“Oh, I will. I have been celebrating the capture of Broderick Turner for quite a while, so I foresee no problem.”
“Good. Then I expect to see you tonight. Alone. And make certain to bring plenty of rope.”
“Rope?” he asked with a laugh.
She nodded. “I want to try something new.” Giving him a wink, she turned and walked away.
His husky laugh vibrated the air around her, sending chills down her spine. Was she strong enough to go through with this? She had to be. There was no other way.
Keeping her back firm, she crossed the street and walked into the nearest store before releasing her pent-up breath. She gathered the cloak tighter around her neck, so as not to show anyone else her immodest gown. She glanced out the window. Thank goodness Captain Wilkes had returned to his men.
And thank heavens Malcolm had kept up his end of the plan. He’d made arrangements with Mr. Percy, who usually sold his homemade liquor to the soldiers, to make certain this batch was extra potent for tonight. The good man had delivered the bottles earlier this afternoon, and from what she could see, the soldiers were already starting their night of pleasure.
From behind her, a man cleared his throat. She spun around to see one of the servants who had been at the house this morning. She was grateful that Malcolm had kept his word and kept all eyes on her to make sure she was safe.
He smiled and nodded. “Good day, Mrs. Worthington. Are you enjoying this fine weather?”
“But of course, Mr. Tolland.” She smiled. “How is your wife?”
“She is doing well.”
“Is she still suffering from headaches?”
“Only occasionally now.”
“Give her my regards.”
“Will do, Mrs. Worthington.” He nodded before leaving the shop.
She hurried out of the store and to her buggy. There was much to do before tonight’s entertainment, and she had to make certain every detail had been thought out. She couldn’t afford to make any mistakes. She also wanted Malcolm’s strong arms around her to feel the security in his embrace.
She smiled. With his love, nothing could go awry. Nothing at all.
*
Camilla blew onher cold hands. Her nerves jittered out of control, making her body shake from more than just the cool night breeze. She slowed her horse, leading him toward the back of the jail. Voices from the soldiers out front of the building echoed through the night.
She reassured herself everything would turn out as planned. She had nothing to fear. Malcolm would make certain of that.
After dismounting, she tiptoed to the back window and peeked inside. Captain Wilkes sat in a chair, leaning his elbow on the table as he twirled a stick between his fingers. It appeared as if he were the only person inside.
Forcing her legs to move, she hurried around to the front. One soldier sat in front of the door, slumped against the building, asleep. The other soldiers were far enough away that she could slip through without being caught.
She held her breath and inched closer. Her hand touched the doorknob, and she pushed. The hinges squeaked, and thankfully, the men didn’t turn to look.
Once inside, she closed the door. Captain Wilkes jumped from his chair, grinning. She scanned the surroundings and breathed a sigh of relief. He had indeed followed her instructions. From the corner cell of the room, Broderick rose from the cot and moved to the bars, his eyes widening.
She focused on the captain. A half-empty bottle of spirits sat on the table. She smiled. “Good evening, my darling man,” she whispered.
“Take off your cloak.”
As she unhooked the outerwear, she tried to steady her hands. The garment fell to the floor. The captain’s quick intake of breath told her that he approved of her choice of dress. It had taken three servants to alter one of Kat’s old gowns to make it more alluring, more scandalous than before.
Wilkes’s mouth hung agape. From the corner cell, Broderick groaned, resting his head against the bars. Her heart wrenched for this man and what he must be thinking of her.
“Woman, you are beautiful.” Wilkes’s gaze was riveted to her. “Come here.”
She swallowed hard and took her first step toward him, and with each step, her heart hammered faster. By the time she stood in front of him, her chest heaved so hard from fear that she thought she would lose the contents of her stomach. When he reached out, she held her breath, willing herself to remain strong. He grasped a lock of hair and caressed it, then let his fingers slide down the strands.
