14. Cleaning House

CLEANING HOUSE

“ I hate to interrupt, but I think we might have a problem.” Westerley’s tone was serious enough that it demanded Jeremy’s unfettered attention.

“On the docks?” Jeremy glanced up, feeling the walls of the basement suddenly closing in around him.

Westerly nodded. “Word’s out that you intend to clean house. We knew they’d fight back, but something’s brewing around the old ship we believe to be their headquarters.”

Baxter turned to Jeremy. “We can’t delay the raid, not unless we’re willing to risk the whole lot of them getting away.”

“Agreed. The gang bosses would only set up somewhere else.”

The club owner was already rising from the crate where he’d been seated. “I’ll send word to my men.”

Sounds of more descending footsteps echoed in the room and this time, it was one of Jeremy’s clerks, Smithy, who came into view. But he was not alone.

The very last person Jeremy wanted or expected to see in the dimly lit basement appeared behind him, a man he’d once considered practically a brother. Jeremy narrowed his eyes at Blackheart.

With hawkish features and hair so dark it was almost black, even in a dingy and foul-smelling cellar, the duke managed to exude the arrogance that had been bred into him.

“What the hell are you doing here, Blackheart?” Jeremy stretched to see around this unwanted visitor, but apparently, he’d come alone. “Lucas isn’t with you?”

Lydia’s brother held up both hands, chuckling softly. “I come in peace.” He glanced around with a sardonic lift of his brow. “And felicitations on a most interesting acquisition.”

Jeremy inhaled deeply and then glanced down at his fob watch again. This day, it seemed, wasn’t going at all as planned. When he failed to show at Heart Place to collect her, would she think he was avoiding her again?

“Not necessary,” he answered dismissively. He needed someone to tell Lydia he wasn’t coming. He fisted his hands.

“Ah, but it is.” Blackheart stepped further into the room, his boots making a squishing sound as he did so. “Lucas is backing down. And seeing as you’re in a war of sorts, and we’re all on the same side, I’ve come to offer our support. Whatever you need. If it’s within the realm of my capabilities, I’ll provide it.”

Jeremy paused. As much as he wanted to, he was in no position to refuse Blackheart’s offer of help. This was no longer just about him. It was about protecting not only an orphanage or the docks but England itself.

He glanced down at the incriminating receipt in his hand and swallowed hard, practically choking on his shame.

“You were right.” Jeremy forced himself to look up into Blackheart’s eyes. “Arthur’s betrayal wasn’t limited to his family, or his wife, or his brother.” In that moment, it felt as though his heart turned into a void as dark as this basement. It was over. “He betrayed Lucas that day.” Not only Lucas, but every man whose life had been on the line. He’d been the reason five of them had died.

“Arthur was a traitor,” Jeremy said.

Arthur had betrayed his country . The truth echoed in his head like a death knell but then completed the puzzle perfectly. His brother had committed treason.

Jeremy had not wanted to believe it. But he’d known. Somehow, deep in his heart, he had known.

His own blood…

“He was.” Blackheart didn’t blink as he stood there and agreed with him. “I’m sorry, Temp.”

Jeremy dragged his gaze around the dank room where he’d so badly wanted to discover evidence that would exculpate Arthur. He had needed that proof.

He’d needed it to silence his own suspicions.

Defeated, he ran a hand through his hair. He’d been a fool—an idiot. Where did he go from here? His family name, the title his sons would one day inherit, would be forever blackened.

“Lucas spoke with the general, and they’ve decided to keep the records sealed. In fact, if word was to get out, he says it could harm the effort.”

Jeremy nodded, feeling dead inside. “It’s not exactly fair to the families of the soldiers who didn’t make it home.”

“War isn’t fair,” Blackheart said.

But footsteps thundering overhead had both men suddenly glancing up, then over to the stairway where another one of Jeremy’s clerks appeared with, of all people, Ollie at his side. And Ollie looked to have gotten into trouble again. Even worse this time if the swelling around his eyes was anything to go by.

“M’lord!” Ollie ran heedlessly toward him, knocking one of the boxes into the mud in the process. “They’ve got her! You ‘ave ta save her!”

“They’ve got who, Ollie?” Jeremy edged closer to the boy.

“They’ve got Lady Liddy.”

His blood turned to ice. With Ollie’s words, thoughts of Arthur all but vanished.

“This was delivered just moments ago.” Smithy handed over a folded note with Jeremy’s name written in flowery writing.

“They said they was gonna use her as insurance. An’ I’m not sure wot that is but it didn’t sound good.”

Jeremy opened the note, and as he read the contents, a roaring sounded in his ears. He looked up from it and met Blackheart’s solemn gaze. “They have Lydia.”

