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Chapter Sixteen
Perdita didn’t wanther dream to end. It was perfect. Dash was perfect. Nothing could hurt her again. Dash lifted her into his strong arms as he whispered that he had waited for her forever, and he would go slow. She didn’t want slow. She wanted everything his gravelly voice promised. Drifting in and out of hazy light, she swayed back and forth, reveling in the sensation of Dash’s closeness and his soothing tone.
Panic replaced her sensual feelings as she was dragged from Dash, from safety into a terrifying nightmare. Bony fingers squeezed her so tightly that she couldn’t breathe. She was lost on a cliff unable to get her bearings. Each step along the steep incline was grueling and precarious on the wet slippery ground. She was desperate to find someone, but she didn’t know who she sought. The air reeked of spoiled fish. She looked down at the abrupt drop into the water. An eerie black nothingness.
Terror of falling into the void engulfed her. The only sound was her pounding heartbeat. She shouted for Dash, but nothing came out of her mouth. She stumbled and was swept into the waves, the strong current taking her down, shrouded by the arctic water into the silent, black emptiness.
Perdita awoke to the sound of men shouting. She wanted to pull the pillow over her head to stop the loud noise. Her servants would never disturb her. Where was Rosetta with her morning chocolate?
The deafening clamor was unbearable. The mention of Dash’s name in the tirade drew her attention. Blinking, she pushed her eyes open to come awake, fighting against the heaviness weighing her limbs and eyelids, and sat up.
She lifted her hand to cover her mouth to stop herself from vomiting as stabbing pain twisted behind her eyes. Her hand didn’t budge. It took a few seconds for her lethargic brain to register the fact that her hands were bound with rough rope, bringing back the memory of two men climbing into her carriage. Rough cruel men with their weapons pointed at her heart entered from each side when the carriage abruptly halted in the middle of the road. The shock of the boldness of their attack in midday on her way to visit Aunt Euphemia had slowed her reaction to fight back.
She had raised her arm to knock the pistol out of the man’s arm, planning to kick the other man’s pistol. It had been too difficult to maneuver in the small space against the two armed opponents. Her kidnapping had been carefully and perfectly executed, leaving her with no defense.
The voices outside the room grew louder.
“I’m not hanging for your bloody ass and your Frenchie friends. I never agreed to this. Beldon will come after us for touching the woman. He has been friends with Clifton and his sister for years. He attended her ball. If rumors are to be believed, he plans to marry her.”
“You were very happy to take the Frenchie’s money. And Beldon will never find them.”
“You underestimate him.”
“He’s a drunk who does nothing but drink, gamble, and whore just like his father. We had men follow him for weeks when you were convinced he was working for Rathbourne. And that led nowhere.”
“It won’t be just Beldon. The entire country will want our blood if we kill an earl and his sister.”
Terror clambered through her sluggish brain, bolting her wide awake. The good news was that Roddy must still be alive, wasn’t it? Disoriented and dizzy, she searched for the voices coming from above who spoke easily about murdering her and Roddy. Moving her head caused the piercing pain to shoot straight to her brain, and another wave of nausea to roll over her.
An open porthole above her allowed the men’s voices to be heard and morning light to filter into the area. How long had she been unconscious? The memory of the kidnapper striking her with the butt of his pistol as the other grabbed her arms flashed before her.
One of the men speaking must be Haversham, who ran his smuggling operation at Upper Pool docks if Harry’s contact was correct.
But why would the club owner link himself to the kidnapping by summoning Roddy to his club with the fake note? Dash was convinced that Haversham’s business savvy wouldn’t let him be stupid enough to kill Roddy. But his secret partner seemed willing to kill them.
The Upper Pool docks were not far from Mayfair, on the Thames that stretched a little less than a mile below London Bridge. There were thousands of ships in the docks waiting to either have their cargo loaded or unloaded. How would Rathbourne’s men find her and Roddy? They would have to go through the port records to find the names of ships that might be associated with Haversham. Unless they already knew the ships’ names owned by Haversham, it would take hours or possibly days to locate them. Too long before… she didn’t finish the thought as the tiny hairs on her neck bristled in foreboding.
“It isn’t Beldon that you should worry about. Fouche’s secret agents are barbarians who enjoy watching people suffer. What do you think they’ll do to you if we don’t finish this?” This man didn’t speak like a gentleman, which ruled out Yardley or Vinson as Haversham’s co-conspirator.
“You got us into this mess. If the French or Beldon don’t kill you, then I’m going to tear you apart.” With Haversham’s violent background, he most likely was the one speaking.
“Then I’ll hope for Beldon. I’ve watched you in the ring.” The man’s deep laugh boomed. Who was able to laugh at dying? Perdita gulped down the anxiety the size of a boulder stuck in her throat. Only someone with nothing to lose.
“If we don’t get the names from Clifton, Fouche’s men will dole out our slow and painful deaths.” Haversham sounded afraid, which heightened her own torment.
She held herself still, fighting against the panic. These villains frightened a man who had made his living beating others to an inch of their lives.
“Something to look forward to—watching you suffer at your supposed friends’ hands.”
“Why all this drama, Haversham? We’ve been in tighter spots. Clifton will give up the names when we threaten to rape his sister. And then we’ll be done.”
“You’re a bigger fool than I thought if you think we can walk away from this.”
“You’ve always hated those titled bastards. You would have been amused that the men all want a chance at having a lady, an earl’s sister.”
Perdita began to shake. Whole-body tremors took over. Her teeth clacked and the smell of saltwater filled her nostrils and made her gag. What names did Roddy possess that made them desperate?
She lowered her head onto her chest to stop the wave of dizziness and to block out the ship rocking. The pendant from grandmere was still fastened around her neck. She touched her most prized possession and felt the courage the simple necklace represented. She could find the strength against all odds as her grandmere had done. She was Annette’s granddaughter with a heritage to honor.
