He didn’t release his hold on her. “Let go of me,” she said. “I think I’ve had quite enough of being manhandled for one day.”
“At least I have no plans to kill you. I think the smartest thing I can do right now is to take you away from here until the police find out what’s going on.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” she said affably. “But don’t worry—I won’t linger. I’ll be heading to the coaching inn or the train station.”
He laughed. “You don’t have any money, my sweet liar. I haven’t paid you, and it would be a rare maidservant indeed who had enough to move on.”
“I’m a very rare female,” she shot back, squirming. She could bring up her knee when he didn’t expect it, but she really, really didn’t want to do that. Not to him. “Now let me go.”
“Let go of such a treasure?” he mocked her. “Not likely. You’re coming with me.”
“Oh, Jesus Christ, I’m not going to be abducted twice in one day!” she burst out, knowing Nanny Gruen would do more than wash her mouth out for the uncontrolled blasphemy.
Luca laughed, damn him. “I’m afraid you are. I’m taking you on board my new ship and we’ll get away from everything for a while. You’ll like her—she’s the prettiest little clipper ship that ever sailed the oceans.”
She had frozen. “No,” she said in a choked voice.
“Yes.”
“I… I can’t get on a boat.”
“Ship,” he corrected.
“I don’t give a bloody damn what you call it, I won’t get on one. You can’t make me.”
“You have the most atrocious language for a maidservant, did you know that? And I’m afraid I most certainly can. I’m much bigger and stronger than you, and if I leave you behind someone will kill you. I can’t in good conscience allow that to happen.”
“You don’t have a conscience, good or not,” she said wildly. “And you can’t make me. I’ll scream, I’ll tell people you’re kidnapping me, I’ll do anything I can to stop you.”
“I was afraid of that, sweetheart,” he said, and he loosened his grip on one arm. “I’m so sorry.”
“About what?” she said, just moments before everything went black.
Luca caught her deftly before she landed on top of the big man’s corpse. He realized with distant shock that he’d never hit a woman before. He hoisted her up and moved away, cradling her against him. He felt guilty. That was very odd—he wasn’t used to remorse. He did what he had to do. Life handed you choices and you made them and you didn’t waste your time worrying about it.
He’d had no choice but to clip Maddy Russell across the jaw, or she would have raised enough fuss to get half the people of Devonport down on him. He was tolerated in the dockside community because of his sailing skills and his wealth, but no one really liked a half-gypsy living in a house next to theirs.
He knew how to clock a man, to put them on the deck with a solid hit to the chin. He had to tone it down for a female, even one with as stubborn a jaw as Maddy had, and when she dropped bonelessly he even knew a moment’s fear that he had hit her too hard.
But she was breathing easily, her pulse felt strong, and a woman like Maddy Russell could withstand more than a very gentle knockout punch. Besides, he was saving her life, wasn’t he?
In the name of expediency he shifted her, tossing her over his shoulder like a sack of grain, and headed back down the walkway. It was almost full dark now, the streetlamps were being lit, and he paused long enough by the body of the first man to borrow his ropes and gag. He had no idea how long Maddy would be out—for the sake of his supposedly nonexistent conscience he hoped not for long—and he needed to get her trussed up enough so that he could get her aboard her namesake without her making a fuss. He needed to sail by the next tide, and he couldn’t afford to waste time subduing her.
He took the waiting carriage, simply because it was there, dumping her in the back before he jumped into the driver’s seat. There was nothing to tell him who had sent the men—it was a simple coach for hire. The notion that it might be Rufus Brown was absurd, but just to be on the safe side he’d send a note to the police before they set sail, informing them of the dead bodies and suggesting they might question Gwendolyn’s “dearest friend.” Stranger things had happened.
He drove through the streets of Devonport at a maddeningly slow pace. He was easily recognizable by most of the citizens, both for his height and his clear ancestry, but no one could see how tall he was in the driver’s seat of a brougham, and he kept his head down. Besides, he never drove anywhere in the city—no one would expect to see him there.
