Page 75 of After the Abduction

He cast her a rueful smile. “No, of course not. Anyway, he waved it at me, cornered me in an inn where I was the only person not of the free-trading persuasion, and demanded to know how I’d escaped.”

“Escaped what?”

He paced in front of the bed. “Crouch thought I was Morgan, remember? I let him rant, hoping he’d reveal what he’d done with my brother. When he didn’t, I tried leading him to tell me, but I blundered. My rapscallion of a brother may look like me, but as you guessed, our accents and manner differ markedly. Crouch became suspicious and demanded to know who I was.” He tightened his fists. “God, how I wish I’d thought to mimic Morgan the moment I saw that blasted smuggler.”

“You can hardly blame yourself for not knowing the circumstances ahead of time,” Juliet murmured.

Glancing over, he noted her calm, unreadable expression. Yet sympathy showed in it, too, which encouraged him to continue.

“So I told Crouch the truth—that I was Morgan’s brother come in search of him. That’s when he recognized the advantages of having me in his power.” Walking to the fireplace, he poked at the coals. “He had this…blasted stupid plan he needed carried out by someone who could pass for a gentleman. He wanted to kidnap you, and thought it might be more successful if it were worked as an elopement. He said if I’d help him, he’d release Morgan. He let me think he had Morgan prisoner.”

“The scoundrel!”

“My sentiments exactly.” Sebastian faced her. “I wanted to have him carted off to the magistrate and forced to tell me. But I couldn’t risk Morgan’s life, and Crouch had me in his power.”

“So you did as Crouch asked and kidnapped me,” she whispered in an aching voice.

His gaze shot to her. Hurt welled in her eyes, hurt that he’d chosen to protect his brother at the cost to her reputation. It drove a stake through his heart. “There was more to it than that,” he said hastily. “Crouch was determined to kidnap you, with or without my help. Since I thought I couldn’t go to the authorities, I had nowhere to turn. After one look at his companions, I knew I’d never let a defenseless young woman fall into their hands. I figured if I were the one to take you, I could protect you, and in the bargain obtain Morgan’s release.”

“And Helena and Daniel?” she said indignantly. “What about them? Didn’t you even consider that other people might be harmed in your little scheme?”

He certainly deserved that blow. “When it came to your relations, I confess I miscalculated. I truly believed Lady Helena would wait in Warwickshire for word of our supposed marriage. You must admit she isn’t the sort to risk a scandal or go running after her relatives. You repeatedly assured me of that on our way south.” He drew himself up stiffly. “Besides, I got them out safely, too, didn’t I?”

“They got themselves out,” she corrected him. “Though I suppose they couldn’t have if you hadn’t looked after me.”

It was deuced hard to gauge what she thought when she sat so still with the ends of the sheet clutched in her delicate fists. There wasn’t a hint of how she felt.

It worried him. “I did what I thought I had to.” He ached to make her understand, to cut through her shield of quiet accusation. “I truly believed Crouch had Morgan at that point. Crouch showed me Morgan’s pistol as proof, the one I had designed especially for him when he was here. Morgan would never have given it up without a fight. So I thought Crouch would kill Morgan if I didn’t do what he wanted. After all, the man was called the King of the Smugglers and spent most of his time armed to the teeth.”

When she merely gazed past him to the fire, frustration made him desperate. “I only learned after I’d brought you to Sussex that Morgan wasn’t in Crouch’s power any more.” He scrubbed his face with both hands. “Even then, everything might have been different if I’d known that Morgan had joined the smugglers at the Home Office’s behest, to spy on them.”

That got a reaction from her at last. “What? He wasn’t even a smuggler?” she said in surprise.

He shook his head. “I should have realized Morgan wouldn’t turn his back on his family and country for something like that. If I had, I could’ve just gone to the Home Office or the navy for help with Crouch. But all I knew was that Morgan was mixed up with a gang of smugglers. I had to conceal that so he wouldn’t be caught and hanged.”

“And by then you had me to bargain with,” she said coolly.

He flinched. “Yes, for all the good it did. Even though I learned that Crouch had paid to have Morgan imprisoned aboard a merchant ship and carried off God knows where, Crouch refused to tell me when and on what ship. He wanted his ransom money first, and I needed his information to track Morgan’s journey. So I had to see the whole thing out.”

“Why didn’t you simply offer him a ransom of your own for Morgan?” She still refused to look at him. “Lord knows you can afford it.”

“Actually, I did, but he thought I was inventing my tale of wealth to escape him. I didn’t march into town initially with all the pomp and circumstance of the Right Honorable Lord Templemore, you know. Besides, he didn’t want only money; he wanted revenge on your brother-in-law. And I feared he might take it at the cost to your virtue, if I didn’t stand between you and him.”

Her gaze swung to his, softening infinitesimally. “Which is exactly what you did that day in the caves, and from the beginning. You stood between me and Crouch, between me and all of them.”

Relief rushed through him. She understood. “I couldn’t gain my brother if it meant ruining an innocent young woman. Everything I did was designed both to protect you and find Morgan.”

“And after all that, you lost him anyway, didn’t you?” Compassion flared in her features. “My poor, dear Sebastian.”

Blast, he’d forgotten that she still thought Morgan dead. Yet another lie he must untangle. “For a long while, I…er…thought I had. When response to my queries brought that letter I showed your brother-in-law, it nearly killed me.” He dragged in heavy, cold air, bracing himself for the rest of the tale, the part she would despise him for. “As it turned out, Morgan wasn’t—isn’t—dead.”

She gazed up at him with wide eyes, clasping the sheet tightly to her chest. “No?”

“No.” He paced restlessly. “A few months ago, the Navy Board came here to reveal that Morgan had been in Sussex at the Home Office’s request, but that he’d recently been spotted aboard a pirate ship, the Satyr. No one knows how he escaped the Oceana before it sank, or how he ended up on the Pirate Lord’s ship. Unfortunately, he was recognized when the Satyr’s crew separated a certain Lord Winthrop from his gold.”

“I don’t imagine Lord Winthrop approved,” she said dryly. “He’s rather fond of his gold.”

He sighed. “Indeed he is. And he set up a hue and cry at the Navy Board for Morgan’s head. They came to me with an offer—Morgan’s life in exchange for the Pirate Lord. They said they would pardon him for piracy if he helped them capture the scourge of the seas. And I agreed to act as go-between…whenever I heard from him.”