“I asked you first.”
“How do I know that I can trust you?”
“I have not shot you yet.” Despite carrying the crate earlier, he still kept hold of the pistol out of precaution. Just because there was a woman and children had not meant there weren’t men waiting in the forest ready to arrest or do physical harm.
He should know, he had once hid in a girls’ school when he had been pursued. He wouldn’t put it past a French spymaster to use a woman and girls to disarm him, at least cause him to lower his guard and open himself up to capture.
The woman, who he assumed to be around three and twenty, or maybe four and twenty, crossed her arms over her chest and straightened her spine. “I shan’t tell you who I am until I know who you are.”
Bloody hell.
“Rhys McNaught, formerly of England. Your turn.”
“What is an Englishman doing on a French island in the middle of a war?”
Well, he couldn’t exactly tell her the truth. “What is an English woman doing on a French island in the middle of a war?”
“We were put here.”
Yes, by a boat manned by Cornelius who was now dead.
“What did you do with the boat?”
“It is out there.” She pointed to the edge of the water.
“Where anyone can see it!” he nearly raged.
“It is a boat and they belong in the water.”
Cornelius must have been close to death when they reached the shore, otherwise, the boat would not have put in there.
“Stay here.”
Rhys marched across the beach until he reached the boat then pushed it into the water, got inside, then started to row it toward the concealed inlet when he realized that it was taking on water. A hole, a large one, was just above the water line, until a wave hit it, and then it was below. If he were lucky, he would make it to hiding before the blasted thing sank.
He also noticed there was blood on the seats. Not much, but enough to offer proof that Cornelius had been gravely injured when he went about saving the females.
Rhys was not one to act on assumptions, but facts, so he would not settle on what happened until he knew for certain.
After Rhys had the boat tied off in the inlet, he returned to the woman who had not yet given him her name.
“What exactly happened to this Cornelius fellow?”
“He was shot and lived long enough to direct us to the beach.”
“He could not have been too badly injured if he was able to row.”
The woman pursed her lips. “I suppose you think that only a man would be up to such a task.”
No, he did not but he had made that assumption of her.
“I apologize,” he finally said. “How did you not sink in that thing?” The weight of Cornelius, the woman, and children would have been enough so that it rode low, thus water would have flooded the boat.
“It did not get the hole until we were closer to shore and struck something in the water. I do not know what it was because it was too dark to see.”
“It will need to be fixed.” He would see to it as soon as all was settled here. That boat would be needed to get them off the island if it became necessary.
“Now, tell me who you are.”
