Chapter 34
34
The sloop cut through the choppy waters of the Thames, spray stinging Constantine’s face as they gained on the merchant ship ahead. His stomach churned, but not from the rough motion. From imagining Augustus and Modesty in George’s hands.
The man who’d manipulated them all, who’d used Ophelia’s death and Constantine’s deepest secret to his own advantage, now held an innocent child and his wife hostage.
“We’re catching up,” Irevrence called from the helm, his lean frame braced against the tiller.
While Octavius stood in the center of the boat, his muscular legs wide apart, Dorian stood at Constantine’s side, his icy blue eyes fixed on the merchant ship. “Thankfully, the Aurora ’s too heavy to maneuver well this close to shore.”
Constantine gripped the gunwale, his knuckles white. While Fortyne had gone to the hearing on Constantine’s behalf, the rest of the dukes had commandeered this sloop from one of Enveigh’s friends.
“There!” Lucien, who stood on his other side, pointed to movement on the merchant ship’s deck. “By the starboard rail.”
Constantine’s blood chilled. George stood at the ship’s rail, Augustus in his arms. Standing by his side, Modesty was clutching her hands. Both of them were looking at the sailboat. Even from this distance, George’s expression set Constantine’s teeth on edge.
“Faster, Sylvester!” Constantine ordered Irevrence, shrugging off his coat. The weight of the garment would only drag him down if he had to swim. “Get us alongside.”
“You’re not thinking of boarding her?” Octavius asked. “In this chop?”
“Watch me.”
Octavius started removing his own coat. The sloop was a smeller vessel, and Irevrence, who was an excellent coxswain, guided their boat into the merchant ship’s wake, using the larger vessel’s bulk to protect them from the worst waves. They were close enough now to hear George’s shouts over the wind.
“Stay back!” George’s voice cracked with desperation.
“Give him to me, George!” screamed Modesty, trying to snatch Augustus from George’s arms.
George shoved her to the side; she staggered and fell on her behind. A snarl rose in Constantine’s throat.
“Faster, Sylvester!” he roared again, never looking away from George.
“Hold on!” cried Irevrence. “Enveigh, ease the port sheet and haul in the starboard! The spinnaker’s spilling wind—we’re losing speed!”
“Understood!” Archibald loosened the port sheet just enough to reduce drag while pulling the starboard line tighter. The sail snapped taut as it caught the full force of the wind.
“Trim it tighter on the starboard,” Sylvester called, his eyes fixed on the sail. “We need every inch of lift!”
Enveigh hauled the line with a steady pull, bracing himself against the deck as the sloop surged forward. The bow dipped and rose with the waves, spray flying as the renewed power drove them faster through the water.
Constantine steadied himself on the deck as the merchant ship loomed closer, its bulk growing larger with each moment.
“Another twenty yards, Constantine! Get ready.”
Several long moments later, the sloop’s bow was aligned with the stern of Aurora . Modesty was standing again, clutching at George’s hands, trying to get at Augustus.
“Let go, Modesty! Pryde, turn the boat, or I swear I’ll drop him!”
Constantine’s heart stopped as George dangled Augustus over the rail. The baby’s cries carried across the water, each wail slicing through Constantine’s chest like a knife.
“No, you won’t!” screamed Modesty, clawing at his arms.
“He’s bluffing,” Lucien murmured, his gaze sharp on the babe.
Constantine moved to the bow, calculating the distance to the ship’s hull. “Closer, Sylvester!”
The gap was closing, but the waves made any jump treacherous.
“At least let me try first,” Enveigh offered. “I’m the better swimmer.”
Constantine shook his head. “He’s my ward. My responsibility. And that is my wife up there.”
His responsibility. Like Ophelia had been. This time, he wouldn’t let pride or fear stop him from protecting his family.
The ships drew closer, their hulls nearly touching. Constantine could see George’s face clearly now—the hatred twisting his once-friendly features.
Constantine eyed the cargo net hanging from the side. It swayed with the movements of the ship, but he saw no other option. He leaped, his fingers latching on to the rough and weathered ropes of the net. It was likely meant for hauling barrels or crates on board—now, it was his lifeline.