It was teatime, and the docks were deserted. Maddy was still and silent in the back as he pulled the carriage into the narrow lane near the dockside office of what had once been Russell Shipping.
Carrying her aboard ship was a risk, but he took it, not wanting to wait any longer. People down at the docks knew to mind their own business, particularly the few who were around at this time of day, and he bounded up the walkway with his precious parcel over his shoulder, looking neither right nor left.
Billy was still on deck, watching the stowing of gear, and he didn’t even raise an eyebrow at his unexpected return or the bundle over his shoulder. “I take it we’re setting sail again?” he said evenly enough.
“Next tide.” Luca disappeared down the passageway without another word, carrying her directly to his cabin. She was just beginning to stir, and while no one on his ship would blink if he had a screaming, struggling female on board, he’d just as soon not risk it.
In fact, it was only an assumption that none of the hardened men he sailed with would blink—he’d never had a screaming, struggling female aboard before. Kicking open his door, he dumped her on the berth, then glanced around the cabin. There was nothing she could break, nothing she could hurt herself with. She’d be safe enough, locked in, until they were well out to sea. He locked the door behind him, heading back on deck. Thinking back to her fury the moment before he clipped her, he wondered just how safe he’d be when she came to.
“Pull the gangplank,” he said as he came into the cool air.
“All the men aren’t back yet. This may be a small ship but you know we’ll need men to sail her, even if you’re only planning to go as far as France or Spain. You weren’t thinking of heading across the Atlantic, were you?”
“If I do we’ll pick up more crew. Why are you looking at me like that?”
Billy was smoking a clay pipe, looking so relaxed Luca wanted to hit him as well. Billy shrugged. “So, you’ve taken to your gypsy ways, have you? Carting off the girl of your fancy when no one else is looking? I knew you were an idiot for the girl, but I didn’t think you’d go this far.”
“I was never an idiot for her,” Luca said, controlling his irritation with an effort. “She’s a cheat and liar.”
“But a pretty one,” Billy pointed out. “She’s also an upper-class lady, no matter what her father may or may not have done. What makes you think you can carry her off like this without someone raising a fuss?”
“Such as?”
“Hasn’t she got a family?”
“Not close enough to keep proper reins on her. If they knew where she’d been the last few weeks they never would have let her do it.”
Billy scratched his head. “Seems to me that she’s not a female who’s easily stopped, once she sets her mind to something.”
Luca finally laughed, some of the tension draining out of him. “You’re right about that. And she has a couple of sisters, but one’s run off with a man who probably murdered his wife and no one knows where the other one is. Our Maddy Rose hasn’t corresponded with anyone since she’s been here. It’ll be a while before she’s missed.”
“And what do you intend to do with her? Apart from the usual, that is,” Billy added with only the trace of a smirk.
“Maybe you ought to ask me why I brought her here. I don’t bring women on my ships, at least not my own wom
en. Not if I can help it,” he said, looking out over the inky dark sea as the ship rocked gently on the harbor waters.
“And is she? Your woman, that is? I don’t know if I’ve ever met one before.”
“Don’t be ridiculous—I’ve had so many women I’ve lost count of them,” Luca shot back, annoyed and uneasy.
“You’ve had women, Sonny Jim. They’ve just never been ‘your woman’ before. Not even that piece of work you said you were going to marry. What about her?”
“I sent her a note breaking it off, and by now she’s rejoicing in her reprieve from marrying an uncivilized gypsy.”
“Which brings me back to the question. Why this one? Because of her father? You figure you owe the old man something?”
“I owe him kidnapping his daughter and having my wicked way with her?” Luca drawled. “I don’t think he’d be thanking me for that.”
“Is that why you’re doing it? You wouldn’t have to take her anywhere to get it done—I’ve seen the way she looks at you when she doesn’t think anyone will notice.”
