“Come this way and Joseph will help you out.”
This was silly. Surely the drop couldn’t be that bad. Yet he was given no chance to try himself. Conrad lifted him as carefully as if Nathan were a baby, hefting him over the sill, then setting him on the ground. He tried to infuse more gratitude into his words than he felt for being treated like an invalid. “Thank you.”
“We didn’t want you to hurt your leg again,” Conrad said before leading the way around the back of the house.
Though the large man and Miss Marshall were not walking quickly, Nathan struggled to keep up the pace. Perhaps he wasn’t as fit as he’d thought. “I won’t be sad to see the last of this place.”
Conrad’s teeth shone white in the dark. “Neither will I.”
A quarter hour later, by Nathan’s reckoning, his lungs and the one leg screamed for relief. He’d never been this feeble before, and he wondered for the first time how close to death he’d actually been.
“Mr. Wivenly.” Conrad’s hand touched Nathan’s arm. “Are you all right? Would you like me to carry you?”
“No.” His heart pushed into his throat as he tried to draw a deep breath, but he’d not be treated like an infant. “I’ll be fine. How much farther until we reach the conveyance?”
“Just around the curve. That was as close as we thought safe to leave the cart.”
The drive down which they walked was so dark he couldn’t see the direction of the road. “I’ll make it. Let’s go.”
Conrad kept his massive hand on Nathan’s arm, which was probably just as well. By the time they reached an old cart harnessed to a mule, he couldn’t have gone another step. Dark figures emerged from one side of the road.Damn!Caught before they’d even left the property. Yet, neither Miss Marshal nor Conrad seemed concerned, and no one made a move to stop them.What the devil?
“I’m sorry we didn’t tell you before.” Miss Marshall’s quiet voice broke the silence. “I could not in good conscience leave behind those who helped us. The retribution would have been unthinkable.”
Nathan knew the type of punishment meted out to slaves who’d helped others escape. He didn’t have the strength to do more than incline his head before Conrad lifted him onto the wagon’s seat. Miss Marshall slid in next to him on the bench, took the reins, and started the mule. The rest—Nathan counted three men and two women— walked alongside the cart with Conrad. At this pace, it would take them most of the night to get to Saint-Pierre.
He hoped his friend, Vincent Beaufort, had retired early this evening, for he’d be wakened before dawn tomorrow.
At what Yves thought was an early enough hour that no fashionable person would be abroad, he tied his cravat in a neat but unremarkable fashion. After donning a dark blue jacket, tasteful waistcoat, pantaloons, boots, and high-crowned hat, he set out for King’s Quarter, where Wivenly House was situated.
Yves climbed slowly up the Ninety-Nine Steps, as if taking in the sights. Each house seemed to have its corresponding gate built into the wall. That was what his Portuguese tool had failed to take into account. One scream in this area would bring out the rest of the inhabitants. Which was exactly what had occurred.
He was brought out of his reverie by the sounds of a man and woman on the steps above him. Eugénie and a gentleman chatted as they descended the step street. Though the girl had probably never seen a picture of his brother, her father, whom he resembled greatly, Yves paused as if to examine a hibiscus, tilting his head so that he’d not be recognized.
He waited, but no maid or footman followed. So lax, these people on the island. In France an unmarried young woman would never be allowed alone with a gentleman. Unless, that was, they were betrothed.
What was the gentleman to her? Yves shrugged. It mattered not. Eugénie was spoken for. His brother had already signed the documents.
He turned, trailing after the couple, making sure not to come close enough for them to notice him. Soon they came to a small group of piers where pleasure boats and yachts were docked alongside. His niece led the way to a small sailboat. After tossing a coin to the boy who held the rope to the boat, the man followed. Soon the lines were cast off and Eugénie set the sails while the gentleman rowed them into the harbor. So, his niece enjoyed boating. He’d have to keep an eye on how often she went out.
Yves could already feel the freedom her property at home would give him. Unbeknownst to Hervé, Yves had bribed a judge in France to make him trustee of her property. Not that that would do him much good here on St. Thomas, but he’d convinced Hervé to allow Yves to take the contract to thecomte. He’d rewritten part of the contract so that the only property thecomtewas aware of was the monies his dead brother had settled on Eugénie.
Hervé didn’t know that the house in Paris and estate in the Loire would remain with the family. In other words, with Yves. The property should have come to him and not Eugénie, in any event. It wasn’t fair that he had received nothing.
He scowled, causing a young woman to shy away. With some effort he assumed an expression of ennui.Finally there would be no more begging for money from his brother. All he had to do was deliver Eugénie to thecomte; and he’d do so soon.
Chapter 17
Eugénie led Wivenly to her small sailing dory docked at the warehouse’s pier.
He caught her hand as she was about to descend the wooden ladder attached to the dock. “If you allow me to go first, then you can hand me the basket, and I can help you into the boat.”
His offer took her by surprise. Even when she was young, she’d never been assisted into her boat. Papa had always insisted she learn to do everything herself. Yet she had the feeling that even herbeau-papawould have expected her to accept Wivenly’s offer. “Thank you, my lord.”
He grinned as if she’d given him a gift, and she smiled back.
Once the picnic basket was stowed in the bow and Eugénie had settled herself next to the mast, she began unfurling the sail as Wivenly rowed them away from the dock. He needn’t have done it. She was perfectly capable of maneuvering her way into the harbor under sail alone, and a brisk breeze already filled the linen sails.
Yet hewastrying to be helpful, and having assistance was pleasant. Not to mention the way his broad chest looked as he pulled on the oars. If only he weren’t wearing a jacket she’d be able to see his muscles working as he rowed. Where had that thought come from? This was not the time to allow herself to be distracted by his body. It was too difficult to think when that occurred. “We are far enough out. You may put the oars up now.”
