“Impressive,” he murmured. “But you’ll have to do better than that.”
Isaac lunged, steel flashing as he aimed for Thorne’s side, but the pirate was faster, sidestepping with an ease honed from years at sea and countless battles.
The pirate’s blade whipped forward in a ruthless counterstrike, slicing a shallow line along Isaac’s forearm. Hot pain flared sharp and immediate, but Isaac clamped his jaw, refusing to falter. He twisted away, using the momentum to bring his sword in a wide arc, aiming to disarm. Thorne blocked, their blades clashing with a ringing clang that echoed off the water and wooden planks. Above, the sky shifted as the first cool drops splattered onto Isaac’s face.
“What is it with you men and your women?” Thorne sneered. “Always risking everything for them. Love’s a poison, Lieutenant. It’ll be the death of you.”
Isaac ignored the taunt and pressed forward, driving his opponent back with a series of sharp strikes. Each clang of steel against steel echoed his mounting fury. Lightning cracked and the heavens opened above, a torrent crashing down. The pirate gave ground, boots slipping as he neared the wharf’s edge. But just as the advantage seemed certain, Thorne’s eyes flickered with cold calculation.
With a sudden shift of weight and a twist of his wrist, the captain seized control as their weapons met in a grinding lock. With a snarl, he leaped inside Isaac’s guard and slammed a shoulder into his chest. Isaac stumbled. Before he could recover, Thorne’s blade hooked his, but Isaac twisted, and both swords slipped from their grips. The weapons clattered across the boards before plunging into the river below.
A fist crashed into Isaac’s ribs, sharp and punishing, but Isaac didn’t flinch. He drove forward with a shout, barreling into the pirate hard enough to send them slipping across the slick boards. They grappled, blows landing fast and vicious as the storm roared around them, wind whipping spray in their faces, but neither man faltered. Isaac’sknuckles cracked into Thorne’s jaw, blood smearing across his fingers.
The pirate lunged, seizing the front of Isaac’s coat in a white-knuckled grip. “Let’s see how well you fight underwater.”
A moment later, they went over the edge of the dock, plunging toward the river in a tangle of limbs. At the last instant, Isaac’s hand shot out, catching a coiled rope near the edge. The jolt tore through his shoulder as his body slammed against a post, boots dangling above the murky waves. With a grunt, he hauled himself onto the dock, chest heaving as he scanned the water below.
Thorne surfaced a few yards out and faced Isaac, blood streaming down his chin. “Do me a favor, Lieutenant: tell Ross he can’t hide. I’ll find him. And he will pay.” He turned, arms cutting against the current and struck out into the river.
A muffled shout echoed across the water as a dark form materialized. TheAvengerswept in from the mist, slicing toward the docks as if summoned from the depths themselves. Lines flew out. Hands reached. Thorne’s crew hauled him aboard in a flurry of motion and shouted orders. Dripping and grinning, the captain climbed to his feet and gave a mocking salute. With a slap of sails, the ship vanished as fast as it had come, swallowed by the rain and swirling fog.
Boots thudded on the stairs behind him. Isaac didn’t move. His chest still heaved from the fight, blood trailing warm and steady down his arm.
“Isaac!” Samantha’s shout broke through the storm. She reached him first, boots splashing through a puddle. “You’re hurt.”
Christian followed close behind, his coat soaked through, face taut. “What happened?”
Isaac met his friend’s eyes, the unspoken truth passing between them.
Christian’s jaw clenched. “Where is he?”
Isaac’s gaze flicked toward the dark horizon, water sluicing down his face. “He’s gone. The ship came out of nowhere… and then vanished into the storm.”
“Did you tell him where Ross went?”
“I told him he was going to Washington.” The deception flowed smoothly off Isaac’s tongue, though his heart clenched with every word. He hadn’t breathed a word to Thorne. If Christian went to Washington, all the better. Unfortunately for the Rosses, Thorne was far too cunning to lose their trail for long—he would sail to New Orleans.
Christian held Isaac’s gaze, eyes narrowing slightly as if weighing the shape of his response, testing its seams for weakness. The rain drummed steadily around them, muffling the world to a hush. Finally, he gave a single nod. “Good. What about Miss Montclair?”
Isaac wiped the blood from his chin, the sting in his bruised ribs sharpening with every breath. “I shouldn’t go. Not with Thorne so close. This could be my best chance at getting him.”
With a snort, Christian shook his head. “You have no ship. No crew. No plan. It’ll take time to get all that.” He turned to his wife. “Go with him. You two don’t need me for this. We’ll be better served if I stay behind and keep an ear to the ground for Thorne’s next move.”
A clean lie, as effortless as any Isaac had ever heard. He met his best friend’s eyes, searching for something—conviction, hesitation, doubt—but found only steel. He truly meant to go through with his idiotic scheme. So be it. He swallowed the burn in his chest and gave a tight nod.
Samantha glanced between them, her smile faltering for just a heartbeat before she squared her shoulders. “Alright. Let’s go get Josephine.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Amockingbird trilled.
Josephine’s hand clenched into a fist as the last rays of sunrise filtered through the palm trees. Damn the bird. Damn destiny. Damn all of it. She stared into the pink-hued sky, eyes tight and dry. She’d already spilled all the tears she held. Now, only a bitter emptiness remained.
This morning, her life would be upended.
Mrs. Wentworth.
She shuddered at the thought. They’d arrived too late last night for her to meet her intended. Which meant she would have to face him for the first time at the altar. She pressed trembling fingers to her lips, as if she could hold in the rising panic.
