Inès could not see La Mère’s man or the boatman. Nor could she warn them with a growl.
La Mère’s lips were on her ear. “Not a sound,” she seethed.
Never.But then, there was that anchor lying on the wooden deck, and…if Inès could scrape it along…?
She felt the point of La Mère’s blade dig at her throat. She would die, but Evan would live if she could move that anchor and…
She jerked her legs and sent the anchor screeching across the planks. La Mère jerked Inès back into her embrace. Her knife nicked her, but Inès ignored the fire on her skin. She shimmied forward, closer to the anchor. Pushed again.
La Mère cried out. A long, elegant creature loomed over the woman.
Luc was upon her!Luc!
But La Mère grabbed his arm and dragged him toward the railing. Luc had little strength to fight her off. She beat him about the head, but she slipped upon the wet surface, then flipped backward against the deck. Above, Evan reached beyond her, two hands out toward Inès.
He pushed her out of the way and went after La Mère, teeth bared, eyes rabid.She could not see, but heard the sound of flesh on bone.
She was free, and pushed herself up to her elbows. But her head swam. She closed her eyes and reeled as she watched La Mère struggle to stand. Then Evan punched the woman in the stomach.
La Mère doubled over, staggered forward.
But Luc fell upon her as well. Another blow to her back and she screamed, her arms flailing. She wobbled, stepped backward, and crouched. Her eyes met Inès’s as she scrambled backward beneath the wooden bar railing. But shock widened her eyes, her mouth too, as she dangled by the waist over the lip of the boat, her fingers scratching at the wooden planks as she slid slowly down into the Seine, screaming for help as the river swallowed her whole.
Another splash and a spray of water fell over Inès. A heap of rags lay suddenly at her side. The bundle squirmed, and she saw Durham grab La Mère’s man and pull him up off Luc.
“Good riddance,” growled Evan as he joined Rafe to dump the man overboard.
Inès blinked.
Her brother was free.
Rafe was here.
And her husband was gathering her close in his arms, yelling…yelling…demanding of her that she…What?
She must not go away.
No. I never want to leave you.
But she had to close her eyes. She had no will to do anything other than drift away to some black serenity.
#
The night was too cold. The wind cut her throat like a knife. The swish of the boatman’s paddles in the water buoyed her up, but pain pushed her down. How long had they traveled? One night? Two? Surely they had stopped somewhere, but she could not remember when or where or how long.
She moaned, fighting at the force that held her. The ropes that bound her did not fray—but to her surprise, they consoled her.
“Don’t fret.” Evan’s whisper salved her fears and warmed her chill, as he eased her more securely into his embrace. “We are almost there.”
Wherever that was, she believed him, welcomed it, needed it. Peace beckoned, no more rocking and weaving.
“Where are we?” She tried to sit up. Her arms failed her.What was wrong with her?
“Near our house for the night.”
She stared up through the prickly fog at her husband and fought through the cotton batting in her brain to try to understand why that comforted her. He smiled down at her, the rays of moonlight glancing off the hard and worried planes of his dear face.
She tried to lift her hand.
