Her headache grew worse the longer she pondered all these confusing questions. But one question remained. If Broderick was indeed Captain Hawk, then the pirate couldn’t be as ruthless as rumors indicated. Broderick Worthington was now—and had always been since she first met him—the kindest and gentlest man she’d ever known. There would be no way he could be anything else. She had gotten to know therealman, the man who fought with his fellow countrymen trying to keep their country safe from the controlling lord chancellor’s grasp. Broderick was the man who would do anything to help the woman he loved locate her mother. And he would do anything to help Emmie now.
Once again, panic wrenched her heart. He didn’t know he was walking into a trap. She must not allow that to happen. She needed to figure out where she was, and how to get out of these ropes that bound her to this very uncomfortable chair.
She tried to smell the things around her. As she took a deep sniff, she nearly gagged. Wherever she was being kept prisoner, it was moldy and dusty. She prayed she didn’t sneeze.
The more she concentrated on her whereabouts, the more she realized the floor rocked slightly, and she felt off-center.A ship?She’d gone sailing enough times with her father when she was younger to know the feeling well. Without a doubt, she wason some kind of ship, and by the fetid scent, she was below deck in a room that wasn’t used very often.
Her mind returned to the group still talking. Oh, why hadn’t she been paying better attention? She trained her ears on what the other two were saying.
“Whatever happens, I cannot be here,” Rebecca said. “I don’t want my cousin to see me.”
“What will it matter?” the lieutenant asked. “He will die soon enough.”
Rebecca huffed. “It’s the principle of the matter.”
The second man laughed, and once again, Emmie felt she knew him from somewhere.
“Oh, Miss Crampton. You are so two-faced, it’s almost laughable. You are the very reason we can capture Broderick Worthington, yet you think all you have to do is use a little soap and your sins will be washed away?”
“How dare you insinuate—”
“Miss Crampton, I don’t need toinsinuate. Your actions speak loud enough.”
“Lieutenant Mercer?” Rebecca stomped. “Are you going to allowthis manto speak to me in such a condescending tone?”
Mercer chuckled. “Miss Crampton, you act as if you are royalty. You’re not, so if I were you, I would shut my mouth and keep it closed.”
“I don’t need to stand here and take this kind of treatment.”
“No, you don’t,” the lieutenant answered, “but if you want your money, you will.”
If Emmie wasn’t so upset over Rebecca’s betrayal, she would have laughed. Indeed, Rebecca was two-faced, and Emmie was glad the other men knew it. Still, deep down inside, she felt Rebecca’s life might be in danger now because of what she’d done.
“As for you, my friend,” the lieutenant continued, “I think you should depart posthaste. You don’t need Mr. Worthington seeing that you are working for me. And our prisoner doesn’t need to see you, either.”
“You are correct, Lieutenant Mercer, as always. From what I have heard of Lady Sarah, she is a little spitfire.” The other man chuckled. “I will definitely be in touch, soon, to find out how everything transpires.”
“I’m in hopes that our plans will flow smoothly.”
Irritation grew inside her. Whoever this man was, surely he hadn’t heard the correct information about her. She wasnota spitfire. Still, it bothered her that she hadn’t pinpointed his identity.
After the unknown man left, silence stretched in the room for a few moments. Emmie tried to keep her breathing slow instead of what her quick heartbeat was dictating. She was certain the other two were watching her now. She must not appear as if she’d been awake this whole time.
“So, Miss Crampton, I suppose we should see to our prisoner now.”
“As long as you don’t remove her blindfold. I don’t want her seeing me.”
Mercer chuckled. “You are so typical. Always thinking of yourself.”
Rebecca huffed again. “Well, considering I’ll continue to live a normal life, as well as Lady Sarah, I don’t need her knowing the identity of the one who planned her kidnapping.”
“Actually, my dear, confused woman”—the lieutenant’s voice turned charming again—“I was the one who planned her kidnapping.”
Their footsteps neared Emmie. She feared they would notice the bodice of her gown moving so fast due to her erratic heartbeat. Silently, she prayed they would not. She remainedin the same position she’d been when she had awoken, with her chin resting on her chest. She smelled them near her, and although the man didn’t stink, he definitely didn’t smell as pleasant as Broderick.
Calloused, dry fingers pressed against her neck, and it was all she could do not to jump out of her own skin.
“She is alive. I worried that when I hit her to knock her out, it might have been too hard.”
