Page 26 of Undoubtedly Reckless (Rebel by Night #2)

Twelfth Night

Roland watched their approach to the island of Jersey from the south, grim and itching for a fight.

Sabina’s kidnappers had used privateers, men Roland knew from his own privateering days. Those men lived on the island of Jersey, where most British privateers operated from. Some privateers made themselves available for unsavory hire between sailing, a tendency Roland never judged them for. Sailing was an uncertain profession.

The ship they had taken Sabina on was meant for shorter voyages. It could not comfortably make the voyage to Amsterdam. Roland was almost certain they would go to Jersey first to change over to a larger vessel. Aria and Tristan had remained in London to arrange another ship to sail for Amsterdam in case Roland was wrong, but he knew in his bones that Sabina was on this island.

He knew Jersey, intimately. He had lived on this island more than anywhere else in the past ten years. The harbor was at the capitol of St. Helier, at the south of the island, where Roland’s crew had been based. He could get aid and weapons there. Remy would find out where Sabina’s uncle was holding her.

In the early cover of morning, they had curiously passed several French ships and two wrecks on the way to St. Heliers. Any British sailor making for the Channel Islands knew the routes, and more to the point, the French were not welcome to a Crown dependency that catered to British privateers.

“A French attack?”

Oliver squinted as they made anchor at their normal dock in St. Helier. “After the last debacle? What are they thinking?”

“Sounds like a drunken decision to me, what with it being Twelfth Night and all,”

Remy said, and went to find his contacts for information.

“There weren’t that many. Did you see they landed in Grouville?”

Roland said, thinking of the number of French troops who seemed to have anchored near the town to the east of St. Helier. “They cannot seriously mean to take Jersey from us.”

Oliver shrugged and returned to managing the crew.

As much as Roland hated to admit it, Oliver was a better sailor and captain than he ever was. The crew roundly ignored their former captain, which was best for all, and Roland could not find it in him to begrudge them. They had their livelihoods to look to, after all.

However, Ariadne was his. He would not give up his ship, but when they returned to London, he would offer Oliver a different ship.

Roland pondered St. Helier in the morning light. The houses of alternating colors remained the same, as did the cobblestoned streets and the smell of sea brine. It felt so perfect to be at sea again. That was who he was, a man of the sea, not some ape in velvet to swan about seeking the approval of a society that offered him nothing of worth.

However, that was not what Sabina needed, what Audrika needed. Her name didn’t matter. She needed to be rescued from her uncle and then he would give her all she deserved, a home and security. He had left Romney Marsh for the adventure, he could admit that now. The letters of marque were an excuse to see what lay in the world beyond Kent. Aria was right, the little pain, and he would tell her that when he returned with Sabina.

Roland could not fail. Sabina must live.

Remy returned to Ariadne with several men and chests.

“They’re at a residence rented in St. Helier. My sources report that a woman matching Sabina’s description was escorted this morning to a blue house with red shutters that is sometimes rented by Dutch traders,”

Remy reported.

“I know it,”

Oliver said. “It’s in the very center of St. Helier. Out of curiosity, Jack, do you have a plan?”

“I’m going to kick down the door and go through every room until I find Sabina and bring her back to safety,”

Roland said grimly. Remy groaned.

“God save me from reckless Darewoods,”

Remy muttered. “Your sister is a better tactician than you.”

“Which sister?”

Roland asked absently, his mind on the amount of munitions available for their use. Ariadne was always well-equipped, but they would have to raid the weapon storage of a friend nearby. One could not pull cannons through the streets of St. Helier.

“Either. Both.”

Remy waved his hands as if swatting flies. “We will look for a break in their security, because if you remember how we were severely beaten by large Dutchmen last night, there will be guards. We will quietly enter through whatever entrance is least guarded and search for Mrs. Kembrooke in that fashion. No kidnapping or beating people unless absolutely necessary.”

“Good plan.”

Oliver nodded. “My crew is at your disposal. I have pistols and swords.”

“Tell your men there will be a woman there. Her name is Sabina Kembrooke. She is also called Audrika Van Dellen, but will respond better to Sabina,”

Roland told Oliver. “Dark hair, hazel eyes, she is not to be harmed. Do you understand?”

“Yes, I understand we are here for a woman,”

Oliver noted dryly. “Did you also note the number of French soldiers docked over there?”

“They must be getting ready to mount the most half-assed assault in the history of war,”

Roland said. “We need to let the garrison know.”

“And you need to change your clothes. You lot look ready for a fox hunt,”

Remy said, opening the trunk that was brought behind him by a suspicious looking man. It was filled with sloppily folded rough clothing of sailing men. “We should dress as common folk, wot. I don’t want to get shot.”

Roland was never more grateful for Remy’s resourcefulness.

“Also,”

Remy added, “did you happen to notice your stowaways?”

He used a toe to push a lifeboat off its rack. Roland and Oliver turned in unison to see Tristan and Ransom look up from their hiding place.

