Not far from him was another inn. Broderick hurried toward that establishment. As he walked inside the building, his foot caught on the rug, and he stumbled into a man. Righting himself, he opened his mouth to apologize as he looked into the other man’s eyes.
“Pardon my clumsiness, sir—” Recognition hit as excitement shot through Broderick. “Benjamin Spencer, you are just the man I came looking to find.” He grasped the man’s shoulders. “You don’t know how happy I am to see you.” It was then he noticed a traveling satchel in Ben’s hand, as if he were leaving.
“Mr. Worthington. What a pleasure it is, indeed. I was just on my way out, but we could sit at the table and order drinks if you would like.”
“There is no time.” Broderick lowered his voice. “I need you and the others. Mercer is in town and has kidnapped someone I hold dear.”
Ben frowned. “Are you certain?”
“Yes.”
“But then why did you order us to leave Brighton?”
Broderick blinked. “I did?”
“Aye, captain. Yesterday, George and I were told that you no longer needed our presence here, and to meet you back at the ship in a fortnight because we’d be sailing again.”
“You received this information yesterday? What time were you told this?”
“In the evening.”
Something wasn’t right. A painful throb began in the base of Broderick’s skull as he collected his thoughts. There was only one man who would give such instructions. And because they were deliberately false and meant to lead Broderick astray, this only meant one thing.
With a sinking, saddened heart, he realized he had finally found the traitor amongst his crew.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Emmie didn’t knowhow she could doze off while sitting in an uncomfortable chair with her arms and legs tied with ropes, but she had. She shook her head, forcing herself to wake up. Her stomach growled, and she really didn’t want to have to ask Lieutenant Mercer for something to eat, yet she needed food in her stomach. When someone finally came to rescue her, how could she help if she didn’t have the strength?
She listened for any sounds around her, but couldn’t detect any. It had been a while now since she’d heard Rebecca’s whiny voice, and her fear returned. Had Mercer killed the poor, misguided, stubborn woman? Emmie prayed for Mr. and Mrs. Crampton’s sake that their daughter was still alive.
Silence grew in the room. Everything seemed so very still. Once in a while, she heard the waves slapping against the ship, but by the slow rocking of the vessel, she could tell they weren’t sailing. Perhaps there was a wind tonight.
What worried her was that she couldn’t hear Lieutenant Mercer, either. Earlier, he had been talking to another man, but as before, they whispered their conversation so she couldn’t hear any words. Not knowing how much time had passed, she could only hope that Mercer had retired to bed. But if he expected Broderick, she was certain the lieutenant would not sleep until the man she loved was captured.
“Is anyone there?” she asked softly, and waited.
No noise. Nothing different was detected from a few moments earlier. So perhaps she was by herself after all.
Her arms and legs were pretty much numb by now, but she tried to struggle out of the ropes binding her wrists. She tugged and tugged with all her might, and after a few minutes, she had to stop and catch her breath. Being so weak, there was no way she could get out of these ropes.
Tears pooled in her eyes, and she didn’t have the willpower to hold them back from falling down her face. It didn’t matter, since her blindfold soaked up the moisture anyway.
Helplessness swept over her, and for the first time since she was kidnapped, she felt as if her doom was very near. Lieutenant Mercer would kill her just as soon as Broderick arrived. And she had no doubt he would come for her, not thinking about his own safety at all. She at least hoped the lieutenant would let her tell Broderick she loved him before he killed her. If only she could have told her mother, brother, and father the same thing. If only…
Her thoughts skidded to a halt. Had she just heard a noise? Holding her breath, she listened again. After a few moments came the same scrape she’d heard.
She held still, listening intently. Although she wasn’t really frightened of mice, she was tied up and so wouldn’t be able to shoo the rodent away if it neared her. The noise definitely couldn’t be Mercer, because he made enough commotion to let the whole ship—and the fishes under the sea—know he was walking. So, where could that noise be coming from?
Another scrape sounded, from the door this time. Maybe Rebecca was returning. Emmie almost hoped so, because then she’d be reassured Broderick’s cousin hadn’t been killed after all.
Holding her breath, Emmie listened for more. Silence lasted another few minutes before she heard a different sound. It was the squeak of the door opening. She even felt the brush ofcooler air across her feet. From underneath the blindfold, a tiny amount of light came into the room. It wasn’t until now that she realized how dark the room had been.
Very soft footsteps—more than set—came inside before the door squeaked again, followed by the click of the door closing. If Rebecca had returned, who was with her?
Within seconds, the footsteps quickened—but were kept light—and coming her way. Someone neared, and she felt the warmth of another body kneeling beside her chair as tender hands touched her tied ones. A familiar masculine scent filled her senses and made her heart sing with joy.
“Broderick?” she whispered.
