Nick tensed again. Whenever Alex winked like that, disaster was soon to follow.
Standing taller, Darcy nodded at Nick. Understanding that he must be on his best behavior, Nick lowered his shoulders and lifted his chin. At least, Darcy appeared to have a plan … which was more than Nick had. When Wickham slithered through the doorway behind them, Nick expanded his chest as Darcy did. Wickham scurried behind Connell like a scared cur.
Darcy spoke again. “Ye don’t wish to cross Lord Matlock. He—”
Nick’s eyes widened. What was Darcy doing?
“His Lordship is not here.” Connell failed to notice what so completely unnerved Nick. Couldthe man not tell them apart? “And even if he were, he can’t protect her.”
Cold fear gripped Nick by the throat. If they took Alex, he’d never get her back. It wouldn’t matter that she’d changed. She’d pay not only for her previous crimes but for her brothers’. Their infamy was too grand. The Admiralty would make a show of her hanging, using her to send a warning to those who raised their glasses in her name and sang the poems revering her exploits … just as they’d have done to him. They’d exact their revenge on her all the more cruelly because they’d still be sore from being forced to let him go.
Connell jabbed his thumb over his shoulder. “This gentleman said you assaulted him at Bath … and it would seem you have done it again.”
Handkerchief stuffed up his nose, Wickham grumbled, “Once a pirate, always a pirate.”
Darcy opened his mouth to defend him, but Nick shook his head. It didn’t matter what he said. People would always assume the worst of Nick, and he wouldn’t allow his brother to lose face before a man like Connell. He’d only accuse Nick of being a corrupting influence, and Darcy would be in danger. Nick would not allow it.
Taking courage, Connell added, “Furthermore, the Gardiners can be accused as accomplices. They knew they were housing a renowned criminal.”
That, Nick could not allow either. He spoke in his most dignified tone, trying to imitate the authoritywith which his brother exercised his influence. “I asked them to. They’re only doing so as a favor to me. They trusted my word and had no inclination of their guest’s former activities.”
Connell looked between him and Darcy, confusion marking his brow.
Out of the corner of his eye, Nick saw Darcy wink at him again. Dear Neptune, what was he up to? Nick watched Darcy closely, trying to figure out his plan, but Darcy didn’t reveal anything. Drat the pest.
With a parting raise of his eyebrow that filled Nick with dread, Darcy offered, “Leave the Gardiners be, and I’ll come with ye.”
If Darcy was trying to confuse Connell, he’d be the one to end up behind bars, and Nick refused to go along with it. Crossing his arms over his chest, praying his imitation was as sound as Darcy’s had been, he asserted, “I will come with you. I am the man you want.”
Darcy, the stubborn blighter, jabbed his thumb at his chest. “‘Tis a lie. I’m the man ye want.”
If lives weren’t at stake, Nick would have laughed at the sight of Connell scratching his head.
“If ye want to arrest Nicholas Blackburne, ye’ll have to pick yer man.” Darcy grinned, his eyes pleading with Nick to go along with the farce. Under his breath, he added, “Think of Alex.”
In that exchange, Nick understood. His brother was willing to go to prison to save Alex.Uncle might not be able to secure Nick’s release again, but he could for Darcy. He’d show up with irrefutable proof of his true identity, leaving Connell humiliated before the very men he sought to impress to earn his reward. He’d have no choice but to drop the matter and chase after Mrs. Finchley, grateful for the guaranteed payment Nick himself would contribute to. In a flash, he saw it.
But the risk was overwhelming.
His brother was willing to go to prison … for him. Choking down his emotion, Nick matched Darcy’s grin and taunted Connell. “Choose yer man, sir.” He held his wrists in front of him, praying Connell would choose him. “Is it me?”
“Or me?” Darcy—curse him!—held his wrists up, too.
Alex and Elizabeth clung to each other, eyes as wide as the bores of a cannon.
Swaggering around Connell, Wickham stood before them. The man had a great too much bravado for his own good when he was a coward at heart. Nick had seen many like him. They were the sort that talked of their bravery, their skill, and their composure in the heat of battle. But when the first shot was fired, they could be found shaking in their boots in a dark corner calling for their mamas and making empty promises to God to spare their miserable hides. Nick despised them.
But Wickham had laid his hand on Elizabeth, andhe’d attempted to weasel his way into Georgiana’s heart for his own selfish gain. Nick hated him.
“I know Darcy better than anyone,” Wickham bragged. “We grew up together at Pemberley, as close as brothers. His father loved me as his own son.”
Nick narrowed his eyes. So he knew Darcy, did he? He would flaunt the place that had rightfully belonged to Nick as his own? He tightened his arms over his chest lest he forget himself. A glance out of the side of his eyes confirmed that Darcy’s stance mirrored his own.
“Darcy despises me, but he is a gentleman through and through. He would never do me bodily harm,” Wickham stood directly in front of Darcy, as smug as a thief making off with a lady’s necklace, “unlike his roguish, lawless, pirate brother.”
Darcy looked past him to Connell. “Are ye certain ye trust this scoundrel?”
Wickham spun on his heel, pointing his finger at Darcy. “He is the man you want. He is Blackburne. I would swear my life on it.”
