The major’s mouth turned upward greedily. “What is the name of your…friend?” he asked.
“Pierce Rutherford,” Logan supplied.
The officer nodded. “I know this man.Follow me.”
Theyset off after him, surrounded by the rest of the soldiers.Then again, this wasn’t the first time thatRidgehad been here,buthe vowed it would be the last, for he’d made Isabella a promise, and he intended to keep it.
***
Isabella watched as Ridge and Logan took off with several French soldiers. How she had come to detest those blue uniforms over the years. And yet, there were plenty of red-coated patriots on these shores as well, laughing and chatting as they exchanged wares,allwhilston battlefields, the blood of their countrymen was being spilled.
She turned away from theporthole, unable to watchanymore.Ridge had told her why he was here, and yetshe prayedhe wasn’t also looking tolinehis pockets. It certainly didn’t seem likesomething he would do, and yet, when faced with the persona of One-Eye, did she really even know Ridge at all? She’d always thought he had two differentidentity traits, but which one was the truth, and which was the pretense?
Isabella rubbed her arms, feeling a sudden chill. Ridge had instructedfor her to remain where she was, butsurely going onto the deck for a moment to get some fresh air wouldn’tmatter overmuch. Andit wasnot as if she would engage the crew in conversation. She would stay out their way and keep to herself.
She went over to the door and slid themetalbolt back. Cautiously, she peeked outside, butthe passageway was deserted.Gathering her courage, she stepped away from the confines of the cabin and made her way up the stairson bare feet.
However,the moment she turned the corner, she flattened herself against the wood at her back, concealing herself from view in the shadow of the sails. Shestilledher breathingas she watched the low murmured exchange between the scarred crewman she’d first met on this vessel, and a French solider, the conversation striking fear into her heart, for it became quite obvious that they were speaking abouther.
“How doyou know this captive is worth anything?” the soldier asked with a scoff. “It sounds like she’s nothing but a bothersome Englishwoman, while you’re looking to line your pockets with our country’s coin.”
“Th’cap’n’s been guardin’’er, as if she was a prized treasure,” the crewman argued. “Surely that must count for somethin’. And th’ fact he hoisted’er up from th’ sea.”
“Now you’re just being nonsensical,” the soldier returned dryly. “I suppose next you’ll tell me that she’s a mermaid?”
“No. I think she’s Wistenberry’s escaped bride.”
Isabella covered her mouth with her hand. How did this man even know her tie to the viscount?
The Frenchman seemed to consider this. “That certainly puts a new light on the matter. He promised the lady as payment for his latest escapade. If you believe that she is the same woman, then perhaps I should go take a look—”
As they began walking in her direction, Isabella panicked. While she was still out of sight of the men, she ran toward the sternof theshipanddivedover the side, hittingthe water with a light splash. She broke the surface and clung near the edge of the vessel, waiting to see if her presence had been noted.If there was one thing she could be thankful for at the moment, it was that she was wearing trousers. It was certainly easier to tread water when her legs were free, rather than hindered with several layers of skirts.Andby wearing black, her presencewould be easier to hideunder the cover of darkness.
She heard a door slam, and her heart poundedas she waitedfor an alarm to be sent up. When she heard a string of curses from above, she swallowed heavily.
“She was’ere when th’ cap’n left, I swear it!”
She heard thehissof metalbeing withdrawn from a sheath. “I don’t take kindly to liars.”
Isabella closed her eyes as she heard therustle of quick movement, followed by the gurgle of life being expunged. Whenbrightred blood started to drip over theship’sside, she decided she’dstayedthere long enough.
Her arms still ached terribly, but she gritted her teeth past the pain untilshe reached the edge of the docks. There,she wondered what her next move would be, for she certainly couldn’t return to the ship. But dare she try to find Ridge in a place filled with cutthroats and miscreants who wouldn’t bat an eye when it came to handing her over to the enemy?
She looked around the busy harbor andspied a cartbeing loaded down withsuppliesnot far from where she bobbed in the water.Two Frenchmen appeared to be in charge of it, but whileherinterpretation of their native languagewasa bit rusty, she was able to discern enough to know that they were headed toward the Smuggler’s City. They threw a canvas tarp over the top and tied it down, and then headed toward the driver’s seat to pick up the reins.
As Isabella glanced around, shedecidedthis would be her best chance. It was now or never, so she pulled herself up out of the water and rushed toward the cart, the sharp pebbles tearing at her bare feet. Asthe wagonbegan to pull away, she slippedinside and curled up between two barrels.
Her heart was lodged in her throat as she closed her eyes and prayedthat no one had witnessed her latest stowaway attempt.
After a brief but particularly bumpy ride, the cart came to a halt. Isabellastiffened and drew shallowbreathsas a short exchange took place, and then they were on their way once again. She yearned to look outside, but she didn’t dare until she could be certain that she could leave undetected.She didn’t wish to push her luck any further than necessary.
Afterthey came to another halt, the cart rocked with the weight of the men leaving their perch,andshe realized that this was theirfinal destination.Whether or not she was ready, it was time to go.
She crawled out ofher hiding spotandsilentlyfell to the ground, rolling underthe cartandthenlying as still as possible. Again, fortune was smiling on her, for her presence hadn’t been noted. She peered out at the darkness, but other than a few bobbing lanterns to light theway of thefew soldiers who were strolling among the encampment with its variousshadowedoutbuildings, it was difficult to discern much else.
She was starting to think she’d embarked on a rather foolish endeavor when a familiar British accent reached her voice, the footsteps close to where she crouched under the cart.
Her heart sank when she realized whom it belonged to, and she feared herluckwas about to run out.
