The Last Broken Promise (18 page)

“But why? Why pose as a pirate? If you’re ever captured, you could be condemned. Unless this Arthur fellow speaks for you.”

“That will never happen,” he said succinctly.

“So every time you sail, you’re risking your life?”

“I’d never thought of it in those particular terms.”

“But that’s your truth, isn’t it?” The girl began to feel queasy. “I still don’t understand why you’d risk so much for a country that’s not even your own.”

“America is my country, as much as it’s yours. I became a citizen as a homeless boy. When Arthur saved me, I became an American. It’s my home of choice, if not birth.”

“Who
is
Arthur Bassett? Besides being a government official?”

Finn kept silent. He could tell her his own secrets. But he refused to reveal the secrets of anyone else. Arthur could be marched to an English gallows, if anyone ever chanced to believe the man was more than an innocuous low-level lackey for the United States.

“He’s much more than just a Commisioner of Peace, isn’t he?”

“Arthur’s an honest man,” Finn said. And he believed that statement, for the most part. His master was a stickler for the truth. Even when the telling of it must be colored with iron-clad resolve and tainted by the making of difficult choices.

“He may be honest, but he’s certainly not a mere government official. Is he some sort of spy master?”

Jess had no inkling how true her random question was. Finn had seen lesser men blanch when asked the same sorts of questions concerning Bassett. It was a topic best fit for dark nights, and empty roads. But he didn’t cower from her curiosity.

“I’ve told you what I can, Jess. I’ve said much more than I should. You can try inquiring of any one of your brothers. They might be persuaded to be more forthcoming with information.”

Jess was confused. They’d been discussing Arthur Bassett. Now, Finn was directing her to speak with her brothers.

“My brothers would be of no help. What could they possibly know about the Commissioner of Peace?”

Again, Finn remained silent. His tawny eyes bore steadily into hers. Jess swallowed.

“Are you intimating that my brothers are… spies?” she croaked out the words.

The tall man was stoic.

Jess frantically shook her head. “That’s ridiculous. No man of honor would engage in spying.”

McLeod arched one ironic eyebrow.

Jess blushed when she realized what she’d just accused him of. She began backtracking with a vengeance. “I wasn’t speaking of you, Finn. Truly, I wasn’t. I’m sure you had good reasons for taking up such a life. It’s just that my brothers would never…”

She stopped. She knew anything she said, at this juncture, would most likely be offensive. And she had no desire to impugn his honor, in any way. Jess looked up at him, misery written plainly across her face.

“I suggest, we curtail this discussion,” he said, easing her out of her conundrum. “Your brother’s ship will catch us soon. If you want to end this farce of a betrothal, I’ll be glad of it. Griffin has the means to get you safely to Savannah. And he knows how to contact Arthur from there.”

“I don’t want to end the betrothal,” Jess said with a great deal of heat. “I don’t want to go to Savannah. I want to go to London. With. You. Not with my brother.”

Finn’s eyes looked resigned. “Arthur is in Savannah. He wrote me and told me he’d be in the United States for the next half year.”

“I’m glad Mr. Bassett is in America right now,” she said. “We need to get to him as fast as possible.”

“What are you doing, Jess?” His intense eyes bore steadily into hers. It was as if he wanted to read her very thoughts. Finally he spoke, “You know as well as I do, traveling with your brother is the better, safer choice.”

“It may be,” she agreed. “But I want to pray over my decision. So, until I know differently, I’ll be sailing with you.”

Several hours later, the sun was rising over the rough waves. It wasn’t going to be a smooth, uneventful day. Finn knew this well. Not only did they have a storm moving swiftly towards them on the horizon. But Griffin’s ship was almost within hailing distance. He only hoped his cooler head prevailed when the two ships met. Finn had worked with Griffin, with all the St. John brothers. None of them were easy. But Griffin was by far the most unreasonable. McLeod would need all his diplomatic skills to calm the privateer. He didn’t want to kill the man.

He’d been thinking about what Jess had told him that morning. He knew better than to inquire as to exactly why she was in such a hurry to get to Arthur. Men in Finn’s line of work, soon learned to hold their tongues or lose them, along with their lives. But this was the first time spying had been personal.

In the past, Finn never worried one way or the other about what happened to those impacted by his work. As long as the job got done, he didn’t much care who got hurt. But this time, he did care. He cared too much for his own comfort.

He was glad Jess had chosen to stay below decks. He didn’t want her to witness the confrontation that was sure to erupt. As soon as Griffin set foot aboard his ship, a brawl would break out. He knew this. Because, if someone like him took possession of one of his own female relatives, he’d spill some blood retrieving his kinswoman. He would expect no less from any of the St. John brothers. Though Dylan would, most likely, inquire as to the facts before he began killing. Connor would only devolve into a grinning savage.

Finn shuddered. He remembered the first time he’d fought beside the middle St. John brother. It was a bloodbath. The deck of his ship had resembled nothing so much as a slaughter house. Connor learned the meting out of justice, Indian-style, as a stripling. He always reverted to those techniques, in the heat of battle.

