“You had doubts?”
“Well, we put this scheme together at the last minute. And Percy has been known to muck things up.”
“Known? It used to be guaranteed!” Jack said. “But that hasn’t happened in years, correct? Or you wouldn’t have enlisted his help.”
“Indeed, Percy can be depended on these days to follow instructions to the letter. He even writes them down!”
Percy had been sent to Knighton’s Hall to hire every brawny fighter he could find and to go elsewhere if there weren’t enough there, until he couldn’t fit any more in his large coach. The lone fellow stood gazing in the opposite direction, not even glancing back their way. He appeared to be watching Percy and his driver, who were bent over, pretending to inspect one of the coach’s wheels.
“The moment of truth has arrived,” Jeremy said.
“He’s tall enough to be the mysterious chap,” Jacqueline told her brother. “And has the same color hair, though I didn’t think it was that long.” The blond queue fell halfway down the man’s back. “But Bastard has black hair, so if that was him at the ball, he was wearing a wig then and is now.”
“So you think it’s Bastard?”
“I’m not absolutely sure, but I’ll know as soon as he turns around. I’ll never forget that face.”
Jeremy jumped out of the chaise, looking up at her to say, “Wait—”
She jumped down beside him before he could finish, eliciting a distinct sound of annoyance from her brother. But they approached the man together. And the man must have finally heard them because he turned. He was wearing the damned mask from the ball? A suitor wouldn’t at this point—would he? But Bastard certainly would, because he knew she wouldn’t go near him if she saw that he was the man who had abducted her in Bridgeport.
She was incredulous that he would still pretend to be her mystery man. Jeremy put his arm out to stop her from getting any closer.
“That’s not going to do, mate,” Jeremy said in one of his more unfriendly tones. “Take off the mask or my sister gets back in the carriage.”
“I will,” her mystery man said.
But he made no move to do that—and that’s when men charged out of the coach behind them, which hadn’t gone around them after all, and more men were hopping over the low wall by the riverbank beside them. Percy and his men, some twenty feet away, were running forward to help, but they weren’t close enough yet. And despite the extra thugs who had jumped over the wall to surround Jeremy, someone still tried to disable her brother with a board to his head. At the horrible-sounding crack Jack turned with a gasp to see her brother stagger, but he had a hard head. He shot that fellow, then dropped another with the butt of his spent pistol and took his fists to a third. And where the devil was her escort?
Also surrounded. She saw it now beyond that other coach. Her guards had been rushed upon, too. She wasn’t even sure those four bruisers, as big as they were, could win against dozens of men trying to get at them.
It was a bloody army of riffraff, back there, here, and she felt a moment of terror when she saw that some of them looked like pirates. Those near her had split up, half of them surrounding Jeremy, and the other half turning to deal with Percy’s men. But Jeremy was holding his own. He was extremely tall like Anthony and just as muscular. And while he wasn’t as good with his fists as their father was, he was still an exceptional fighter, brutal when needed, and had already dropped four more of the attackers to the ground. But when one fell, another took his place. There were simply too many of them! He got tripped, and the moment he was down, fists and boots descended.
Jacqueline went a little crazy seeing that and leapt at the men blocking her view of Jeremy, afraid they were going to kill him. “I don’t think so” was said as she was yanked out of the fray and then cheekily, “I knew you couldn’t resist me, Jack.”
She sucked in her breath, recognizing that voice clearly now and started to reach for her pistol. But Percy had reached her by then, yelling, “Jack, let’s go!” He grabbed her arm, which yanked her hand out of her pocket! Damnit, bad timing as usual for him, yet he let go after nearly dragging her down with him when one punch knocked him out. And the puncher was the Mask. Bastard!
Fear and fury overwhelmed her, that she’d underestimated him. They were supposed to capture him, not be captured! And she felt horrible that she’d put Jeremy and Percy in danger, for nothing! And even worse, she’d given her father’s enemies exactly what they wanted—something to use to manipulate him.
In a rage, she turned with her right fist swinging, only to get instantly flipped about, but he’d already removed the mask, revealing that handsome hated face. “Tactics I remember well,” he said, actually sounding nostalgic! Then to his men: “Bring the gents if they still live.”
He’d already put a hand over her mouth so she couldn’t scream at him. His arm went around her waist now to clasp a steely grip on her other arm near the elbow. She was lifted off her feet and only saw in the briefest moment that the eight burly men surrounding her brother had stepped back—because Jeremy was no longer moving.
Horrified that Jeremy might be dead, she clamped her teeth on the palm across her mouth, then tasted blood, she had no idea whose, then the hand pressed tighter against her mouth.
But she was halfway down the stone steps by then, he was hurrying so fast with his prize.
Carrying her like that, he might as well have tied a strong rope tightly around her arms and torso. She couldn’t maneuver either of her hands to reach her pocket and the weapon in it. But her feet weren’t restrained and were dangling near his shins, so she lifted her legs to slam her boot heels back against Bastard’s knees to cripple him, bracing herself for a fall down the remaining stairs if she was successful. It would have worked if he were shorter, but all she got was a hiss out of him when her heels slammed against his lower thighs. Well, the arm about her middle tightened, too, which cost her some breath.
That wouldn’t have stopped her from kicking him again, but there was no time left to try it. She’d seen the two waiting longboats at the bottom of the stone steps where the water was lapping at high tide. The two boats were big enough to accommodate ten rowers each, but that didn’t account for all the men who had been on that street, more men than a ship would need for a crew. Were they not all sailors?
Two men had even been left with the boats, one in each of them. And Jack was utterly jarred when Bastard leapt into one of them.
She was set down hard on the back bench to face the ships anchored directly ahead of them out in the Thames. With absolute efficiency one of the other rowers put a gag over her mouth so the hand, bloody she hoped, could be removed. She was reaching for her pocket again but the two men behind her were quicker. Even as the gag was tied, her arms were dragged behind her back and her hands tied there just as quickly.
Another loud thud came from behind her, which she guessed was Jeremy being tossed into the boat as well. They wouldn’t bring him along if he was dead, would they? Small hope, but hope nonetheless. Then the boat swayed alarmingly as the others got into it and took up the oars.
Not much had been said during the entire kidnapping other than shouted curses, groans, and what Bastard had said there at the end. The thugs remained silent as the longer rowboat was maneuvered about and swiftly rowed away from shore. She faced the riverbank now and saw other men being carried or helped down the stairs to that other longboat. She couldn’t see Percy’s coach, but she could just make out the top of Jeremy’s chaise beyond the low wall at the top of the stairs, and the bigger coach behind it. Had it followed them all the way from Berkeley Square?
