“Shite,” the Scotsman hissed.
While the one holding Eleanor began to drag her away from the commotion, the man she believed to be Barnaby Weathers tossed his bow aside and—completely ignoring the dagger—charged his shoulder into Ackerly’s abdomen. They both slammed back against the carriage and a grappling, pummeling fight began in earnest.
It seemed to Eleanor that the inevitable victor was obvious. Ackerly was not a fighter. But the lord managed to shout while narrowlydodging a large fist, calling for reinforcements from the ship anchored nearby.
She could already see movement as the crew stirred, shouting in response. Very soon, they’d be swarmed.
“Please,” she muttered as she was pulled backward around the rear of the carriage. “I don’t believe I’m your enemy.”
“You’re not my friend,” a husky female voice replied with the familiar intonations of India.
Eleanor stilled. Her mind racing through possibilities of what this could all mean.
If the man in the greatcoat was Barnaby Weathers, then who was this woman? Didn’t he say something about an assassin?
Before she could finish her avenue of thought, the sound of a carriage racing toward them clashed with the pounding steps of the ship’s crew as two new groups converged upon them. What had been a fight between two men now became an all-out brawl of multiple combatants. Despite the sudden increase in violence and commotion, the woman pulling her away from the fray didn’t pause to see what was happening. Eleanor was drawn deeper into the shadows around the opposite side of the carriage.
“Please,” she tried again, doing her best to resist the strength of the woman and ignore the occasional prick of the knife at her side. “I’m not with Lord Ackerly. He’s trying to abduct me. Your intervention has rescued me. If that man with you is Barnaby Weathers, then we are on the same side.”
“You’re wearing a stolen necklace,” the woman argued, clearly not convinced.
“It was part of a plan to draw Ackerly out. It worked a bit too well. Please, believe me. My friends…they might be hurt.”
“Neither you nor your friends are my concern. My duty is to protect the necklace.”
“Wait!” Eleanor gasped as a few loose pieces fell into place. “LikeAadesh.”
For the first time, the woman hesitated. Her arm tightened around Eleanor’s neck but she stopped pulling her away from the scuffle. “Where did you hear that name?”
“He is one of my friends. He was to keep watch over me as I engaged Ackerly. But something went wrong. I don’t know what happened.”
Her momentary captor didn’t reply. Nor did she release Eleanor.
“That could be him who arrived in the second carriage.”
Still nothing. The woman clearly didn’t know if she could trust her.
“Eleanor!” The desperate shout cut through the sounds of fighting.
It was Phin. Calling her name. Eleanor was suddenly awash with relief. But it didn’t last long. Even with Barnaby and possibly Aadesh to help, he was still up against an entire ship’s crew.
“They need our help,” Eleanor urged, panic crawling across her skin. “Take the necklace, if you must, but I have to go back.”
After a tense moment, the woman released a shrill whistle that managed to cut through the commotion on the other side of the carriage.
It was immediately answered by a matching whistle.
Assuming it was Aadesh, Eleanor didn’t wait any longer. As she twisted away from her captor, the woman released her and lowered the knife. Eleanor rushed back toward the melee, sensing the woman a step behind.
By the time they came around the carriage, the fight was over. Nearly a dozen men lay scattered across the ground. Many of them were unconscious, though a few rolled about, groaning in pain. Ackerly was one of the conscious ones who spouted vows of retribution while being held to the ground by a black-robed figure.
“Aadesh,” the woman behind her breathed before continuing past Eleanor.
Aadesh stood, placing one foot firmly on Ackerly’s back as he turned to the woman and exclaimed, “Drishti. What on earth are you doing here?”
Though deeply curious about the reunion, Eleanor desperately searched for Phin. She saw the Scotsman some way off, securing a few of Ackerly’s crewmen. Iago was also there, fetching rope from a pile of dockside supplies. But she didn’t see Phin.
Her chest tightened painfully. Icy fear trinkled through her blood stream as her hands and feet started to go numb. Lifting her hands to her chest, she tried to focus on taking deep breaths, but the panic still encroached.