“Griffin is almost upon us,” Jess commented. She walked up to him. She shaded her eyes with one hand while she looked towards her brother’s ship.

“You need to get below,” he answered, not looking over at her.

His eyes were trained upon the Griffin’s ship. It was so close. Now he didn’t need a glass to see the distinctive griffin flag it flew.

“I’ve been below. It’s stuffy and cramped down there,” she complained.

“It’s safe,” he argued. “And it’s easy to defend.”

“Surely you don’t believe my brother would hurt me?”

Finn snickered. “He’ll most likely want to tan your hide. Just like I do, most of the time.”

“You’d better get that evil thought right out of your mind, Lord Maitland.” The girl sniffed. “I’m a grown woman. And even though the law says women are no better than chattel, I would never allow such an indignity.”

“What makes you think you could stop me?” he asked just to goad her.

Her trill of laughter surprised him. “You boast of your warrior’s skills. But I know who you truly are. You’re a kind and gentle man.”

“I’ll thank you to keep your misguided opinions to yourself. I am not kind,” he spat out the words. A grimace twisted his face. “And I’m not gentle. I’d kill a man for making such an outrageous and slanderous statement.”

Jess smiled at his bluster. She reached over and patted his arm. Then she compounded her offense by smiling up at him. “You’ve always been gentle and kind with me.” She thought for a minute then she revised her statement. “Well, almost always.”

“I’ve told you why,” he gritted out. “Don’t throw my weakness in my face, chit. The veneer covering my true nature is exceedingly thin.”

“You deem it weakness to be human?”

“I deem it folly for you to be having this conversation with me on the deck of my ship in full view of not only my crew, but your demon brother.”

“Griffin’s not the demon one. That’s Connor. I thought you said you knew my brothers? No one who knows them could mistake the fact that Connor is by far the most bloodthirsty.”

He snorted in derision. “That idiotic statement shows how little you know them.”

Jess’s eyes narrowed. “Be careful who you insult, Lord Maitland. The brother you fear so much will be aboard this vessel within the hour.”

“I never said I feared him,” Finn answered with a sour tone. “I don’t fear any of your siblings. I’m just careful around them. Especially Griffin for he’s the most lethal.”

“Lethal?” she wondered aloud. “I don’t see how you can say such a thing. He may occasionally erupt in ill temper. But for the most part, Griffin is mild and meek. He’s a charming man.”

Finn smothered his guffaw. If he was any judge, he’d say Griffin was the most deceptive. Especially if the man had his baby sister believing he was charing. The Griffin St. John he knew was ever a simmering volcano.

“Are you laughing at me, again?” she demanded.

Jess crossed her arms. She began tapping one foot. Perhaps Griffin was not the only volcano poised on the precipice of eruption in the St. John family.

Finn shook his head. “I don’t laugh at you. That would be ungentlemanly. I’m merely amused by your bird-witted opinions.”

Her eyes narrowed. She began to speak, but he cut her off.

“I suggest we cry peace. If you’re intent on fooling your family into thinking we are betrothed, we’ll need to project a more congenial façade.”

“Congenial façade?” Jess didn’t like the sound of that.

Finn nodded. “You’re going to need to summon up the strength to at least act as if you can tolerate my presence.”

“I’m not going to slavishly hang on your every word. If that’s what you’re hinting at, it won’t work.”

“Slavish devotion is out of the question,” he agreed.

Jess looked instantly relieved until he finished speaking.

“For both of us. I’m a spy, who can conceal the truth. But a performance of that magnitude would surely be worthy of a Drury Lane theater. Let’s strive for simple civility, shall we?. And perhaps the odd gesture of affection,” he suggested.

“My brothers would never believe a false, saccharine affection, such as you propose. They’re far too intelligent. And they know me too well to swallow such drivel.”

“And let’s not forget the fact that they’re all spies,” he added with a rakish twinkle in his eye.

This time it was Jess’s turn to sniff in disbelief. “So you claim. Though I am not convinced of that fact.”

“I’ve told you I won’t lie to you.”

“I remember. But I’m sure there have been many occasions where you’ve embroidered upon the truth.”

He had no answer to her supposition. For it was entirely correct. He hadn’t outright lied to her. But he’d played fast and free with his ability to omit details without causing suspicions.

“Cat got your tongue, Lord Maitland?” she inquired with a cloying benevolence.

“Jess, we need to come to some kind of terms before your brother hoists himself aboard and insists upon trying to murder me.”

That sobered her considerably. “You’re right, of course. I can comply with your suggestion of civility. But I want to know exactly what you meant when you mentioned affection.”

Finn scowled down at her. “I’m not asking for the license to ravish you, if that’s what you’re hinting at. I thought I might hold your hand. And perhaps give you an occasional chaste kiss on the cheek. That should suffice.”

“A chaste kiss?” she mocked. “Like the one we shared earler?”

