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A familiar voice interrupted the mayhem as the men rushed to get Weber on his feet. “Look who I discovered about to embark for France.”
All heads turned to watch Aunt Euphemia march across the dock accompanied by two very burly men who jerked a bound Lord Vinson forward. He sneered at his partners. “You fools. I should have known you weren’t capable of this operation.”
“It’s your greed that got us here. We’ll hang, but you’re a fucking peer. They won’t touch you.” Not deterred by the blood pouring down his face, Haversham jerked toward Vinson.
“You’re right. He’s already sold you out. He’s trying to make a deal to give us the French behind the kidnapping.” Aunt Euphemia chuckled.
“My dear aunt, I told you not to get involved.” Rathbourne raised his eyebrow, his tone weary. “You haven’t fully recovered from your last mission.”
“Cordelier, my dear Perdita was in trouble. She and Miss Rothsby needed my assistance. Mrs. Brompton is close to Vinson’s housekeeper. And the poor servant was willing to betray her master. Said he packed for a long journey, told his valet he was going to France.”
Aunt Euphemia poked Vinson in the chest with an umbrella she carried. “There is a lesson there for you, Vinson. Never underestimate a woman or a servant.”
Perdita was never lost for words. Always quick with a fast retort, she was incapable of doing anything but stare at the elderly woman who had become so dear to her.
Concern crossed the wrinkled face, but she hid it quickly as she gazed at Perdita and her torn skirts. Aunt Euphemia stretched on her toes and patted Perdita’s cheek. “Did they harm you, my dear?”
Perdita grabbed her hand and squeezed. “I’m fine. Nothing untoward happened. But Aunt Euphemia, are you… you work with your nephew?”
“That is a discussion for another time in a private place. I’m just glad you’re well and being taken care of. I did warn you, Beldon. But as I said, men never listen.” Aunt Euphemia’s voice was laced with amusement.
“Like Vinson, I underestimated two very smart women.” Dash grinned at the older woman.
“There is hope for you, Beldon.” She patted Dash’s arm. “Cordelier, I believe I’m finished here.”
“As always, you were indispensable.” Lord Rathbourne raised one perfectly arched eyebrow.
Aunt Euphemia’s boisterous laughter carried across the open space as she strode across the deck.
“Take them all to Abchurch for questioning,” Lord Rathbourne commanded. Turning to one of the many soldiers who must be in charge, he added, “Search the boat. Like the rats they are, I’m sure Haversham’s men are scattering. Beldon, you and your men need to close down the French network before they realize they’ve been compromised.”
Content to be in Dash’s arms, Perdita didn’t try to follow the conversation.
“Jones, assemble the team. I’ll meet you in our usual in two hours,” Dash directed a tall man with sandy brown hair too long to be a soldier. He had waved his pistol at Weber.
Roddy signaled the men carrying him to stop, so he could speak to her and Dash.
She should be embarrassed to be held against Dash’s hard wall of a chest. But he needed the physical reassurance as much as she did. Also, with her back to the men, her near nakedness was concealed.
“My sister overpowered three men and dragged me to escape,” Roddy wheezed. He held his arm across his chest to splint the pain.
Dash squeezed her, his grip almost painful. “I’m not surprised. She’s always been Alfie’s best student.”
Dash, Roddy, and she together. Everything was right in her world. Perdita relaxed for the first time since she found herself captive. She was tired. Her brain was numb, her body exhausted. Dash’s heat and the rumble of his voice and his steady heart beating against hers, with the gentle rocking of the boat, soothed her aching body and soul.
“By the familiar way my sister is allowing you to hold her, I assume that you plan to marry her?”
Dita yawned and snuggled closer. “When I thought I would die, my only regret, Dash, was that I didn’t allow you to make love to me.”
“Perdita,” Dash shouted at the same time as Roddy.
“Darling, you’re giving Roddy and Rathbourne the wrong impression.” Dash smiled down at her. His eyes were soft, his voice filled with tenderness. “I behaved like a gentleman if you recall. I was a saint.”
“That was what I regret.” She shifted to get comfortable. She had never felt this tired. “I wish you hadn’t been so darn saintlike.”
Dita closed her eyes and gave over to the safety in Dash’s arms. She drifted asleep to the sound of the men’s laughter.
