted at him. ‘I am in no mood for your sordid jokes.' She made to draw the gin-soaked cloak closer about her.

‘Don't you dare, Dulci,' Jack cautioned. ‘Your bountiful charms are going to be our salvation. If everyone's looking at them, they won't be thinking about us.'

‘It's not funny, Jack.'

Jack winked with his one ‘good eye'. ‘Of course it is, there's something funny in everything.'

But neither of them was laughing when they approached the ship. With an hour to go before it sailed, the docks around the boat were bustling with activity. Men strode up and down the gang plank with last-minute supplies. Early morning vendors were preparing for a new day of business. Fishermen were beginning to come in from night fishing with the day's catch. Fishwives and doxies roamed among the men. Drunkards and whores stumbled home to sleep off excesses. Amid the bustle, Ortiz's men stood at attention, questioning those who went past. To Dulci's eye, going unnoticed looked daunting and nigh on impossible.