He hated the fact that that pleased him. He knew full well she was attracted to him, no matter how much she didn’t want to be. “I killed two men tonight, Billy.”
Billy didn’t bat an eye at the change of subject. “Did you have a reason, or was it just spur of the moment?”
Luca managed to laugh at that. “It was Dorrit the Cleaner and some man who hired him. Probably not the man with the money, I expect—he wasn’t dressed well enough to afford someone like Dorrit. The man behind all this would have been waiting at home for a report.”
“Dorrit the Cleaner? I’m impressed, boy-o. Many the man’s tried to take him and lost their lives in the trying. Where did you run across that one?”
“Trying to snap her neck,” he said, nodding toward the cabin.
“Hmmph,” Billy said, considering this information. “Dorrit don’t come cheap. Someone must have really wanted her dead. Got any ideas who it might be?”
“She insists it’s Rufus Brown,” Luca said.
Billy hooted with laughter. “Did Dorrit tell her that? That’s a good one.”
Luca frowned. “Yes, but why would Dorrit lie if he was planning to kill her?” he said, repeating Maddy’s argument.
“Who knows how a madman thinks?” Billy dismissed him. “Does she know you’ve figured out who she is?”
Luca leaned over the side of the boat, watching the waves ripple along the surface of the water. “No. She knows I don’t believe her. Who would? I’m waiting for her to tell me her name and she’s still refusing and I’m not going to do a thing until she decides to trust me enough to tell me the truth.”
“That’ll keep you busy during the journey,” Billy observed wryly. “And would you mind telling me just where we’re headed?”
Luca shrugged. “The continent somewhere. The destination is unimportant for now, just getting away from whoever hired Dorrit is what matters. The police will find the bodies and go from there. Even if they know I killed him I’m not likely to be brought up on charges, given Dorrit’s reputation. And if they can identify the body of the second man it might give them an idea who sent them in the first place.”
“All right. What’re you going to do with the girl? You going back in there before we set sail?”
“Not if I can help it. She’s all trussed up for now, but she’s going to be furious when she wakes up, and I think we need to be well out to sea before I take the gag off.”
“Speaking of which, what put her out. Dorrit use chloroform? That’s not his lay.”
“I hit her.”
Billy looked at him in astonishment. “Jayzus,” he said with a whistle. “You really must love her.”
Luca stalked away.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Rufus sat back, considering the situation. Failure had never been an option. Parsons was dead—an inconvenience and nothing more. No, he’d been very helpful with the police when they’d come to inform him that his man’s body had been found in an alley off Water Street. He had no idea what the man had been doing—in fact, he’d dispensed with his services earlier that day for dishonesty. He must have tried something desperate.
No, he’d never mentioned a man named Dorrit. Did he know Captain Morgan—yes, he’d had dinner with him one evening with his dear friend, Miss Haviland, the solicitor’s daughter. He was certain Captain Morgan would be just as horrified at the carnage.
Captain Morgan had been a privateer? He’d had no idea! Well, perhaps horrified was too strong a word. And where was Captain Morgan at the moment? They didn’t know? Ah well, it didn’t matter. He was only curious. No one else was hurt, were they? None of the servants?
Ah, good news that they were all gone from the house. So what did the police suppose the men wanted? To rob the house? No, of course they could only guess.
And certainly he would inform the police if any new information came to his attention. After dismissing Parsons he’d discovered the man’s references had been forged. He wished he could help further, and if there was any way he could be of assistance they mustn’t hesitate to let him know.
Rufus waited until they left, still reclining in his chair with his cane clutched in one thin hand, looking wan and interesting. He had expressed all the right emotions—sorrow, concern, anger—and the slow-witted police of the dockside town had believed everything. He waited until the door closed behind them, sitting very still as he felt the rage sweep through him. That fury was a pure, powerful entity of its own, and it made him strong, stronger than mortal men. He was coming to realize he had a gift, a task to complete, a holy calling if you like, and each setback only made the eventual triumph sweeter.
