Chapter Twenty
Josephine screamed. It was all she could do as Lieutenant Caldwell fell to the floor and Mr. Burke stepped over him. “Hello, Miss Montclair.”
She stood frozen in place, staring at the lieutenant’s prone body, searching for any sign of life while the seaman bent and picked up the box that had clattered to the floor.
“Many thanks for doing the hard work in finding this.”
Her jaw clenched as his palm flattened on the lid, fingers drumming a slow, deliberate tap, the sound echoing like a gavel in her chest. Her heart gave a hollow drop, sinking lower with each pat. Samantha had been right about him after all.
Run.
Every muscle in her body thrummed. She needed to get out. To warn someone. She pivoted and sprinted toward the back of the house. Heavy footsteps followed as she turned down a hallway. He closed the distance and she flung herself through the nearest opening in the wall.
There.
An outside door.
She fumbled with the lock and jerked it open as his hand closed over her shoulder.
No. She twisted, the fabric of her blouse tearing in his closed fingers.
It was enough. Her feet flew down the stairs into a small alleyway between buildings.
His curse followed her as she forced her legs to run faster than she ever had before.
When she burst onto the street, she didn’t slow and turned right, feet pounding against uneven cobblestones.
At the next intersection, she dodged a mule and cart while crossing and making another turn.
Each time she turned down a new street, she chanced a quick glance behind her.
But no one followed. Still, she pressed herself forward, garnering startled shouts from passersby as she weaved between crowds.
Finally, with her side burning, she sagged against a brick wall. She could go no farther. And was lost.
Pressing her hand below her ribs, she struggled to catch her breath.
She tipped her head back against the wall, tears welling.
She’d left Lieutenant Caldwell. He could be dead.
But if she had stayed, she would probably be in the same position.
She straightened her shoulders. If she could get to the docks, she could warn his men, get a doctor.
Bending, she eased the dagger from its leather binding at her calf.
She stepped from the shadows and lifted her gaze to the sky, trying to get her bearings. The midday sun did her no favors. With a huff she started down the street, the muscles in her legs screaming their protest. At the next intersection, she did a slow pivot.
There.
The glimmer of water shimmered at the end of the street. She hurried that way.
“Not so fast.” A wagon clattered to a halt and Burke jumped down.
She spun, but his fingers tangled in her hair, the sharp tug yanking her to a stop as pain rippled across her scalp. “Don’t think the boss would be too happy to have you running around raising the alert.”
With a grunt, she drove the dagger back, aiming for his ribs. Somehow, he twisted, the blade grazing his side. He snarled, his free hand catching her wrist before she could strike again. She tried to pull away, but he gave a vicious yank and took the dagger.
He clenched his fist in her hair, jerking her head down, and backed up to the wagon, the searing pain forcing her to follow. “You’ll be coming with me.”
A heavy coldness slid through her, and she dug her heels in. “I won’t go with you.”
He grinned and flipped her dagger in his hand. “Then I’ll have to kill you.”
Nausea rolled through her as he lifted the lieutenant’s blade. “Get in the wagon. And don’t you even think of making a noise. If you scream, I’ll slit your throat and dump you in the ditch.”
He let go of her hair and she stood completely still. Surely someone had seen and would stop him. But no one even looked their way. Business as usual. The knife’s point jabbed into the small of her back, and she jumped.
“I’m going to count to three and if you’re not in there…” He pressed a finger to her throat and dragged it across sideways. “One.”
Josephine’s entire body trembled. Getting in that wagon was as much of a death sentence as the knife at her back. The only difference? Time. But time meant hope.
“Two.”
With a heavy swallow, she climbed up. Moments later, he sat next to her and cracked the reins. The mule jumped forward and Josephine dug her fingers into the wooded seat. She stared at passersby, willing someone, anyone, to meet her frantic gaze.
A mother with two young children stood at the curb, waiting to cross. No luck. An empty hackney with a lanky driver. Again, nothing. She may as well not even be in the wagon.
