A Gentleman By Any Other Name. Kasey Michaels

she was right, as Dickie roused quickly enough a few minutes later when Julia poured the contents of Chance’s flask over the wound, the boy coming up wide-eyed and yelling for his mam.

      By now the second coach had caught up with them, and as Billy and Chance stood guard in case the boys had been pursued, Julia rummaged in her portmanteau for an old slip and tore some of it into strips she tied around the cleaned wound.

      “Are we far from Becket Hall, Mr. Becket?” she asked as she sat back on her heels, looked up at him in the moonlight. “We need to take Dickie with us. And poor George, as well. How is John?”

      “John? You mean the one over there, retching into a ditch? Clearly past managing anything at all useful. You know these boys are smugglers, don’t you?”

      “Yes, I heard John mention tubs. Tea or brandy, do you suppose? Well, it’s of no matter. They came afoul of someone, didn’t they? What nonsense, to be just three of them out here on the Marsh.”

      Chance smiled a not-quite-amused half smile. “I suppose when you are out smuggling, you only travel in groups of ten or more.”

      “Ten? I should say not. More like dozens, Mr. Becket. Only a fool doesn’t align himself with one of the gangs. And I have not run with the freebooters, sir, although I would lie if I said I didn’t know many of them and haven’t heard their stories. Poor Georgie,” she said, looking at the body sprawled facedown in the road. “He couldn’t have been more than seventeen, could he? His poor mam.”

      Chance glanced up at the moon. “And now you want me to transport all three of them to Becket Hall. Feed them, hide them, endanger my family with their presence. Has it by any chance occurred to you, Miss Carruthers, that I am a representative of the king and that the proper place for my two prisoners is Dover Castle? Dover Castle, then on to London where they will either be hanged and gibbeted or duly whipped and transported.”

      Julia put a hand on Dickie’s shoulder, easing him back onto the ground. “He doesn’t mean that,” she said soothingly, then got to her feet to all but go belly to belly with Chance Becket. “If you’re quite done putting the fear of king and courts into these poor boys?”

      “Oh, bloody hell,” Chance said. “Billy!” he called out, still looking at Julia. “Get the boy and have him help you load his brothers into the second coach. I want to be moving again in five minutes.”

      “Ah, now, sir, couldn’t Nathan be takin’ up the other end with me? Big, strappin’ boy, Nathan.”

      Chance looked toward the groom, then toward the weeping boy. His jaws tightened as he remembered the time when, no more than fifteen himself, his wrong move had cost another man his life and how Ainsley had driven the lesson home. “No. He’ll be less inclined to reckless acts after carrying his own dead brother. There are some weights a boy must live with if he’s to learn to be a man.”

      Billy nodded. “Rodolfo. Right you are, sir. I’m just gettin’ old and soft.”

      “And growing deaf, as well. I told you to get the boy and load the others.” Then he gave Billy a pat on the shoulder as the man shuffled off.

      “Thank you, sir,” Julia said, totally confused by the exchange between Chance and Billy but knowing enough not to ask any of the many questions that had popped into her head. Such as, who was Rodolfo? And what so-sober memory did Billy and Chance share? So she merely watched, her heart aching for the boy, as Billy and a sobbing John picked up Georgie by his wrists and ankles and carried the body back along the road.

      She’d seen dead bodies before, seen wounds before, but she was not nearly so calm as she pretended to be, because she’d always had her father by her side and in charge. Far easier to follow orders than to be responsible for giving them, responsible for the person needing her help.

      “Dickie told me he and his brothers had gone to retrieve their small share of a larger run,” she told Chance, feeling the need to fill the silence between them, speaking quickly, probably saying too much. “No one was supposed to do that until the entire gang could assemble tomorrow night, meet up with the land carriers. But Georgie wouldn’t hear of that for some reason or other. These two men John spoke of must have spied them out and followed them. Now the entire haul may be lost, not just their portion of it, and the gang will be forced to find a new hiding place for freshly landed goods. A mess all around. Dickie and John had best be gone from the Marsh before anyone else knows what happened. His mam and any other family, as well.”

      Chance cocked one eyebrow at her, rather amazed by her knowledge and her deductions, not to mention her cool head in the midst of this crisis. “Obviously you’ve been giving all of this some considerable consideration. You expect retribution from the boys’ compatriots?”

      “Don’t you? Freebooting is a desperate business and demands total secrecy. Through their eagerness, Georgie and his brothers may have lost the entire proceeds of a smuggling run. Possibly tons of goods, all paid for and brought to shore, hidden. Considerable work and cost are involved, sir. Someone will be very unhappy and want revenge. Dickie made mention of a black ghost but then quickly begged me to forget I’d heard what I’d heard.”

      “That would probably be wise. Excuse me,” Chance said tightly and went after John, who was now wringing his hands and crying yet again. He took the boy roughly by the elbow and steered him into the tall grass beside the narrow roadway. “Stop wailing like a little girl. Stand up straight and look at me. Your brother told the lady about a black ghost. Now you’re going to tell me.”

      John’s eyes went wide. “Oh, no, sir. He did no such thing. None of us never would, sir. Dickie’s just hurtin’ bad, that’s all. He never said that.”

      Chance ruthlessly squeezed the boy’s upper arm. “Dover Castle, boy. Ever see a body hanging in gibbet chains? The blacksmith comes and fits you for your very own set. Grown men have been known to keel over dead just seeing the smithy come at them with the measuring stick. And it all starts at Dover Castle. I know the way—you and your brother could be there by morning. Of course, with that hole in him and with no one to doctor him, he’ll be dead soon and you’ll probably hang alone. Crying and pissing your pants as they drag you to the rope, your mam there to watch.”

      He gave the boy’s arm a shake. “Tell me.”

      “We…we travel with him now, sir. The Black Ghost. Him and his men protect us from the others. From this side of Camber to Appledore and all the way to Dymchurch, sir. We’re almost all together now, with the Black Ghost watchin’ over us.”

      “Is that so?” Chance did his best to control his breathing, his temper. “The others, John. And who are the others? The ones who came after you?”

      “I can’t say, sir.” When Chance squeezed again, John rushed into speech. “I don’t know, sir, that’s what I mean. Hundreds of them, all together. From Lunnon-town, we think. We had to join together, too, or else lose everything. We’re the Black Ghost Gang now, sir. We can’t say it because nobody is to know but us. Never say Black Ghost, sir. Dickie never should have said that. But Georgie, he said we didn’t need to listen to nobody what won’t even show his own face and…oh, sir, what do I tell our mam? Georgie was her favorite of all of us.”

      Remembering what Julia had said, Chance asked, “How many of you are there?”

      Johnnie wiped his runny nose on the sleeve of his smock. “Twelve, sir. Da’s gone, drowned on a run these two years past, but there’s still twelve of us.” He half choked on a sob. “E-eleven, sir. And now they seen us. They know who we are. Now they can find us. We’re all going to be dead, like Georgie. Mam and Dickie and me, even the little ones. The Black Ghost can’t help us now. Maybe the Black Ghost will even want us all dead, too. We was told to stay away until tomorrow night and we didn’t listen. What should I do?”

      “Christ,” Chance muttered, then pulled the boy roughly into his arms. He let John weep against his shoulder while he told himself this boy was nothing like he had been years ago, when he knew that wasn’t true. Desperate was desperate, no matter what the cause.