The Reckless One by Connie Brockway Read Free Book Online

being so wretchedly, she knew she would not have done one thing differently. She did not act on her own behalf now.
    She drew back from the window, snapping the curtain shut as though by doing so she could shut out the Englishman’s image. What she did, she did for her clan, to rectify the decade-old wrong she’d caused them.
    She was the only who
could
rectify it.
    She’d been reared on that knowledge, molded and shaped by it. Even in the French convent where she’d been sent so many years earlier, the letters from Muira Dougal had kept her obligation ever before her. Now, finally, the time had come for her to act.
    Favor McClairen was going home.

Chapter Six
    It took an hour to row out to the ship. The half dozen men in the long boat strained silently against the oars. At the helm, Jamie guided their way, threading the heavily laden boat through black water like Charon bringing the newly departed across the river Styx.
    Except she wasn’t dying, Favor reminded herself. She was going home. She should be ecstatic. They’d made it when all odds were against them.
    For days the entire north coast had been covered with not only soldiers but guards and laborers, merchants and seamen, all seeking the notorious smuggler,
La Bête
—or more to the point seeking the unheard-of sum being offered for his capture. Apparently Jamie had made fools of the French authorities once too often.
    After a few days in his company she understood how he’d managed that not inconsiderable deed. ’Twas Jamie who’d determined that their best odds in evading capture lay in hiding in plain sight. He’d anchored his ship in a port, not in one of the tiny inlets smugglers generally favored.
    Still, while most of the authorities’ efforts had been concentrated on coastal areas, they hadn’t altogether neglected the harbor towns. It had been necessary to arrange a diversion that would give them time to load their contraband—as well as Favor. Again, Jamie came up with a plan. But for it to work they’d needed an Englishman—an Englishman they could leave behind. But where and how to find a willing dupe?
    Amazingly, it was Sacré Coeur’s Most Reverend Mother who provided the answer.
    Now, perhaps the Abbess had information from other sources, but it was certainly interesting that her brother, Father Dominic, was also Madame Noir’s confessor. For whatever reasons the Abbess was uncommonly well versed in that notorious lady’s habits and for this Favor was grateful.
    The plan had been simple. One of the convent’s milkmaids dropped a word into a French lieutenant’s ear regarding the Abbess’s anticipated windfall of fine Scottish wool blankets on a certain night at a certain locale. In the meantime Favor went to the local prison disguised as Madame Noir to select an Englishman who might readily be mistaken for the infamous English smuggler.
    Everything had gone as arranged.
    Except for the Englishman’s eyes. And that he’d sworn he would never return to prison again. And that in asking her permission to touch her hair he’d looked quite as naked as Favor had ever felt.
    The rowboat bumped lightly against the side of the ship’s barnacle-covered side. Favor frowned. She had nothing to feel so guilty about. Once the guards realized they didn’t have
La Bête,
the Englishman would simply be sent back to prison where he’d have ended up if she had been Madame Noir.
    Hushed voices called out from above and Jamie answered in kind. A second later a rope ladder dropped down and two men leaned over the side of the ship. She took hold of their hands and they hauled her onboard. A second later Jamie, panting and swearing, hoisted his girth up and over the gunnel, followed shortly by his men.
    “Get her to the cabin,” he ordered in a heavy Scottish accent, jerking his head in Favor’s direction. “Hoist anchor and put yer backs to settin’ sail. We’re fer home, laddies.”
    A rumble of approval met this announcement. Curious glances