“He was one of Napoleon’s soldiers. His name was Harold Mercer, but you probably don’t even remember him.”
“You’re correct, I don’t recall that name, but if he was one of Napoleon’s soldiers, and he tried to harm me or one of my friends, then indeed, he deserved to die.”
Growling, the lieutenant lifted his pistol and pointed it to Broderick’s forehead. Broderick held his breath, tightening his embrace of Emiline.
“Youdeserve to die,” Mercer ground out through his teeth. “Right here and now.”
“Oh, but you forget,” Broderick quickly said. “You were not going to kill me right away. Remember?”
The other man scowled and jerked his weapon away from Broderick’s head. He dared breathe in relief. Now, if he could only figure out a way to get out of this situation without being killed, he’d be doing better than he first thought.
He surveyed the other three men standing around them, their pistols aimed at Broderick and his uncle. It surprised him to see Phillip wasn’t with them, but he figured his first mate wasn’t present because he was trying to remain the traitor amongst the crew. Well, Broderick would deal with him soon enough. First things first. He needed to somehow figure out how he could draw his own pistol and kill at least one of these idiots here without getting Emiline or Uncle Henry shot in the process.
Slowly, Broderick moved his hand toward his pistol, but Lieutenant Mercer saw and shook his head.
“Tsk, tsk, Captain Hawk. I would not do that if I were you. Keep your hand away or the woman dies now, in your arms.” The lieutenant tilted his head. “Wouldn’t that beromantic?”
If Broderick could strangle the man at this moment, he would, but a quick death would be more to his liking. He must remember the lessons in patience his friends William and Marcus had taught him.
“Then again,” Mercer continued, “perhaps dying in each other’s arms would be more romantic? Eh, Captain Hawk?”
Subtly, Emiline’s hand slid into the pocket of his overcoat… the same pocket where he had tucked one of his pistols. His heartbeat quickened. This would get her killed, and he couldn’t let that happen.
“I’m not going to die, and neither is Lady Sarah.” Broderick hoped to keep Mercer and the other three focused on him and not Emiline. “Is that not correct, Uncle? None of us will die tonight—only the ones with the lieutenant.”
“Uh, yes.”
Broderick’s ploy worked, because all four men switched their attention to Henry. Emiline slowly slid the pistol out. Broderick sneaked his free hand around his back as she handed him the weapon.
“It’s not my intention to die tonight.” Henry lifted his chin. “And from all the things I have heard about Captain Hawk, I happen to think that my nephew will prevail this evening as well. Haven’t you ever heard that the bad guysalwaysreceive their comeuppance?” His gaze moved from one man to the other.
Lieutenant Mercer moved closer to Henry and gave him an evil stare. “You’re too cocky, like your nephew. And your daughter is a lot like you as well—stubborn to a fault.”
Henry took a shaky breath. “Where is she?”
The lieutenant nodded down toward the floor. “She is below deck sleeping. I was tired of her complaining, so I knocked her out.”
Henry’s jaw tightened, and Broderick prayed his uncle wouldn’t do anything foolish yet.
“Youhither?”
Mercer shrugged. “How else could I knock her unconscious?” He shook his head. “I’m surprised you haven’t done that to your daughter a time or two. She is certainly annoying enough.”
Emiline slipped her hand inside Broderick’s overcoat this time, sneaking her way to his other pistol. He hoped his uncle kept talking to keep the men focused on him instead of what she was doing.
“I swear, Lieutenant Mercer, if you lay one more hand on her, I’ll…” Henry stepped closer to the other man, going nearly nose to nose.
“You’llwhat, pray tell?” Mercer snickered.
“I’ll kill you.”
Lieutenant Mercer threw back his head and laughed. “What humor you possess, Mr. Crampton. From what I have learned about you, you cannot harm a flea.”
“That is because a flea has never given me the motivation to do so.”
Growling, Henry lunged forward and wrapped his hands around Mercer’s throat. The lieutenant gasped and dropped his pistol as he tried to pull Henry’s fingers away from his neck. Two of Mercer’s men stepped closer, pointing their weapons at Henry.
“Let him go,” one shouted.