“We hid in the hold,”

Ransom said helpfully. “We haven’t been under the lifeboats this whole time.”

For a long moment, Roland was silent, stunned, and shocked.

“Of all the idiotic stunts to pull at the worst time, Tristan,”

Roland said, his voice growing louder. Tristan had been outraged at being told to stay in London, a sentiment he continued on the deck of Ariadne. Roland had been preoccupied with setting out for Jersey. So stupid. He should have expected a stunt like this from his brother.

“I lost Sabina,”

Tristan pointed out. “I should help rescue her.”

“Your job is to be the viscount should I die. You are supposed to be watching over your sister. That is your duty, Tristan,”

Roland roared. “I could die, we could all die. You were always meant to live, to take care of those we leave behind.”

“Of all the selfish, vainglorious things I have heard this day,”

Tristan shouted back. “I don’t live so that you have a convenient backup. Stop shoving your duties onto me.”

“Sabina is my responsibility, Tristan. I told her she was safe, I promised her,”

Roland said.

“You are the Viscount Schofield, you are the head of this family. You cannot abandon us, again, for a woman,”

Tristan said.

“Enough,”

Remy snapped. “The longer we argue about this, the better chance Sabina will die before we find her.”

“If Sabina is going to be a part of this family, then I need to be part of this,”

Tristan said firmly. Abruptly, he noticed Oliver. “Who is this? Why do you hire strangers to fight for Sabina and not your own brother?”

“This is Tristan, my brother,”

Roland said to Oliver, who looked enormously amused by the two young lordlings.

“So I gathered,”

Oliver said. “Let them come, Jack. They need to get it wet at some point.”

“That is a disgusting thing to say.”

Roland shook his head. He pointed at Tristan. “You stay behind us and don’t get in our way. Ransom, what are you doing here?”

“Aria said I had to bring Tristan back alive or I could never show my face at Schofield Hall again,”

Ransom supplied. “She was not concerned with you, because Remy is here.”

“Lovely,”

Remy muttered.

“Arm up, we leave in ten minutes,”

Oliver said decisively. “Otherwise, we’ll be too late for attack.”

****

The gown was decades old but fit well. Of course it fit well. Sabina remembered Annika Van Dellen as a statuesque woman. The burgundy gown was loose for Sabina did not eat as well as her mother had.

Sabina hated Elmo so much for desecrating her mother’s gown like this. There was no way in hell she could think of him as her uncle or, heaven forbid, her stepfather. She had not touched anything from her old life in fourteen years, not since her nurse and tutor had spirited her away.

He had acted so cheerful and loving, speaking to her like she was still a child. There was no anger, no villainous glower. Elmo could have been seeing his favorite niece after many years of separation. He gave no hint that he had sent mercenaries to search for and kidnap her.

Elmo had insisted she dress for Old Christmas breakfast since she had missed the traditional dinner that marked the end of Christmas. She washed and changed into the clean dress, stowing her knife in the old-fashioned pocket of the gown. It shamed her that she had forgotten that she still had Roland’s knife. She was grateful that no one had thought to search her.

Silently, she asked her mother’s forgiveness for the desecration of the gown. Sabina was checking her reflection when she saw the familiar box. The carved rosewood case was a relic of Sabina’s history, something that had sat on her mother’s vanity for all her memory. She opened the box and stared down silently at the elegant strand of pearls, which could be worn wound twice around her throat or strung through her hair as her mother had done. The pearls were the size of peas, flawlessly matched with a faint gold sheen.

The fact that Elmo had brought Annika Van Dellen’s dress and jewelry for her daughter made Sabina’s skin crawl. She was beginning to see where this was heading. Her inheritance sat before her and it mattered not. She was caught and her responsibilities to the company her father had built would be shirked yet again, for she was to die soon. The question remained how torturous the road to her own death would be. Sabina had no intention of letting anyone abuse her anymore.

And in her selfishness, she only wished to see Roland, to feel safe again.

Sabina made sure her father’s signet ring was tucked safely in her bodice and wrapped the pearls twice around her throat. Squaring her shoulders, she left to meet her fate.

****

Roland noted the odd stillness in the morning air of St. Helier and frowned. They had quickly moved from Ariadne to one of their safehouses near the residence Remy had reported as being Sabina’s location. Still, the bakery should have been open by now. The butchery was still closed, as was the blacksmith.

“More ships have been spotted landing in La Rocque,”

Remy said, after listening to one of his contacts. “Not British. The crew that disembarked wore blue uniforms.”

“They’re really doing it,”

Oliver said and frowned. “The French are going to attack.”

“I can’t help but think that this excursion was not well-planned on their part,”

Remy said.

“Look,”

Roland said suddenly. “I see French soldiers taking positions around the marketplace.”

“Did the French think to invade Jersey quietly? Because pouring a battalion of bluecoats at the docks seems cracked to me,”

Ransom asked.

“Let them be sloppy,”

Tristan said, taking a moment to swipe food off the table. He was never one to let an opportunity pass. “Soldiers can fight each other while we get your girl.”

