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“You will continue to act as a boy,” Laurent said in a low tone, his eyes darting around, seemingly watching everyone around them simultaneously. “You will remain here with the cargo, comprenez-vous?” He gave her a hard stare. Evelyn nodded.
“Tres bon,” the Frenchman said, his lips twitching. “In a few days’ time, I will inform your brother of your presence here on board. By then, he will not be able to turn you away. In the meantime, do not look at anyone, or speak to anyone.”
Evelyn nodded again. She couldn’t believe her turn of good luck. Despite this man’s gruff appearance and obvious lack of personal hygiene, he seemed genuinely kind and helpful. Perhaps he hoped that Henry would pay him extra for taking care of her.
****
“Of all the foolhardy things you have ever done, Evie, this one takes the cake,” Henry almost yelled, his angry red face inches from hers. His eyes darted from her to Laurent, who stood several feet behind her, and lowered his voice. “What on earth are you thinking?”
“I refuse to marry Charlie, Henry. If you’re going after Alex, then I want to go with you.” Evelyn stood her ground, her hands clenched firmly at her sides. For the last three days, Laurent Berard had kept her secret. He watched over her, brought her food and water, and made sure no one came too close to her to realize she was not a boy. He had apparently decided that it was time to relinquish his responsibility as chaperone to her brother.
Henry’s reaction was no less than Evelyn had expected. He was livid. She had never seen him so angry, even after the grief of their parents’ death had eased, and when he cursed Alex Walker to hell and back. The six other men he had hired stood off to the side, their heads together, whispering amongst themselves. One man glared at Evelyn, an almost evil grin on his face, and an unmistakable hungry look in his eyes. She averted her gaze, feeling trapped like a mouse in a barn full of cats.
Henry’s jaw clenched, and his eyes darkened even more. His upper body tensed, and for a moment Evelyn wondered if he was about to strike her. Instead, he abruptly turned, and rubbed at his jaw with his right palm. He spun back around to face her, and shot a murderous look at Laurent.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do with you, Evie,” he finally said. His voice had calmed considerably. “I was trying to look out for you when Charlie asked for your hand in marriage. Coming into the wilderness is dangerous to say the least. A woman here is unthinkable.”
“I want to be with you, Henry,” Evelyn said and stepped up to her brother. She placed her hand on his arm. “You’re the only family I have left. I don’t care about the dangers.”
Henry sucked in a deep breath. “All right,” he finally said, and offered a tentative smile. “Let me . . . let me talk to these men.” He gestured with his chin over his shoulder in the direction of his hired help. “I’ll no doubt have to pay them extra to bring you along, but I don’t see an alternative at the moment.”
Evelyn flung herself at her brother and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Thank you, Henry,” she whispered. “I won’t be a burden to you. I’ll stay out of trouble.”
Henry peeled her away from him, and shot her a look that told her in no uncertain terms that he didn’t believe a word of what she said. Several of the men behind him sniggered. The one who’d been leering at her licked his lips. Evelyn stepped away from her brother and looked in another direction.
“Go back to where you’ve been hiding out, Evie. It’s already getting dark. We’ll talk more in the morning.” He shot a meaningful look toward Laurent, who nodded. Taking her arm, the Frenchman led her away from her brother.
“That went very well, don’t you think?” Laurent asked cheerfully as he led her back to the cargo area.
Evelyn sank to the ground between several burlap sacks, satisfied that Henry agreed to take her with him. She relaxed against a bag. She had barely closed her eyes, when gunshots and loud shouting startled her out of her contentment.
“Laurent?” She sprung to her feet. The Frenchman was no longer at her side. Stumbling over a crate in the dimming evening light, she looked ahead to the front of the boat. Men ran in all directions, shouting and firing their weapons.
“Henry?” Evelyn screamed. Someone bumped into her, knocking her to the ground. A heavy body fell over her legs.
“Get off me,” Evelyn demanded and pushed at the man. Startled, she realized that he didn’t budge. When she looked closer, lifeless eyes stared up at her. Evelyn scooted backwards on her rear, gasping for breath and swallowing the bile that rose up her throat. She pushed and shoved against the dead man until she succeeded in yanking her legs out from under his heavy body.
