Ollie was trying to protect her. For the first time since she’d been coming to the docks, genuine fear swept through her.
Would one of the workmen come looking for her? She ought to have brought Reginald or Trevor along for protection. She’d been far too confident for her own good.
But she wasn’t ready to give up yet. Even if the workmen failed to come looking for her, her brother’s servants would. But would they come quickly enough?
“Farley needs bait to get to Tempest.” The voice near her ear was almost gleeful.
“Then what are we waitin’ for?”
“Knock ‘er out, will ya? She’s tryin’ to bite me and we can’t exactly carry ‘er through the streets screaming an’ ‘ollerin’, now can we?”
Buck moved forward, flexing his fist, and Lydia realized that, for the first time in her life, she was going to be hit by another person. Terrified, she renewed her squirming and twisting and even managed to land a kick on the blighter behind her, but it was no use.
The last thing she saw was a bloodied wrist flying toward her face. Her last thought was that Reginald and Trevor were not going to come in time to save her.
And her last feeling was fear, not for herself, but for Ollie and Jeremy.
And then everything turned black.
TREACHEROUS WATERS
“The bastard no doubt took for granted these records wouldn’t survive down here.” Baxter grimaced and then let out a low whistle. “How could Rudolph not have realized what his brother was up to?”
“Rudolph never would have sold if he had.”
Jeremy carefully examined a faded record and then tossed it aside. He’d suspected the records might be in Ludwig’s half flooded basements but hadn’t expected this.
Each mildew-ridden box required meticulous care while opening; the first one having practically fallen apart in his hands when he’d moved to carry it to the offices upstairs.
He flicked his gaze around the soggy basement. Considering the waterlines on the walls, as well as the bog-like floor, it was a wonder any records remained intact.
That was why they were opening them in place and documenting items of significance in the shadowy light of a few lanterns.
He, Baxter, and a few of his clerks had been at it for hours, and an alarming pattern was beginning to emerge. With Arthur on the front lines, Jeremy had followed the progress of both sides of the conflict diligently, religiously even, and each clusterof losses Ludwig Bros. incurred had preceded unprecedented enemy victories. The timeline of events was too uncanny to be a coincidence.
“So they were paid by the government to ship them and then took a second payment after handing supplies over to the insurgents.” Baxter shook his head. “Here’s more payments from Leo to Farley.” He set the receipt on an increasingly growing pile. Periodically, one of Jeremy’s trusted clerks would climb down the rickety steps to transport them upstairs.
With each receipt found that didn’t list Arthur’s name, Jeremy was that much closer to his goal. He rubbed the back of his neck and carefully extracted another file just as the door at the top of the narrow stairway opened and closed. Rather than his clerk’s etched and tired-looking face, however, Lord Westerley appeared.
He and his countess, as importers of American Whiskey, were very interested in wiping the docks clean of the current gang activity, and last night, the earl had offered up any assistance he could provide.
“Damn, Tempest. I thought you’d be out by now.” Westerley had to bend over in order to avoid the overhead joists as he moved deeper into the dungeon-like room. “Why don’t you just have them brought upstairs?”
In answer, Baxter lifted the corner of one of his rejected receipts, which promptly tore in two. “They might not make the trip that way.”
Jeremy glanced at his time piece. He was going to have to send word to Lydia that he couldn’t escort her to the warehouse today. He could not leave this task unfinished. They were over halfway through the boxes and he’d not yet found any evidence that Arthur had been involved.
All would be settled by tomorrow. And then he could ask her that all important question. She would understand.
Jeremy cast off the receipt in his hand and took up another. It was dated almost two years ago, April 12th, 1828, and listed names that had become quite familiar to him by now. But there was a smudged one that he had not seen on any of the others.
Jeremy lifted it closer to his eyes and squinted. His heart sank.
Coming awake,Lydia opened her eyes and saw… nothing. Confused, she blinked, and her eyelashes brushed against rough fabric. It took her a moment to understand what that meant.
Was this a nightmare? She was blindfolded!
And her hands were bound!
