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Sure enough, one man was getting into the rowing boat and beginning to row towards the shore. ‘I’ve watched them before,’ Maria said. ‘It takes ages. Let’s walk along the beach and see if we can find any shells. I want to make a shellwork frame for a mirror.’
She reached out a hand to Alessa and pulled her to her feet. ‘I’ll bring this basket, shall I?’ Alessa knew she had to enter into things and not to be seen brooding, if only for her own pride, but it was hard to feign an interest in shellwork just now.
The other girls joined them and they began to stroll along the waterline, stooping every now and again to pick up a choice specimen. The man in the rowing boat was keeping parallel with them, close inshore. Alessa thought vaguely that it must be a big net, she did not recall seeing other boats having to make such a wide sweep.
‘Is this too big?’ She held up a large shell for Helena’s inspection, just as the rower dug in his starboard oar hard and the boat shot up to the beach. He leapt out as the girls stood gaping at him—a fat man who Alessa recognised in the same instant as Frances squealed, ‘It’s the pirate! The one who steered us when we escaped!’
He was in front of them before they could react, a small circular hand net in his grip. He swung it, entangling Alessa, picked her up, threw her into the rowing boat and was pulling hard for the skiff before the other girls could scream.
Winded, outraged and completely tied up in the net, Alessa was too indignant to be frightened. ‘Let me go at once! You are going to be very severely punished for this—Sir Thomas will not let you get away a second time.’
His only answer was a grunt. In a few more hard stokes they were alongside the skiff, its sail filling again. The pirate shipped the oars, let the rowing boat scrape up the side of the bigger boat, picked Alessa up bodily and dumped her on board. Then he backwatered out of the way and the skiff skimmed off, leaving him behind.
Alessa struggled frantically with the net, which had pulled her hat over her eyes, finally freed herself and lay panting on the deck, staring at the tall figure at the tiller. Tight black trousers over long, muscular legs, a shirt with flamboyantly wide sleeves, a wide red sash cinching narrow hips and hair in a bandana topped off by a wide straw hat.
She squinted against the sun-dazzle, trying to make out the face in the shadow cast by the deep brim, but failed. Surely it couldn’t be the Count? But who else would have the sheer gall, the extravagant showmanship, to snatch her off the beach in the teeth of the full Residency household? ‘Take me back this instant,’ she demanded, trying to keep her voice steady. ‘You cannot hope to get away with this.’
The only answer she got was a quizzical tilt of the head. ‘Lord Blakeney will rescue me,’ she declared, suddenly utterly convinced it was true. ‘He rescued me before and he will do it again. He is an English gentleman and a match for any cowardly pirate.’
That provoked a sudden grin and a flash of white teeth. ‘Don’t you dare laugh at me, you wretch!’ She got enough breath back to scramble to her feet and marched up the short deck towards the tiller. ‘Oh, if only there was a real man here!’
‘I am devastated,’ said her captor, pushing back the hat to the back of his head. ‘One moment you are complimentary about me, the next—’
‘Chance!’ Alessa stared at the tall figure. Had she got heat-stroke? Did a broken heart make you hallucinate? ‘Chance—what are you doing?’
‘Attempting to prove to you that I do not give a fig for convention or propriety—provided I ca
n have you.’
‘But you don’t want me.’
‘Yes, I do. Don’t you remember? Because if you do not, then my technique is a lot worse than I had imagined.’
‘Oh, I know you want me that way. I expect you want lots of women that way, and I haven’t got any basis for comparison, but I am sure your technique, as you call it, is amazing,’ Alessa said crossly, still too shaken by the kidnap to take what he was saying seriously.
‘Alessa, I love you.’
‘No, you don’t, you never said so.’
‘You never said you love me, but I rather suspect you might not positively dislike me.’He glanced up at the set of the sails and adjusted the tiller to take them further out into the bay.
‘Chance, I—’
‘No, don’t try to tell me anything now. Wait until we land. There is something I want to say to you, and I need to give it my full attention.’
Alessa sank down on to the deck. ‘They will be sending a rider to the fort. They will have a navy cutter out after us. Chance, you are in so much trouble—how are we ever going to explain this?’
‘No need to explain anything. They will all know by now.’
‘What? How?’
‘I told Harrison. He and Maria are particularly grateful to me at the moment and were more than willing to reciprocate in a romantic gesture.’
I don’t believe this…Chance is not romantic. ‘Where are we going?’
‘Vidos Island.’ Chance nodded northwards. ‘We’ll be there soon.’
‘But it is deserted.’
