The man on the boat looked across at him but did not respond. He turned his back and continued hauling up the sail.
‘We’re looking for a man and a woman who are seeking passage across the channel,’ Harry called out.
The man kept his back resolutely to the shore, and the little boat began to slip out along the channel towards the estuary.
Harry and Sebastian exchanged glances and, without speaking, ran back to the horses. They swung into the saddles and turned the horses to follow the patched sail as the boat met the sea on the turning tide.
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Isabel lay braced and alert next to Freddy as the minutes ticked past with agonising slowness. Her heart fell as he jerked awake, sitting up and pulling his watch from his pocket. He swore and, extracting a knife from his boot, sawed at Isabel’s bonds, leaving the gag in her mouth.
He hauled her to her feet and pulled her towards the entrance. When she resisted, a blow from his left hand sent her sprawling.
‘I don’t have time for nonsense, you stupid bitch. I slept too long. If we don’t hurry we’ll miss the boat.’
With her ears ringing and the taste of blood in her mouth, she could do nothing except let him pull her to her feet and push her out of the doorway.
Running now, Freddy dragged her across the dunes and down towards the seashore. The wet sand marked the retreating tide.
Freddy swore again and stopped dead, waving an arm in the direction of a little boat, its red sail raised, that traversed the estuary out of a creek mouth and into the broad water. Isabel’s heart lurched. Was this their transportation? Were they too late?
Hope kindled for a moment and then extinguished as the man on the boat waved an acknowledgment.
Freddy pulled her down to the water’s edge, propelling her towards the water, which lapped at her ankles, filling her boots. She shook her head, resisting his restraining hand. He responded by putting his arm around her shoulder, drawing her closer.
‘He’s going to bring the boat in close. You’ll get a little wet, my dear, but I don’t think that will matter. When we reach Holland, you can have all the dresses you desire.’
He pushed her forward, and she stumbled, going down on her knees in the cold water.
He cursed and pulled her to her feet. ‘Get a move on,’ he said.
A shout from the man on the boat, carried on the wind, reached them, and Isabel could see the man pointing down the beach. She turned to see where he indicated and gave a joyful gurgle as she saw two horses, emerging from the estuary onto the sand. The riders kicked their horses into a gallop and would be on them within a few breaths. Her heart soared as she recognised the black horse—Pharaoh. Surely only one man could ride that beast with such assurance.
Freddy’s gaze moved from the horsemen to the boat and back again. He pulled out his knife and, with one hand under Isabel’s chin, tilted her head back, exposing her throat. He held the knife against her throat as the horsemen drew to a shuddering halt some fifteen yards from where Isabel and Freddy stood knee deep in water.
Isabel raised her eyes, hardly daring to hope.
He was alive ... alive.
She closed her eyes, hardly daring to open them again in case this was a vision—an apparition. But it was Sebastian, hatless, his dark hair plastered wetly to his scalp, his face lined with exhaustion.
‘’Bastian ...’ She gurgled his name behind the gag that bound her.
‘Don’t come any closer,’ Freddy shouted, his words disappearing in the rain-laden wind.
‘Isabel!’ That low, well-beloved voice.
She must have moved. Freddy’s knife bit into the flesh of her neck, and warm blood trickled down her neckline.
‘Stay very still, Isabel, and you won’t get hurt,’ Freddy said, his mouth so close to her ear that she felt his breath. ‘The boat is just offshore. We’re going out to meet it.’
Isabel cried out in alarm, struggling within Freddy’s grasp as she tried to communicate to him that she could not swim and had a fear of water. Memories of a small, dark face, struggling in the grip of the blue waters of Jamaica, came back to her, and her breath came in strangled bursts, tears starting in her eyes.
He ignored her and, tightening his grip on her, walked backwards into the water, his eyes on the two horsemen.
Icy cold water lapped around her legs, dragging at her skirts. She tried to pry Freddy’s hand away from her neck, but his grip was immutable.
A wave crashed against them. Isabel’s feet gave way, upsetting Freddy’s balance and forcing him to loosen his grip on her. He gave a cry of frustration and seized her wrist, dragging her through the waves.