The big ship rolled with the waves, the net swaying and pulling taut as Constantine clung to it. His muscles screamed with effort as he began to climb, each movement jarring against the pitch of the ship. The coarse ropes bit into his palms, his hands slipping on the salt-crusted strands, but he gritted his teeth and hauled himself higher.
Behind him, he heard three grunts and felt the net sink. When he looked down, he saw Dorian, Lucien, and Octavius climbing after him. Irevrence and Enveigh must have stayed back to man the sloop.
Finally, he reached the rail and pushed himself over. He landed on his feet, breathing hard. Modesty’s gaze was wide as she stared at him.
He beckoned to her to come to him, to safety, but she shook her head. She didn’t want to leave George’s side. He knew she’d leap into the waters to save the baby. He would, too. So would the other five dukes with him.
George backed away, still clutching Augustus. “Stay back! I’ll do it!”
“No.” Constantine advanced slowly, his hands raised. “You won’t. Because deep down, you are not a man who kills babies. You know Augustus won’t survive the fall—the water is cold and the tide is quick. You’ve helped in the almshouse alongside your sister. You do not have a bad heart.”
Something flickered in George’s eyes—grief or guilt or both. His grip on Augustus loosened slightly.
“I— I—” He looked at Modesty.
Using his distraction, Constantine lunged forward just as George’s foot caught on a coiled rope. They both went down, Augustus slipping from George’s grasp. Modesty caught the baby midfall, rolling to protect him as George scrambled to his feet.
But George had nowhere to go. Dorian and Lucien blocked one escape, Octavius the other. Only the rail remained behind him.
“It’s over,” Constantine said as Modesty ran to him, the baby held tight against her chest.
George looked at each of them, then at the choppy water below. His laugh was hollow. “You’ve taken everything from me. Everything. What’s left but this?”
Before anyone could stop him, he vaulted over the rail. A moment later, there was a loud splash.
The Aurora ’s captain bellowed orders: “Man overboard! Lower the boat! Thomson, Morris—to the longboat!”
As his crew scrambled to action, the captain turned to Constantine. “Your Grace, we must search for him. The current’s swift but he may have surfaced downstream.”
“Of course,” Constantine replied grimly. They couldn’t leave even George to drown, no matter his crimes. “We’ll aid in the search from our vessel.”
The Aurora ’s crew lowered their longboat with practiced efficiency, four sailors taking up the oars.
“Modesty…” he managed.
Her name was mixed with his breath, in his bloodstream, embedded in the very flesh of his heart.The deck shifted under his feet, and it had nothing to do with the waves.
He looked at the baby, who was squirming but calming down now. “Is he all right?”
She kissed Augustus’s forehead. “I think he’s fine.”
“And you?” He looked her over. “Are you hurt?”
She pursed her lips. “I’m fine.”
Her red hair was ablaze in the sunlight, tendrils ruffled in the wind. And the most beautiful green eyes he’d ever seen were almost emerald now.
“Take us home, please,” she murmured.
Home…
His throat constricted, he nodded. She was no doubt shaken, and all he wanted to do was take her and Augustus to warmth and safety. The rope ladder had been tossed over the rail by the sailors. Constantine helped secure the baby to his chest then started picking his way carefully down the swaying ladder, testing each rung. When he reached the sloop’s deck, Enveigh and Irevrence steadied him while Dorian and Lucien stood ready above to help Modesty descend.
She gathered her skirts with remarkable composure and made her way down the swaying ladder as though she’d done it a hundred times before, though Constantine could see her knuckles were white on the ropes. Rath and Luhst followed.
“Set course downstream,” Irevrence called, taking the helm. “We’ll search the south bank while they take the north.”
They looked for George for some time but found no sign of him. If George had survived the fall, he’d already made it to shore. If he hadn’t… Constantine pushed the thought away. He had his family safe. That was what mattered.
“We’re setting course to return,” Irevrence called from the helm.
As they returned to the docks, Modesty sat quietly, protected from the cold by the wool blanket he’d wrapped around her and Augustus. She’d asked him to take them home…was it only to say a final goodbye?
He may have saved her…but that didn’t mean she would ever forgive him.