Free A Fateful Wind by Suzette Stone Page B

arms he wanted to touch his body were Jenna's. Still, tonight would be a good evening to make sure Edwin got drunk enough to regale him with stories of the many maids he bedded. If Jack felt Jenna was in any danger of being ravished by Edwin, he would make sure it would be stopped immediately.
    The carriage came to an abrupt halt as the raucous sound of Plymouth’s docklands came into earshot. Edwin jumped onto the cobblestone street, reaching back into the carriage for his walking cane. Dressed in his evening finery of top hat, tails and polished leather boots, there would be no mistaking him a man of money able to buy any vixen he so desired. Jack chose to dress a little understated and chided his cousin for appearing so wealthy.
    “You will be a prime target for beggars and vagabonds.” He chastised, as Edwin emerged from his dressing room, fixing his silk puff tie.
    Lord Edwin merely laughed, pointing at the ivory pistol tucked neatly into his sock.
    “I never go anywhere without this trusty piece of protection. I am surprised at you for not carrying one. I thought being in America you would have become a fervent fan of the pistol.”
    “No, it’s not as dangerous there as people would like to think.”
    Jack stood next to the carriage and surveyed the street in front of him. The stench of Union Street hung stagnant in the night air. Rotten vegetables lay decaying in the gutters, feasted upon by errant pigs, dogs and copious amounts of rats. Raw meat hung in the butcher’s window, the pungent smell wafting out into the street. The stench of stale ale poured out of the numerous public houses and whorehouses. Union Street itself was littered with filth, mud and straw. Vagrants and beggars sat huddled in doorways, holding their pestilence ridden hands out for any scraps of coins they could gain. Harlots posed shamelessly, enticing the bawdy sailors into the various brothels lining the streets of the docklands. It was a shabby and destitute wasteland of poverty and depravation. Even Jack, with all his worldly travel, was shocked at the vileness of the place.
    With a look of disgust on his face, Jack followed wearily behind his cousin, who strode off with an excited jaunt in his step in the direction of a particularly bawdy establishment. He skirted the various bodies of tramps lying stretched out on the side of the road, kicking away the greedy vermin crawling around them with his cane and made his way up the steep steps leading to the entrance. A red oil lamp hung dissolutely above the door. As Edwin opened it, the noise and smell of debauchery denoted to Jack this would be a place of great distaste. The establishment was full of sailors in port for the night and eager to satisfy the carnal desires pent up during their time at sea. A few well-heeled gentlemen quelled their lusty appetites amidst the scantily clad bosoms of the harlots cavorting amidst the tables and barstools plying their punters with liquor and ale, eagerly eating up the coins and notes thrust into their lace garters.
    Jack followed his cousin toward a cordoned off area set away from the myriad of sailors and dock workers where they joined the other gentlemen of society seated in well worn velvet chairs. Lord Edwin beckoned over a voluptuous redhead who knowingly sized up his attire and greeted him with a coquettish wriggle of her bosom. Within minutes, bottles of whiskey littered their table along with ale and rum and a sample of different tobaccos laid out for their pipes.
    Edwin fanned his hand around the bevy of beauties who milled around. “Take your pick. My treat tonight.”
    Jack nodded halfheartedly, pleased when silence at last descended upon the rowdy patrons and some of the harlots dressed in frilly French knickers took to the stage.
    “Ah, ‘tis the can-can!” Edwin shouted, his face red with pleasure, guzzling back the tankard of whiskey with great gusto. Winking at Jack, he pulled over the curvaceous redhead who squirmed seductively