Mr. Percy, Leo’s solicitor, made an exaggerated bow, then pulled a pistol out from behind his back and held it at his side.
A ha’penny from a fountain. Tarnished bronze. The exact color of Percy’s suit. That’s what the sick man meant.
“Well, what are you waiting for?” Percy gestured toward the side of the boat with his pistol. He had closed the distance between them so that there was nowhere for her to escape.
Leo, where are you?
She hoped he was close by, waiting for a chance to attack Percy. “Why are you doing this?” she asked, casting her eyes carefully over her surroundings, searching for a weapon, or a glimpse of Leo.
“Searching for your lover?” Percy laughed, a nasty sound. “Don’t bother.”
“What have you done with him?” Saffron asked.
Percy whistled, then mimed a splash.
Oh, God, no.
She lunged forward, hands reaching for the pistol, but Percy was too quick. He struck her across the cheek with the weapon, sending her staggering to the deck. A hot rush of blood streamed out of her nose, and she clamped her hand to the tender side of her face.
“Don’t do this!” she cried.
“Get up,” Percy commanded.
Saffron struggled to her feet, one hand on the railing, the other on her nose. When she glanced up, Percy had backed away and lowered the pistol to his side.
“Damn woman,” Percy said with a snarl. “If it weren’t for you and your dogged interest in the Ravenmores, I could have convinced Briarwood to give up this auction nonsense. This is all your fault.”
It wasn’t true, of course, because Leo had caught on to the swapped paintings before she had met him. Perhaps Percy had settled on her as the source of his problems because he’d wanted a way to re-assert control over his failing plan. Regardless, she wasn’t about to argue with a man holding a pistol.
“You should’ve died in that carriage,” Percy said.
The accident.
“You gave me your invitation,” she said, wiping blood from her cheek. The clues were piecing together in her mind to form a disturbing whole. There was only one road to Briarwood Manor. The perfect place for a trap.
“Enough talking,” he said, gesturing with his other hand to the railing. “Over the side. I insist.”
Saffron blindly reached for the rope holding the lifeboat while keeping her assailant in her field of vision. It took a few tries, but eventually, she caught hold.
She looked over the side of the boat and had only a second to secure herself before an ashy smell alerted her to the smoke trickling out of the entrance to the lower deck.
Fire. The ship is on fire.
“Damn you, woman, get off this ship,” Percy said angrily. Then he sniffed, and his face paled. “Smoke. The paintings!” He whipped around and dashed for the doorway. Before he could reach it, Leo dove out of the shadows and tackled him.
A shot rang out, and Saffron screamed.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Leo and Percystruggled on the ground, both bloodied. Saffron couldn’t tell which had been shot. The smoke choked the air from her lungs and burned her eyes.
The boat lurched hard to one side and she had a flash of how her brother and Leo’s sister, Sabrina, must have felt knowing that the ship they were on was going down, wondering if they would survive, listening to the screams of everyone around them.
She mentally shook herself. There was no one else, no huge group of innocents who would be taken down with the ship when it sank.
She grabbed the edge of the railing and returned shakily to her feet. The pistol was only a few feet away. She didn’t know how to use the weapon, but she could remove it from Percy’s reach. She dove for the chunk of metal and tossed it as far away from the struggling men as she could.
She fell against a wooden crate and clung. It would not be long before the boat slipped beneath the waves. She put her hands on her waist, digging her fingers into the thick fabric of her corset beneath her dress. The ruffles and layers of fabric were like a cage. Once she hit the water, it would soak into the layers and send her down into the deep like an anchor. Gooseflesh puckered down her arms as the boat lurched again.
