The wagon eventually drew to a halt. There was a pause and then the scrape of keys in the lock that secured the barred door.
“Get out,” a brutish voice spoke.
Ida stepped down onto the pier and glanced around in all directions, still hoping and praying for a glimpse of Simon. Her heart sank as realization crashed over her with unforgiving force. He wouldn’t come. Although she was sure he’d done his best, he’d failed. She was about to leave England and he was out of time.
“Move,” one of the guards sneered next to her ear. He shoved her forward and laughed when she stumbled.
Swallowing the lump in her throat, Ida made her way toward the gangplank and onto the ship that would take her away from the man she loved. Defeated, she stepped onto the deck of the three-masted seagoing vessel.
“Keep moving,” another guard cried out. “Down the ladder you go.”
Ida grabbed the railing and followed the woman in front of her into the ship’s dim interior. A good thing, when the person behind her slipped and their foot hit her back. Holding on, Ida stopped her descent with a jarring yank to her shoulder. She winced in pain as the back of her shins scraped against the steps.
“Onward,” the guard yelled. “You’ll have plenty of time to rest while you’re sailing across the Atlantic.”
Rest? Was he deranged?
Clenching her jaw, Ida pulled herself upright. A hand clasped her arm and shoved her forward. When she looked back she saw it was another guard making sure all the prisoners kept a quick pace. She muttered a curse and forced her feet into motion. At least she wasn’t dead. Considering what had been done to her father, she supposed she ought to find solace in that.
Descending further into the bowels of the ship, Ida tried to accept her fate. No matter how much Simon loved her or how much he wanted to save her, it couldn’t be done. He wasn’t coming for her. It was too late.
Ida’s heart ached at that thought. He might not even know where she was right now. Everything had progressed so fast, she’d likely be gone before he found out.
Forced into an overcrowded space, she sought a small spot where she could sit. Men, women, and even children were pressed up against her. The stench from those who’d had no choice but to soil themselves was unbearable. But of course no considerations were made for any of these people. They were criminals, undeserving of respect and stripped of all their rights.
Shallow sobs from those who dreaded their fates filled the air. Ida closed her eyes and tried to block out the sound and the smell. She pictured Simon, the day he’d helped her bake tea-rolls with his shirt sleeves rolled up and flour dusting his cheek. She allowed herself to find peace in the memory of him, of his arms holding her close, the brush of his lips against hers, and the tenderness with which he’d cared for her when she’d been hurt. Even though his actions and beliefs when they’d first met had been guided by a need to satisfy others, he’d changed in a way she would never have thought a man of his upbringing could. Instead of living for everyone else, he’d started to live for himself, and she was so incredibly proud of him for finding the courage to do so.
She’d changed too because of him. She’d learned that life was too short to not risk one’s heart. Even if it led to unbearable pain, the chance to be loved and to love in return was a gift too precious to be squandered on fear. And she would love him forever, no matter where in the world she was. There would never be another Simon Garrison Nugent.
A low voice echoed from somewhere above. Additional muted shouts followed.
“They’re raising the gangplank,” a man murmured.
“May the lord be with us,” someone else said.
Merciless agony wrenched itself free from a place deep within Ida’s breast. It sliced its way through her and clutched at her heart until grief overwhelmed her. Hugging her knees she bowed her head and surrendered herself to the ordeal she now had to face. The future she’d hoped to share with Simon had never been more than a fragile dream. She’d lost. The ship she was on had already started to take her away from him.
The carriage had barely made it onto the pier before Simon was pushing the door open and leaping down from the slowing vehicle.
“Wait for me,” he yelled to the coachman while racing forward toward the first ship. A crew member was carrying a crate on board. Panting for breath, Simon practically spat his question. “I’m looking for a transport vessel. Do you know which one it might be?”
“Transporters tend to dock all the way at the other end. This area’s reserved for merchantmen.”
Simon looked toward the far end of the pier. It had to be at least a mile away. He glanced at the hackney, then considered the crowd of people milling about and the crates and barrels and carts blocking the straight path he needed. The carriage would take too long to get there. It would get stuck weaving its way between all the goods and allowing people to pass. Which meant there was only one thing for it if he didn’t want to waste additional time. He had to run.
Heedless of how he might look, a gentleman dressed in beige breeches, blue coat tails, a mother-of-pearl jacquard waistcoat, and gleaming black boots, Simon clutched the chief magistrate’s release order and sprinted forward.
Finding a narrow path near the edge of the pier, he ran as if every desire he’d ever had waited for him at the other end. His hat toppled from his head, but he didn’t care nor slow his pace, he just kept going, mindful of only one thing – one person – one dream.
Ida.
He had to reach her, had to save her, had to bring her home.
His heart beat so hard he feared it might crack a rib. Sweat permeated his shirt until it clung to his back. His lungs burned, protesting the rapid intake of air.
Ignoring every discomfort, Simon kept running, not stopping until the final vessel came into view. Ropes were being cast off from the bollards and pulled aboard. The men who’d seen to the task hurried onto the ship and then the gangplank was being lifted.
Simon forced his feet to move so fast he almost stumbled. “Wait.”