He pushed out of the chair, and his weak leg faltered for a moment, then he straightened it. Nothing would hold him back, not the temporary frailty of his too-human body, not the stupidity of his hirelings, nor the bunglings of the police. And that a gypsy half-breed would dare to interfere…
Again the rage washed over him, filling him with power. He had no choice then. He would take care of it himself. First he would find out where she was, but he had little doubt she was with that Rom bastard. And he would kill them both if it was the last thing he did.
But it wouldn’t be. He still had the youngest, and he had complete faith in his own invincibility. He was on a mission, and lesser warriors had fallen along the way. He would finally have a chance to finish with the elder one as well—he couldn’t afford to leave anything to chance. And then Rufus Brown could safely disappear, and Rufus Griffiths could re-emerge, full of charm and conviviality. He would prevail, and all would fall before him.
They sailed with the midnight tide. Navigating the crowded harbor of Devonport was no easy task, but Billy could do it blindfolded, and Luca could hear pounding from down below, pounding he expected came from his unwilling guest. “I’ll leave you then,” Luca told his old friend. “It appears someone wants to see me. Come get me if I’m needed.”
Billy chuckled. “The day I can’t handle a ship like this is the day I give up the sea. Go see if you can calm the girl.”
Luca slid down the companionway as he heard the voices overhead, the men calling back and forth to each other as sails were unfurled and the boat rocked on its mooring with the weight of the anchor being pulled. The pounding from his cabin was thunderous, the walls shaking, and he wondered what she was using. He unlocked the door, carefully, in case she’d managed to get free of her bonds, but she was still on the bunk, gagged and trussed, slamming her feet against the wall in impotent fury.
He’d brought a lamp with him, and he turned it up before setting it onto its hook so it could swing freely with the rocking of the ship. She’d stopped kicking moments after she heard him come in, and as he approached the berth she somehow managed to squirm around and launch herself at him in frantic rage. He staggered back for a moment, catching her, and set her squirming, thrashing body back on the mattress. Her eyes were wild, and she tried to sc
ratch him with her bound hands, but he kept out of the way of those fingernails, holding her down against the bed.
It was then he realized it wasn’t anger in her dark blue eyes, it was terror. Her body was shaking with it, and her desperate struggles were born of fear, not justifiable outrage. Maddy, who wasn’t afraid of anything, not hired killers or pirate captains or vicious society women like his erstwhile fiancée. No, she was afraid of bats, but the only bats aboard his ship would be down in the hold along with the rats and whatever cargo Billy had managed to pick up.
He glanced around the ceiling, looking for intruders. “There are no bats here, my sweet,” he said calmly.
She shook her head, so fiercely he worried that she might hurt herself.
“I’m going to regret this,” he said with a sigh, reaching for her gag. “If you start screaming I’ll simply gag you again. So behave yourself.” He slipped the gag free from her mouth, and he could see it took all her formidable strength to keep from shrieking.
“I have to get off this boat,” she managed to choke out after a long, desperate struggle. Her voice was raspy, maybe from muffled screams; he could clearly see the fear coursing through her.
“Ship,” he corrected absently. “And you’re not going anywhere.”
“You don’t understand. I can’t be on a boat… ship. I can’t be on water.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. This ship is as solid as any I’ve ever sailed on. There’s no danger.”
“I can’t,” she repeated breathlessly. “Please. I’ll do anything. Just get me off this thing.”
He looked down at her. “Tell me your name and I’ll consider it.” It was cruel of him, particularly since he was looking at the bruise on her chin. His blow actually hadn’t left that much of a mark—Dorrit’s backhand across her face was a much more telling bruise, as were the places where his fingers had pressed into her neck. Her beautiful, non-twiglike neck, he reminded himself with distant amusement.