Blackheart, Baxter, and Westerley said they needed thirty minutes to round up the men who were prepared to raid the gang bosses’ hideout. While they did that, Jeremy followed Ollie along the wharf to the ship where they were keeping Lydia.

Watching the gang members carrying stolen ammunition onto the abandoned ship as though they were barrels of fish, Jeremy required every ounce of patience not to rush inside to save her.

He also had to convince Ollie, who knew the layout of the ship and wanted to go inside to check on Lydia, that it was best to wait as well. The sun was nearly set, and they’d have the cloak of darkness in a matter of minutes.

“It’s all my fault,” Ollie whispered, even though the two of them were far enough away not to be overheard. “Buck said he needed my help. But it was a lie. Buck didn’t like that I was staying at yer big fancy ‘ouse. Do you think ‘e could stay with you too? He’s not so bad, really. And he’s my brother.”

Jeremy kept his gaze pinned on the window where Ollie said they were keeping Lydia. Two guards watched the boarding plank and at least a dozen were manning the pier, a few of them carrying lanterns. He could almost imagine himself being successful going in on his own, but there were too damned many of them—all ages too. It sickened him to see boys who looked younger than Ollie milling about on what ought to have been a deserted wreck.

“I don’t know, Ollie. Let’s save Lady Lydia first.” But he wasn’t immune to the turmoil Ollie was feeling—the desire to protect a brother.

Patting the pistol in his jacket, he glanced over his shoulder, sensing Baxter’s men moving into place.

If he heard any indication of Lydia’s distress, he’d go in guns blazing, alone or not. In her note to him, she’d told him she’d always loved him. That she was his forever.

A pain stabbed at his heart, making it difficult to draw in his next breath.

No one else in the world made him feel the way she did. She could make him laugh when the world seemed humorless. She provided hope when his future felt hopeless.

He’d been a damned fool to ever walk away from her. If something happened to her, he would never forgive himself.

Hearing quiet footsteps approaching behind him, Jeremy stiffened. But he breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that it was only Blackheart.

It was time.

“Everyone’s in place.” Blackheart crouched down beside him. He’d known the duke for years, but he didn’t think he’d ever seen such a bleak expression in the man’s eyes. Lydia’s brother must have seen a similar expression on his own face, because he added, “We’ll save her.”

“We will,” Jeremy agreed grimly.

“And then you and I will talk.”

Jeremy only nodded at this. A brilliant light flashed off to the left, the predetermined signal giving him the go-ahead to move in.

The men that had been assembled overtook the guards on the dock within less than thirty seconds, the men on the rooftops in even less time.

Jeremy didn’t bother with the plank but sprinted past it, to the opposite end of the ship where Ollie said they were keeping her. He then used the momentum provided by his speed to leap across the water to the ship’s deck. Blackheart was only a few steps behind him, landing almost noiselessly a split second later.

“She’s in the cabin on the quarterdeck.” Jeremy pointed to the window Ollie had shown him. He and Blackheart no longer bothered with keeping silent since the gang was well aware of their presence by now. With each pistol shot that sounded, his heart skipped a beat.

The door where Lydia was being kept was unguarded now. He tried the handle, but it was locked.

Jeremy glanced toward Blackheart and, with a giant rush of adrenaline, kicked the door in, sending it not only flying open but also knocking it partially off its hinges.

His gaze found her immediately, tucked in the back of the shadowed room, and he nearly saw red when he registered the state she was in. Her hands were bound and she was gagged, with blood crusted on her face. An older looking boy—Buck—was grasping her arm with one hand and holding a gun pointed directly at Jeremy’s head with the other.

But Lydia was alive, and he fully intended for her to stay that way.

“Put the gun down,” Blackheart ordered, his voice quiet and severe, as he moved to stand beside Jeremy.

“Mmmmph!” Lydia stared back at them, not with terror, but with trust and relief.

A deadly calm came upon him, the jagged edges of his anger sharpening into a single white-hot blade. Whoever had made her bleed would die for this.

Jeremy forced his gaze back to Buck—the same boy he’d caught sneaking into his garden more than once.

“Take yourself off, Tempest,” the adolescent growled, waving the gun. “You may ‘ave tricked my kid brother into goin’ soft, but you ain’t about to trick me.”

“Is that so?” Jeremy forced himself to appear relaxed, slumping his shoulders and leaning against the door frame. “You call feeding him, giving him a warm bed, and providing him with an education ‘tricking’ him?” He allowed a disparaging grin to stretch his lips.