“We have to warn the local garrison,”

Roland said.

“Do you want to rescue Sabina or fight off invaders?”

Tristan cried.

“We are Englishmen,”

Roland said. “We have our duties. Tristan, Ransom, you must make for St. Peter’s Barracks to warn them of the French troops in the marketplace and in La Rocque. The number is important.”

“There can’t be more than a thousand French troops, likely less,”

Ransom protested.

“Exactly. They need to know that,”

Remy said.

“One of my men will go with you but they’re more likely to listen to someone who is obviously an aristocrat,”

Oliver said.

“Truly,”

Tristan brightened. “Can you tell?”

“Go.”

Roland pushed Tristan out the door before Oliver could bash his brother. “Return to Ariadne afterward.”

****

Sabina entered a study of sorts, and stood in the middle of the room, staring down Elmo. Her uncle sat at a desk and smiled at her approvingly. Sabina noted the satchel hanging from the chair. If she survived this, she would need funds to return to London.

She would survive this. She would escape. Sabina would go back to England and accept Roland’s offer. What a fool she had been. Her life was too short and precious to waste on this endeavor any longer.

“I am so pleased you could join me, my dear,”

Elmo said liltingly. “I hope the journey was not too arduous.”

“Your man Hendriks kidnapped me off the streets of London and then smothered me with ether,”

Sabina corrected him. “It was most unpleasant and against my will.”

“My dear, no such thing,”

Elmo said, shaking his head sadly. “Hendriks rescued you. We have been searching for you for a long, long while now. We only wish to return your inheritance to you. See, I have brought pieces as a gesture of my good intentions.”

Elmo reached into the satchel and pulled out several boxes.

Sabina stared at the boxes, aghast. She knew what pieces were in each box.

“You’ve tried to kill me before, at the Romney docks. I also remember when you killed my father and my mother. Please, proceed with my murder. Let us bring this farce to an end,”

Sabina lashed out.

“I would never. Your death results in your father’s shares in the company being divided evenly among the rest of the board. The resulting majority stake would belong to Aafjes or Leyton. No, no, your father’s will clearly states that you will retain the shares in your own right at the age of five and twenty, or your husband will assume ownership,”

Elmo explained gently.

She had never read her father’s will. She had heard her parents speaking before about how she would come into ownership of the shares, but she never thought of her hypothetical husband assuming ownership.

“Mother had ownership of the shares,”

Sabina said slowly.

“No, the shares have been held in trust since your father’s death until your majority. Your mother never had their custody. A fact I did not know until after our nuptials,”

Elmo said casually.

“And that is when you murdered her,”

Sabina added.

“No, my dear, Hendriks killed your mother. Now, do let us speak of more current topics.”

Elmo rounded the desk and reached for her hands. Sabina cringed in revulsion and then stared at Elmo in dawning horror. She was wearing her mother’s dress and pearls.

“Your mother’s necklace.”

Elmo stared at the South Sea pearls for far too long. The unease Sabina had felt as a child around him had now grown into full awareness that this man was not well. “Very distinct. And you, my precious dear, look exactly like her.”

Sabina wished very much to stab Elmo in the face but now was not the time to let them know she still had Roland’s knife.

“You cannot think we would marry,”

Sabina said. “You are my uncle.”

“Uncle and niece is not a close blood relationship at all. I would have explained it all to you after your mother’s passing but you were gone. That was very naughty of you, little one, running away. It’s enough to make a man think you would rather die than submit to his touch. I would be hurt if I thought you had meant anything by it.”

He was mad, Sabina realized. Well and truly mad.

“You are my uncle,”

Sabina repeated in disbelief, then clamped her lips shut. There is no reasoning with a madman and she had to survive. Elmo did not seem to even hear her. “All of this for control of Van Dellen Shipping? How prosaic.”

“Do you know what the East India Company will give me to sell Van Dellen to them? Can you even comprehend?”

Elmo asked.

“Van Dellen has been independent for decades. Our company employs thousands of people. The East India Company would dissolve the company and leave our employees bereft,”

Sabina said.

“Who put such thoughts in your head? Was it your nurse? It must have been her idea to have you run away. How very vexing. No matter. You turned out rather splendid, didn’t you, my precious dear?”

Elmo continued his approach. Sabina circled the desk, trying to keep it between her and Elmo.

“You must understand, I am not a bad man,”

Elmo said.

Sabina stared at the man who murdered her parents and made her life a living hell for the past ten years.

“I beg to differ,”

Sabina said. She needed to get to the satchel first. There was a heavy bust near the window. Perhaps it could break the window behind the desk and she could escape in that fashion.

“I have never made love to a woman wearing jewels and I must say, the thought is quite intoxicating,”

Elmo said, not listening to her.

Sabina threw up inside her mouth. This was not her destiny. She would not let this happen to her. Then she flinched at the resounding boom of a canon that echoed alarmingly close to her.