‘Who the devil is this Jacob anyway?’ Roan ground out. ‘You gave us the impression that you were unable to trust anyone in your organisation.’
‘He’s not part of my organisation,’ Raphael responded tightly. ‘He works for me and has done so for over ten years – ever since I found him begging on the streets of London.’
‘How strange,’ Hope observed tartly, ‘I feel like I’ve heard a similar tale very recently.’
Rafe bristled but managed to keep his temper in check, well aware that she was simply voicing what everyone else in the room was thinking. ‘I was wrong to have kept it from you,’ he bit out finally, ‘but I…’
‘No,’ Roan shot back. ‘You were wrong to have insinuated your man onto my ship in the first place. You want us to trust you, yet you do not reciprocate. You of all people should know that trust works both ways – especially when lives are at risk.’
The two men glared at each other, neither backing down.
‘I do not play both sides,’ Rafe bit out. ‘But you are right, I have asked much of you –allof you - without giving anything in return...’ He stopped, rubbing his brow in frustration before continuing in an equally intense, but much quieter tone, ‘If we are to stand any chance of securing Tristan’s inheritance and putting an end to Fontaine’s plotting, we have no choice but to continue on this path. He and his associates are willing to commit cold-blooded murder simply to rid themselves of Montclair’s rightful heir. They have already attempted to blow up two prominent members of the British Parliament with no care as to how many more would die in the blast. They nearlymanaged to assassinate the King, for God’s sake. Whatever you think of me, we cannot falter now. Youknowwe cannot.’
A stony silence met his words, but a second later, Roan took a deep breath and finally nodded. ‘From now on, you hold nothing back,’ he ordered sharply, unmindful that he wasn’t speaking to a subordinate.
Gritting his teeth at the other man’s highhanded tone, Rafe nevertheless gave a curt nod. He followed it with a quick, instinctive glance towards the door, before ruthlessly pushing aside the crushing regret at having lied to Henrietta.
The mission was all that mattered now.
Up on deck, Henri took a deep breath, welcoming the buffeting wind. Despite her efforts to push the agent out of her mind, she couldn’t halt the picture in her head of Raphael staring down at her, eyes slumberous with need. Desperately, she tried to banish the image, but her mind refused to comply. Blinking back sudden tears, she made her way up to the poop deck and sat on one of the few benches provided for officers and passengers. Seconds later, she buried her face in her hands despairingly. She couldn’t rid herself of the notion thateverythinghe’d said to her had been a lie. That he couldn’t be trusted.
‘Be ye sad, mistress?’ a small voice asked seconds later. Her eyes flew open, and she found herself looking into the thoughtful eyes of Finn Noon. The boy was staring at her worriedly, obviously unsure whether he needed to fetch another adult, or stay with her in case she threw herself overboard.
‘I am perfectly well, Finn, thank you,’ she murmured, wiping her eyes hurriedly and making a heroic effort to smile. ‘It’s just that everything is so…’ she broke off, trying to find the right word.
‘Skeerie,’ the boy helpfully provided, sitting down beside her and placing Flossy in his lap. ‘Dinnae fash yersel, Miss Henri, ye nae be th’only one. Honest tae God, ah niver in ma life been so afeart as ah be yesterday.’
‘You were very brave,’ Henrietta told him truthfully. Finn nodded matter-of-factly. ‘Ma Da reckons ah be turnin’ his hair grey, but ah dinnae think so since he dinnae hae any hair.’ The boy chuckled, and looking at his cheerful face, Henri found herself smiling back.
Seconds later, the Reverend and Percy arrived, heralded by a soft bark from Flossy. ‘Tare an’ hounds, it’s blowing a deuced gale up here,’ Augustus Shackleford complained, climbing the stairs towards them. Finn obligingly shifted on the bench and patted the space he’d created.
‘I hope you’ve not been bothering Miss Carew,’ Percy quizzed him.
‘Nae, Da, me an’ Miss. Henri hae bin enjoyin’ a wee banter. She be desperate sad, though ah dinnae ken why.’
Percy winced as he sat down. ‘Please forgive my son’s forthrightness, Miss Carew,’ he implored. ‘The lad means well but doesn’t grasp that it’s not always acceptable to say whatever is in his head.’
‘That’s why the boy’s always in the deuced basket,’ Reverend Shackleford chuckled, sitting down and tucking his hands under his cassock. ‘If it’s the Frog who’s upset you, lass, I suggest you put him out of your mind immediately. Slippery, that one.’
Henrietta looked at the earnest faces of her companions and shook her head. ‘Nobody has upset me, Grandfather,’ she hedged. ‘I’m simply anxious over what is to come.’
‘You youngens are far too sensitive nowadays,’ the Reverend went on, shaking his head. ‘In days gone by, me and Percy would’ve laughed in the face of danger – ain’t that right, Percy lad?’
The curate nodded dutifully, though his expression told a different story. Unexpectedly, Henri stifled a giggle. She opened her mouth to speak, when Finn suddenly jumped off the bench and hurried to the taffrail surrounding the poop deck, leaning forward to peer over the main deck. Seconds later, he turned back. ‘Ah jus’ seen that sailor gaun doon tae the lower deck.’
The Reverend frowned. ‘You’re sure it was him?’
‘Aye,’ Finn nodded vigorously. ‘Ye reckon he be up tae nae good?’
‘Well, I doubt he’s going for a nap,’ Augustus Shackleford frowned. He turned to his curate. ‘Come on, Percy, this is our chance to nobble the blackguard.’
‘I’m not sure that’s a good…’ started Percy, only to realise the Reverend was already hurrying down to the main deck. With a sigh, he got to his feet. ‘Stay here, Finn, he ordered the boy,’ before reluctantly following his superior down the companionway.
Hopping from one foot to another, Finn waited until the two men had vanished down the ladder, before running back to Henrietta. ‘Ah cannae stay here like a feartie, Miss Henri. Dae ye look after Flossy.’ With that, he plonked the little dog into Henrietta’s arms and hurried after the two men.
‘Wai…’ Henri began, but the boy was already on the main deck. Getting to her feet, she hastened to the taffrail and watched the boy start down the ladder leading to the lower deck. ‘Damn,’ she muttered to herself. Should she go and inform Raphael and her father? They’d still be at the table having lunch. Biting her lip, she hesitated, loath to go back into the dining room just yet. But at the end of the day, she had no choice. She couldn’t leave her grandfather and Percy to run headlong into possible danger – not to mention Finn. She looked down at the little dog in her arms, who was whining softly. ‘I know, Flossy,’ she muttered, ‘bacon-brained, the bloody lot of them.’ Then with a sigh, she headed down towards their private quarters to speak with the one person she’d hoped to avoid.
Fourteen