“Yer makin’ him soft. So when you throw him back on the streets, he won’t know how to take care of himself. At least Farley teaches everyone how to keep fed… and alive.”

“But I’ve no intention of throwing Ollie out. And if you make the right decision, I’ll give you a better life too.” Jeremy was sincere. He’d told Ollie that Buck was trouble, but the boy could show him otherwise today. “Hot food. A warm bed every night.”

Both he and Blackheart had managed to sidle into the room by now.

“It’s your choice. All you need to do is drop the gun and I’ll take you in, the same as your brother. This is the chance for you to have a meaningful life, Buck.”

“And there’s chocolates, Buck.” Jeremy hadn’t realized Ollie had come up behind them, but now he stood in the door, his eyes filled with a sort of sacrificing love Jeremy knew all too well, pleading with his brother to make the right decision. “Mrs. Crump has all kinds and she’s not stingy with ‘em. Just let m’lady go. Please, Buck?”

Buck tilted his head. He didn’t give Ollie an answer, but he relaxed the hand holding up the gun just enough to provide Jeremy and Blackheart the opportunity they needed.

Jeremy met Lydia’s gaze and as though she understood his silent instructions perfectly, she threw herself onto the floor the instant he and her brother pounced.

Buck was tough and wily though, and he wasn’t about to go down without a fight. He kicked out and tried to throw a punch, but his efforts were in vain. It was two against one—two grown men against one boy.

The blast of the gun going off reverberated in Jeremy’s ears as Buck made his choice. Blood splattered everywhere. Jeremy felt it on his hands, on his face, and he even tasted the coppery liquid in his mouth. He dropped to his knees, cursing, searching for the source and terrified that the blood might be Lydia’s.

Strong arms pulled Lydia off the floor and then wrapped around her almost desperately.

“Are you hurt?” Jeremy removed the gag from her mouth and frantically ran his hands down her arms as though searching for injuries. “Love? Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.” It was all she could think to say. “I’m fine.” She’d been terrified that he’d gone to the warehouse despite her letter, that he had somehow fallen into Farley’s trap. Feeling him whole and solid beside her brought so much relief that she burst into tears.

Squeezing her eyes closed, she all but collapsed into his arms, face pressed against his chest as her tears soaked into the fabric of his shirt. She forgot they were not alone until she heard a flint strike from across the room.

Lydia jerked her head up then, wanting to make sure she hadn’t imagined him, and sure as she lived, her brother stood staring down at the two of them. With a grimace, he flicked his gaze to the young man lying on the floor.

“It exploded in his hand.” Blackheart lowered himself to his haunches, untying his cravat while Jeremy freed her wrists. “Bullet never made it out of the gun.”

“Buck!” Ollie sprang across the room and dropped to his brother’s side as well, his voice rising in panic. “Don’t die, Buck!”

Lydia had never seen so much blood in her entire life.

Lord Westerley peered inside just then. “Everything under control in here? We’re clear on deck. Farley’s in Baxter’s custody, and most of the others have been rounded up by the runners.” He pointed to Buck. “What about this one?”

“I’ll handle him.” Blackheart glanced over at Jeremy, who nodded and, without another word, lifted Lydia into his arms.

“I’m getting her out now in case there’s any more trouble.”

“Right.” her brother agreed.

“But—” she sputtered. What about Ollie? “Don’t I get a say?” she asked.

“No,” both Jeremy and her brother answered in unison.

Well, then.

“Ollie?” Jeremy moved toward the door, adjusting his grip as he cradled her in his arms. “Are you coming with us?”

But Ollie didn’t move. “What about Buck?” His violet eyes swam with tears.

“He needs a doctor,” Blackheart answered, then to Jeremy, “I’ll drop the younger one at your townhouse after.” Her brother didn’t look up as he spoke, all of his attention focused on Buck’s hand—what was left of it.

Jeremy turned to go, but Lydia stopped him by reaching out and catching the side of the door.

“Ollie?”

Her little orphan lifted his gaze to meet hers.

“I’m proud of you,” she said. She needed him to know he wasn’t to blame. This was the bad people’s fault.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I got you caught.”

“But you also helped save me,” Lydia said with as much force as she could muster. “Do you understand?”

Ollie stared at her and then slowly nodded.

“This man—” Lydia pointed a Blackheart “—is my brother. He’ll take care of you and Buck. Do as he says. All right?”

“Yes, m’lady.”

Lydia nodded and, suddenly too exhausted for any more words, buried her face in Jeremy’s chest again. As he carried her off the ship and onto the wharf, she didn’t look up once as approving voices thanked and congratulated him. He may not have set out to become a hero, but he’d become one just the same.

And this didn’t surprise Lydia at all.