The Raider (Montgomery/Taggert 9)
“Well, it looks like you may live after all.”
Alex moved his head just a bit to see Nick sitting beside him, his coat off, his shirt dirty with blood on the front. “What time is it?” Alex asked as he started to sit up but was dizzy with the effort so he lay back down.
“It’s almost dawn,” Nick said, getting up to move to a basin of water and wash his hands. “You almost died last night. It took a while to get the bullet out.”
Alex closed his eyes for a moment and thought about his foolish stunt of being the Raider. “I hope you don’t mind my imposing on your hospitality a while longer, but I think it will be a day or so before I can travel to Warbrooke.”
Nick dried his hands on a towel. “I don’t think either of us had any idea of the consequences of what you did last night. It seems that this town was looking for a hero and you’ve been elected. You can’t step onto the street without hearing about the exploits of the Raider. It seems that he’s responsible for every deed that’s been perpetrated against the English in the last ten years.”
Alex gave a groan of disgust.
“That’s the least of it. The English have sent every soldier at their disposal to look for you. There are already posters out for your arrest. You are to be shot on sight. They’ve been here twice this morning and demanded to search my ship.”
“I’ll go then,” Alex said, moving to sit up, but he was very weak from the loss of blood and his shoulder hurt abominably.
“I’ve kept them away by threatening them with war with my country. Alex, if you stepped onto that gangplank, you’d be shot within minutes. They are looking for someone tall and slim, with black hair.” Nick’s eyes burned into Alex’s. “And they know you’re wounded.”
“I see,” Alex said, still sitting on the edge of the bed, and he did see. He knew that he was facing the end of his life, but he could not stay here and risk getting his friend involved. He tried to stand, leaning heavily on the chair in front of him.
“I have a plan,” Nick said. “I have no wish to be pursued by the English navy, so I’d like to allow them to search.”
“Yes, of course. At least that way I won’t have to walk down the gangplank. I was dreading that.” Alex tried to smile.
Nicholas ignored his attempt at levity. “I have sent for some clothes of my cousin. He is a fat man and a gaudy dresser.”
Alex raised an eyebrow at that. To his taste, Nick’s clothes put even peacocks to shame, so what must this cousin’s be like?
Nick continued. “I think that if we pad you to fill the clothes, fortify you with a little whiskey, put a powdered wig on over that mass of black hair, you’ll pass the soldiers’ inspection.”
“Why don’t I put on the disguise and just walk off the ship?”
“And then do what? You will need help and whoever gives it to you will be putting his life in danger. And how many of your poor Americans could resist the five-hundred-pounds reward that is being offered for your head? No, you will stay here on my ship with me and we will sail for this town of yours. Will there be someone there to take care of you?”
Alex leaned back against the wall, feeling even weaker than when he woke. He thought of the town of Warbrooke, the town his grandfather had settled and most of which his father now owned. There were people there who were his friends, people he’d known all his life—and he was a product of those people. If he was brave, then they were twice as brave. No English soldiers were going to frighten the town of Warbrooke.
“Yes, there are people there who will help me,” Alex said at last.
“Then let’s get you dressed.” Nick threw open the cabin door and called for a servant to bring the clothes he needed.
* * *
“Alex,” Nick said gently. “We’re here.” He looked at his friend with sympathy. For the last week Alex had been running a high fever and now he looked as if he’d been on a week long drunk: his eyes were sunken, his skin dry and red, his muscles weak and rubbery.
“Alex, we’re going to have to dress you in my cousin’s clothes again. The soldiers are still searching for the Raider and I’m afraid they’ve come this far north. Do you understand me?”
“Yes,” Alex mumbled. “They’ll take care of me in Warbrooke. You’ll see.”
“I hope you’re right,” Nick said. “I’m afraid that they may believe what they see.” He was referring to the ridiculous sight Alex made in his fat padding and brocade coat and powdered wig. He certainly didn’t look like the handsome young man come home to save a town from a dastardly brother-in-law.
“You’ll see,” Alex slurred, since Nick had been giving him brandy to help him face the coming exertion. “They know me. They’ll laugh when they see me like this. They’ll know that something has happened. They’ll take care of me until this damned shoulder heals. I just pray they don’t give me away in front of the soldiers. You’ll see, they’ll know that no Montgomery ever dressed like a peacock. They’ll know there’s a reason for this.”
“Yes, Alexander,” Nicholas said soothingly. “I hope you are right.”
“I am. You’ll see. I know these people.”
Chapter Two
I DON’T know why I have to be there to meet him,” Jessica Taggert said for the thousandth time to her sister, Eleanor. “Alexander was never anything to me—nothing good, that is.”