Motioning for Jaffa, Nick waved toward the door. “Get Elizabeth inside.” That done, he grabbed Alex around the waist and carried her, kicking and cursing, over to the condemned building.
“Let me down! Let me fight, ye lily-liver’d coward.”
Nick held her tighter and kept running.
They ran inside and up the stairs to the cell he had occupied his first day back on British soil.
Setting Alex down, he held her arms at her side. She stomped on his foot. “Ye eel-skinned cheat!”
He ought to have seen that coming. Jumping out of her way when she brought her heel down again, he seethed, “Ye’ll stay here and outta harm’s way if I have to tie ye.”
Wickham and Connell darted inside the cell.
Barnacles! Just what they needed. Another arrest.
“I came to offer my protection to the ladies,” Wickham claimed, his back against the cell wall.
Connell gaped at Nick open-mouthed. “You saved me. I imprisoned the wrong brother, but you came for him. And you saved me—the man who would let you hang for a price.”
Nick shrugged. “I wouldn’t leave me own brother here.”
“He could have hanged for you.”
Nick shivered. Well he knew it.
“That was a risk we had to take.” Darcy looked at Nick sheepishly. “I only regret the timing of this riot. It would have been far less complicated for our uncle to prove my true identity and insist on our release without you having to return to this wretched place.”
A warmth Nick had felt many times over the past few days spread through him. He knew what it was now, and his heart was too full to breathe or speak.
Before Nick could mumble anything embarrassing (“I love ye, too, Brother,” was too tender and sentimental for a grizzled pirate to utter), Wickham pointed his finger at Darcy. “You bent my nose!” His voice reverberated off the walls.
“Sh!” he was unanimously reproved.
“That was you,” he added, softer.
Darcy hissed at him, “And I saved your life. All the years I have covered over your indiscretions and debts out of loyalty to my father’s wishes, but not once did you attempt to live up to his generosity. You did not deserve his loyalty, and you do not deserve mine. You would have let me hang and profitedby spreading scandal about my family, even though we have treated you with nothing but consideration.” He stepped forward, towering over Wickham, who seemed to shrink against the wall. “That ends now. This is not a debt I cannot overlook and which you cannot hope to ever repay.”
Nick tried to control the twitching of his lips, but the shock on Wickham’s face was comical. He blustered, “I shall not need you any more once I get my share of the reward.”
Connell scoffed, a beautiful sound in Nick’s ears. “You think me capable of sending the man who spared my life to the gallows?”
“B—but wh-what of the woman? She’s a Lafitte!”
Connell shook his head. “I could not live with myself if I betrayed his betrothed.”
“But—all my work—all the time I invested—” Wickham bit his tongue when Connell rolled his eyes.
“You dare compare the hours you lost to the months I spent chasing my prize all over the Atlantic, then all over England? You ungrateful cur. Do you truly believe yourself deserving of a reward you did nothing but point a finger to earn? You shall get nothing from me.”
“And nothing from me,” Darcy added.
Wickham swallowed hard, eyes wide with fear as he saw Darcy in a new light. It was about time.
Alex broke their silence. “There’re few fates worsethan watchin’ a reward ye’ve been chasin’ slip through yer fingers. I’ll not have it.”
Nick grinned. Had she read his mind, or drawn the same conclusion? He wanted to credit Alex with brilliance, for by sending Connell after Mrs. Finchley, she was securing their freedom. No more hiding. No more chasing. “Once we’ve helped to calm the riot here, me and me uncle means to hire ye to track down a murderess, the evil woman who created this whole mess.”
Alex added, “We already know ye’re a tenacious man. Ye’ll need all yer wits about ye if ye’re to find Mrs. Finchley. She’s a slippery one.”
