She was quiet for several moments before saying, “We have only two footmen, one is older and the other still a boy. Yet even Josh could not have stopped that man.”
“I’ll send my groom, Griff.”
She glanced at him in surprise.
In addition to keeping her protected, perhaps this would help encourage her to start feeling differently about him. “He has nothing better to do, and he knows how to fight and handle a pistol.”
“I shall carry my dagger as well.” She gave a firm nod. “Somehow we need to keep this from Maman.”
That answered his question about whether or not she could use a knife. It didn’t surprise him.
Cicely’s brows rose, wrinkling her forehead. “I don’t know that you’ll be able to. The whole street answered your screams.”
“She’s right.” Will squeezed her hand. “Shall we tell her together? I can explain about Griff.”
“Very well,” Eugénie said in a barely audible tone.
He’d never seen her so still, so stoic. “What are you thinking?”
“That if my mother lost another person”—her voice hitched—“she would not be able to go on.”
This was the time to take her in his arms; instead Will had a slab of beef on his face and their closest friends were present. Not to mention, no dark shadows he could tug her into, though that hadn’t gone very well. “I promise you, she’ll not have to.” He eased himself up on the chaise and brought her hand closer, kissing it. “I’ll keep you safe.”
She turned to him, her eyes wide as if she almost didn’t believe what he’d said. Then the corners of her generous mouth lifted. “Thank you.”
He couldn’t put a name to the surge of emotions coursing through him. It was almost the same as when he’d been given his first ice cream, or when he’d cleared his first fence, but infinitely stronger. Pride mingled with self-satisfaction and something else. It was thatsomething elsehe knew he’d have to examine more closely when he was alone and could think, but right now, this was enough.
The remains of Nathan’s dinner had been cleared not a quarter hour before. It was still light, but barely. Once the sun sank, darkness would fall quickly. None of the lingering sunsets of his youth in England here in the West Indies.
He stared up at the ceiling, waiting. Miss Marshall and Mr. Conrad said they’d return this evening. Though perhaps he’d already been drugged. A light scratching came at one of the windows before the shutter opened. Conrad lifted Miss Marshall through the opening. She sat on the sill before gracefully swinging her legs inside.
“Mr. Wivenly.” She smiled as softly as she had earlier. “Good evening. We don’t have long.”
“I must tell you,” Nathan said, “they plan to treat Conrad’s food so that he’ll sleep.” Nathan related the rest of what he’d overheard.
The smile left her face. “Thank you for warning us. We suspected as much. Fortunately, one of the cooks for the slaves is also from St. Croix. She will make sure his food is not adulterated. At least if they think Joseph is drugged”—her hand flew to her chest and she breathed deeply, calming herself just as any well-born Englishwoman would do—“he will not be chained. I have arranged transport away from here. Not long after the overseer, Williams, departs, we should as well.”
“Am I correct that we are not far from Saint-Pierre?” Nathan asked.
She glanced quickly at Conrad. “You are, sir. How did you know?”
“This is not the first time I’ve been on Martinique.” Nathan grinned. “If we can get to the town, I have a friend who will assist us.”
A scenario played through Nathan’s head. “Will he be missed at breakfast?”
A look of revulsion appeared on Miss Marshall’s face; she opened her mouth to speak when Conrad said, “No. I will not be missed until the evening meal.”
Nathan would hear the rest of their story, but not now. “We should be safely out of their grasp by then.”
Miss Marshall nodded tightly. “We’ll come through this window to fetch you. Good night.”
The couple left as quietly as they’d entered. He wondered about the unlikely pair. They appeared to take the travesty that had occurred to them when Conrad was sold in stride, but how much had they suffered at the hands of greedy, cruel men? All in the name of profit. Well, Nathan was proof that one did not need to make money on the backs of slaves.
His hand went to his breeches, then he remembered: The miniatures of Sidonie and Eugénie were no longer there. He’d have new ones made when he returned. This time of all the children.
Closing his eyes, he tried to force himself to sleep, yet could not. It was not Conrad who would be missed. It was Nathan. Damn. He should have thought of that earlier. How far could they travel beforehisbreakfast was served?
Finally, he dozed fitfully, waiting for the soft scratching on the window, but it never came. Once it was light he rose, changing from his clothing to the nightshirt he’d been provided and returned to bed. The fear Conrad had been caught played with Nathan’s mind, but no alarms had been raised. Waiting, not knowing what had happened, that was the worst part. No wonder so many wives chose to go to sea with their husbands. This was far more terrible than battle.