As they got closer to the waterfront, her desperation built, eyes darting back and forth. A young dockhand walked up the street, hands shoved in his pockets, not paying attention to his surroundings. The mule nearly ran him down, and he jumped out of the way last second.
“Watch yourself!” Burke shouted.
And blessedly, the man looked up, eyes flashing. He started to yell back, then saw Josephine. Finally. She locked eyes with him and wagged them toward her captor, mouthing help. For a second his brows furrowed. Then, a salacious grin spread across his face and he winked at her.
The damn man thought she was flirting.
Just like that, the opportunity passed and he continued on his way.
The wagon clattered down to the docks and her heart clenched as they headed in the opposite direction of The Tempest. They stopped in front of a run-down Chebacco boat.
Two small masts with fore and aft sails rose from the small fishing vessel, the canvas stained and patched.
Josephine frowned. “This is Thorne’s boat?”
“You’ve got some humor. Of course not.” He chuckled as he hopped to the ground. “You gonna get down on your own or would you like me to drag you off?” He gave her a slow perusal, eyes glinting.
With narrowed eyes, she clambered from the wagon. “Don’t touch me.”
With a grin he shoved her forward and they boarded the boat, the heavy stench of fish making her nose scrunch. Two men sat up from where they had been resting, the sun beating down on weathered faces. Another man sat toward the bow, a hulking mass of sinewed muscles.
He stood, towering above the other men. “I presume this means you got what we came for?”
Mr. Burke grinned and held up the box. The giant grunted and strode toward them, hand extended. Once he had it, he held it up in the sun. “Thorne will be pleased.” His gaze dropped to Josephine. “She was not part of the plan.”
The seaman shifted on his feet. “Well, she was there. I would have killed her, but there were too many witnesses by the time I got my hands on her.”
The big man shrugged wide shoulders. “Suppose we can do it once we’re out of the harbor. Fish will take care of her.”
Josephine’s eyes widened and she made a lunge for the gangplank. Burke’s hand closed around her arm. “No. She had this.” He held up the key.
The giant took it, examining it.
“It fits the box. No sense throwin’ away a chance at more information for him.”
With a scowl, the big man shrugged. “Very well. But if he’s not happy, you’ll be the one to blame.”
The other two men threw the lines free and the boat drifted from the dock.
When the sails were unfurled, they caught the afternoon breeze and they cut through the harbor.
Sunlight glinted from the water, making her squint.
The city faded from view, its docks and warehouses shrinking into a hazy line of gray against the sky.
Burke began to hum a shanty as they made their way down the river.
Soon, the broad expanse of the Chesapeake Bay stretched before them.
The chebacco rocked unevenly, its shallow hull bobbing over the choppy waves in the harbor.
Silence had fallen over the men, the slap of water against the hull echoing between them.
Josephine eyed the murky water, then glanced to shore.
Mr. Burke noticed and gave her a toothy grin.
“If yer thinking about jumping in, think again. This bay is full of sharks.”
She gritted her teeth. Not that she could have outswum the boat anyway.
As they made their way from the sheltered waters, the swells increased, the pitching sending Josephine’s stomach into tight knots.
Gulls swooped overhead, dipping and swirling in the wind.
Josephine’s eyes followed their erratic patterns, a lump building in her throat. If only she could sprout wings.
They rounded a point and a ship rose before them.
Her heart seized. A frigate. How had he gotten another one?
A dark figure stood at the ship’s forecastle with a spyglass tracing on them, and the hairs on Josephine’s neck lifted.
Tears bit at her eyes as the hopelessness of her situation fully hit her.
One of her captors stood and waved a black flag in the wind, and the men turned the chebacco into the waves, cutting out toward the larger ship.
Salt spray stung Josephine’s cheeks as the massive ship loomed ever larger with each swell they rode.
Finally, they bumped against the frigate’s hull, the thud of wood against wood reverberating through her bones.
A moment later, a rope ladder tumbled over the side, worn and fraying at the ends.
Burke gestured her forward. “Ladies first.” Her boots slipped on the weathered oak planks, and she didn’t have time to recover before rough hands yanked her forward. When she stood still, he nodded to the ladder with a raised brow.