His frown deepened into a scowl. “We agreed not to mention that occasion, did we not? And I find upon further time spent in your company, I can easily exert some modicum of self-control in regards to you. After giving it thought, I’m convinced that kiss was nothing more than an aberration.”

“An aberration?”

“Yes, an aberration.”

“I’m not sure whether to be flattered or offended.”

“You should be neither. Let me be brutally transparent. What we need to have is a working relationship.”

“Like the ones you’ve had, in the past, with your… female colleagues?”

Finn knew this was a trap, one of his own making. If he answered honestly, she’d know he’d been forced to play the romantic suitor to other women. This would, of course, lead her to wonder exactly how far he’d been willing to engage those women to maintain his ruse. If he didn’t tell Jess the truth, and all of it, he would be doing precisely what he’d just claimed he’d never do with her, lying.

“Yes,” he acknowledged. “And I’ve also manipulated unwary women for the crucial knowledge they possessed. Though the posing between you and I would be entirely innocent.”

“Unlike your previous
working relationships
?”

“I’m not proud of my past, Jess,” he replied quietly.

“Just answer the question.”

She kept her body completely still. Unlike her mind which was spinning and reeling out of control. So much was dependent upon his answer. The very landscape of her future teetered on what he’d say next. Because Jess St. John loved this man. This complicated and dark man who unknowingly held her trembling heart in his hands. How could she vow to love and cleave to a man who would sully not only his body, but his very soul just to accomplish a task? And how could she ever trust him not to do such a thing again, upon the orders of the martinet, Arthur Bassett?

Finn ran a searching hand up her arm. He laid it upon the soft juncture of her throat and shoulder. A rough, calloused thumb strummed her pulse, beating so quickly, there. He would do anything to spare her pain. And maybe he was fooling himself to even think the details of his licentious past would cause her a moment’s discomfort. He hoped and prayed that was indeed the case. For he could not lie to this woman. He could not.

“If you’re asking whether I lay with any of those women,” he said with a deep graveness. “Then the answer is, unequivocally, yes. Sometimes I was forced to be caught in compromising situations with female spies. It never meant anything, to either of us. It was merely part and parcel of the job.”

“And the other unwary ladies?”

“Jess, it was much the same. I can feign almost any emotion. It’s a fundamental skill for those who intrigue for a living.”

“I fear I should take that as a warning,” she whispered.

“No, you should not,” he grated out. “I have said I’ll never lie to you nor intentionally hurt you in any way. I meant what I said.”

“But you could be lying at this very moment. If you are as skilled as you claim. Our whole acquaintance could be built upon a lie. Were you in the gaol on purpose, just to intercept me?”

He forced her chin up. He stared deeply into her troubled eyes. “I have made an occupation of deception. That is, of course, true. But it’s also true that I feel something for you that I’ve never felt for any other. Something deep and powerful. I would never lie to you, Jess. Else why wouldn’t I make up some happy fiction to tell you now?”

Jess stepped back. “But how could you do…
that
with someone you didn’t love?”

Finn’s face was a mask of resolve. If he’d ever wondered at her purity, her telling remark would have informed him of all he needed to know about Jess St. John and her innocence.

“Jess, I’ve had to learn to disconnect my feelings from the task at hand.”

And that, too, was the awful truth. He’d learned at least one hundred ways to kill by the time he was sixteen. By the time he was twenty, he’d used them all. He’d been schooled in the arts of the bedroom by one of Arthur’s cohorts. The woman was the madam of London’s most notorious house of ill repute. His early rural forays into sensuality had quickly been eclipsed by methodical, unemotional skill. He’d been taught to influence women with every asset at his disposal, including his body and his charm. And he’d been exceptionally good at his lessons.

“Arthur Bassett made you a whore,” she accused.

“I embraced that role myself. Do not blame Arthur. I could always have said no.”

“Then why didn’t you? Why didn’t you turn your back on him and his fiendish spying?” Tears were streaming down her pale cheeks.

“I made a vow to him. A promise that I couldn’t break. He saved me, Jess. He saved me from the gallows or worse. And even if you are a virgin, you must know there are worse things than death. Especially for foolish lads from the country with too much hair and not enough wit.” He willed her to understand what he was saying.

“But his help came with a price, Finn. An awful, awful price.”

“A price, I might remind you, that your brothers also saw fit to pay.”

“No, I don’t believe you,” she whispered. “I can’t believe you. They wouldn’t do those things.” She frantically shook her head.

He caught hold of her shoulders when she tried to dash off. “Jess, your brothers are not tainted. It’s different for a man,” he tried to explain.

She blazed up at him. “There is no difference in morality. Every person is responsible for their own sin. Every person must make an account before God.”

“Then you pray to a vengeful God?”

“No, I love a merciful Lord. He will forgive, if we confess and repent.”

He pulled her tightly against his body. “Then I confess to every black deed and every carnal sin in my life. If it will give you peace, I’ll confess to such as would make a saint blush. Just for you, Jess. Just to give you a moment’s ease.”