Jemma could feel the knot of the rope giving way and thought she could free her wrist. Gritting her teeth, she tried not to make a sound as the pain of the rope bit further into her skin.
“If you bring me a solicitor, I’ll sign over Sea Cliff to you straightaway.” She stalled for time. “I know where the account books are hidden,” she lied, wondering for a moment if Tally had written to Uncle John where they were and thought he had. “I’ll never return to Bermuda. I'll stay dead.”
Lady Corbett gave a snort, “You'll stay dead all right. Quite dead.” Her hands curled around the pistol. “Now that I think on this, I believe Augustus is correct. Icanconvince the magistrate in Hamilton that your original betrothal agreement entitles me to Sea Cliff. After all, it is what dear, departed William would have wanted. The estate would never go to auction. I am still the Governor's wife. She swiveled around, the pistol clutched firmly in her hand. "I shall pretend you are a wild pig or some other dumb animal. I’ve never shot a pistol before, but at this range I shouldn’t miss.” Squinting at Jemma, she clucked her tongue. “Just look at those freckles.Hideous. You never listened to me about wearing a hat or the lemon juice. Well, I suppose it hardly matters now.”
Jemma’s hand came free and she swung straight up with all her might to catch Lady Corbett on the shoulder. The chair, still bound to Jemma’s other wrist swiveled against Lady Corbett’s skirts, catching her on her thigh.
The Governor’s wife stumbled, grunting in pain and surprise, but she did not go down. The pistol swung about wildly in her hand. “You little bitch.”
The chair, still tethered to Jemma, slid to the floor. Heaving with exertion, she lay on her side, kicking and pulling in a futile attempt to get away from the bore of the pistol. “Please, Lady Corbett. I am with child.” Her hand reached out and tried to grab at Lady Corbett’s ankle.
Lady Corbett stepped out of range of her questing hand. “All the more reason then,” she pointed the pistol at Jemma’s chest, “to dispose of you both at once."
I will not lay here like a wounded animal and allow her to shoot me.
Pointless though it was, she continued to attempt to free her other wrist. The cock of the pistol echoed in the room. “No.” She closed her eyes, thinking of Nick.
27
Nick surveyed the three ships from where he stood, assured that the harbormaster would allow none of them to leave port without his express permission. He had searched two of them personally. Colin and Rowan were now searching the third, but Nick doubted they would find anything. The Corbetts were aboard none of them, though he did find a seedy man of the cloth, torn bible in hand, attempting to escape unseen from the deck of one of the ships bound for Bermuda. A silk purse was found in his pocket. After questioning the minister, Nick knew only that Augustus Corbett had hired him to perform a marriage ceremony on board ship. After assuring himself that the man did not know where Jem was, Nick released him.
His sixth sense insisted stubbornly that Jem was here amongst the dilapidated buildings on the dock. “Where are you love?” He’d never been more terrified in all his life.
The feather light touch of a small hand against his coin purse startled Nick out of his thoughts. Immediately, he reached out to grab his would be assailant.
“Ow. Lemme go.” A grimy-faced boy, no more than nine or ten and dressed in rags wiggled on the end of Nick's hand like a fish on a hook.
“Trying to rob me? Don't you know who I am?” Nick snarled, shaking the boy.
The boy screamed for his friends as he caught a good look at Nick's eyes. “The Devil's got me! Help! Help!”
A group of equally dirty lads, watching from the far dock, scattered, running into dark corners and alleys like cockroaches, abandoning their friend without a backward glance.
“Let me go. I beg you.” The pickpocket kicked, his legs swinging wildly in his attempts to get away. “Oh, God. I didn't know it was you. Let me go Devil.”
“Yes, I’m the Devil.” Nick warmed to the task. He did not intend to hurt the boy, but the thought occurred to him that the lad might be of service in finding Jem. The boy ’s profession, that of a pickpocket, meant he noticed everyone on the docks. “Now if you wish to leave with your soul intact, you'll do me a small favor.” He lowered his voice to a growl.
The boy nodded enthusiastically. “Anything. Whatever you want. Just don't send me to hell. Don’t take my soul.”
Nick smiled, confident he’d be obeyed. “I am looking for a woman. Likely about your mother's age.” He peered into the lad’s face.
“I’ve got no mum.” The boy apologized sadly, suddenly looking bewildered. “She died last winter from the consumption.”
“Neither do I,” Nick said lightly, feeling a surge of pity for the small thief.
The boy cocked his head and some of the fear left his eyes. “Did she die of the consumption too?” Then he bit his lip. “Beggin’ your pardon, but I didn’t think the Devil had a mum.”
“You’ve been misinformed.” He shook the boy again. “An older woman then. Her hair is a faded red, like a copper pot that's been used poorly, and she looks as if she's eaten one too many tarts.”
“I think I seen her.” He smiled, showing several missing teeth. Nodding eagerly, he said, “I know I’ve seen her.”
The boy was in dire need of a bath, it was all Nick could do not to drop the lad and cover his nose. “You're not lying, are you?” Nick raised a brow. “We'll leave for hell right now if you are. What is your name?”
“Teddy Mac. And, I'd not lie to the Devil of Dunbar.” The boy's eyes, a light blue, regarded Nick solemnly. “If I was to lie, you'd find me again,” the boy reasoned. “I’ve heard—”
Nick shook his head in irritation. “Never mind that. What about the woman with red hair, Teddy Mac?” The boyhadseen Lady Corbett, Nick was sure of it.
“Do you mean to take her to Hell?” Teddy Mac no longer seemed terrified, merely curious. “She's not a nice lady, that's why I’m askin’.”
