She flung herself from the horse, grabbed him, struggled with his leaden weight as the captain rolled to his back, crimson smeared across his forehead, face ashen.
Benjamin arrived in a burst of hooves, quickly dismounting, gasping at the captain’s bloodied features.
“Please, Hugh.” She thumped his chest, brushed his hair, and one eye sluggishly opened.
Thank God.
His bloodied hand reached out to stroke her cheek, and she smiled reassuringly.
“You came for me,” he rasped, raising her fingers to his wet lips.
“Of course, I…” She faltered, refusing to believe her eyes as Captain Lynch brought himself to sitting and dusted off his jacket.
“Hugh?” she ventured, eyes scuttling. “I-I don’t understand. Captain Lynch, this isn’t very funny; a storm is coming.”
Thunder rolled but a deeper ominous thud overlaid it, and she twisted, screaming as Benjamin slammed to the ground.
A jagged flash ripped the sky, igniting the deception and the scourge stood behind cloaked in black.
With long blond hair blowing in the fierce wind, pale marble features and piercing gaze, the figure appeared sent from heaven.
But Tamsyn knew him from hell.
“Ah,ma petite, I have missed you so,” murmuredLa Chauve-Souris.
“Hugh…” She scrambled to the captain’s side, fingers fumbling, couldn’t take her eyes from the shadow in front as Hugh’s firm hand gripped hers. “Help me… It’s–”
“The chit was upset for me, sir.” And she turned, shuddering as the captain stroked her cheek. “Not my blood, pretty one, don’t you fret. But we set the trap and you came like a fox for her cub. Thank you, darling.”
“Who are you?” she whispered, staring into Hugh’s face, refusing to contemplate the silent phantom behind.
“By now,” he drawled, gaze resting on her lips, “that fop Winterbourne will have read his London post and know Captain Lynch’s guts were spilled over Waterloo. Hence we’ve to move earlier than planned.”
Horror roiled within. This could not be.
Yet Hugh rose to his feet, wiped his face with a sleeve and winked.
Tamsyn covered her eyes. “A traitor hidden in plain sight,” she whispered. Like her Marbled Green moth against lichen.
Hands yanked her to standing and the captain grinned as thunder pitched across the malevolent sky. “I was sent to look after the goods, and mighty fine goods you are. Never had a better job.”
“Enough,” hissedLa Chauve-Souris. “You English talk too much.” Cold fingers curled around her arms, wrenching her from the captain to spin her tight against his lean frame. Frankincense churned her senses; knuckles stroked her neck. “I see you on the beach with that fop; how could you,ma amour? You have forgotten ourtête-à-têtein the cave. But never fear,” he purred, breath moist in her ear, “I can remind you.”
“Their horses have fled,” Lynch grumbled. “We’ll have to mount on one.”
She heard a low chuckle from behind and watched the traitorous Lynch’s eyes widen to white as a pistol lifted from beneath the black cloak ofLa Chauve-Souris.
“I have realised,mon ami, my recent problems stem from loose ends. I never used to be so careless.”
A brutal crack, louder than any burst of thunder, rendered her deaf, smoke watering her eyes. The sham captain lay still on the ground, crimson spreading upon his chest.
“No,” she screamed, revulsion heaving as she struggled to break his hold.
“Zut alors, I think you liked him. But have no worry,” the demon proclaimed, throwing down his spent pistol, “we reacquaint ourselves,non? This way, if you would? To our cove,ma amour.”
“C-cove?” she spluttered. “Surely you don’t mean to sail in this? The storm. You’d have to be…mad.”
His face neared, a wicked blade now held to her cheek. “Am I?” A brush of lips against hers and she quaked. “Yes, a little, I think…or we could visit our cave,ma petite.” He grazed a knuckle over her skin before shoving her hard. “The horse. Now.”
