Chapter 17
James
James dodged around another barrel, almost knocking it over.
Shouts echoed behind him. He raced along the water’s edge, scanning the dockyard for cover.
If he could reach the crowd, he could lose himself in it.
His clothes were plain, and he doubted the guards had caught a clear glimpse of his face.
He skirted behind a large pile of crates and paused, wiping sweat out of his eyes with his coat sleeve. He listened for footsteps as his chest heaved. A quick glance suggested no one else on the dock was paying him any attention. They had more urgent business than another criminal being chased.
If he could not lose the guards, he might at least be able to distract them long enough for Kate to escape. He had not wanted to leave her behind, but it was the only choice—the only way to keep her safe.
He forced thoughts of Kate alone in the warehouse out of his mind and scanned the dockyard ahead.
A warehouse at the far end bustled with sailors and workers unloading a recently arrived ship, their shouts and grunts mixing with the cries of seagulls circling in the pearl gray sky.
Markham’s words about the lost ship flashed through his mind, but he had no time to dwell on them now.
First he had to lose the guards. Then he had to get Kate out of Dover.
He risked a glimpse around the crates. Two guards were searching the alleys between the warehouses.
After judging the distance, he fled from his hiding place toward the busy warehouse, using cargo for cover whenever he could.
Only twenty paces more and he would be able to vanish into the commotion.
He darted past a stack of spice chests when rough hands seized him from behind.
His coat pulled tight against his throat.
“Well, what do we ’ave ’ere?”
The two guards from earlier emerged from between the warehouses and approached him. He twisted, but his captor remained out of sight. He had been so intent on the other guards that he had walked blindly into a trap. It was a careless mistake and one that could cost Kate her chance to escape.
Both guards were shorter than he was, though one possessed the brawn to hold his own against William in the boxing ring. James assessed the man’s stance and strength. Any other day, James would have relished the challenge, but fighting all three guards at once would likely end in disaster.
“Bring ’im back to the warehouse,” the second guard commanded.
His captor yanked his arms behind him, binding them with coarse rope tight enough to dig into his wrists. They marched him back the way he had come. James scanned his surroundings but could see no immediate escape. He just had to wait for the right moment.
One of the guards opened a heavy wooden door at the rear of the warehouse.
A large hand shoved James forward, and he stumbled.
Unable to catch his balance, he landed hard on his knees.
He gritted his teeth at the pain. He had to stay calm and remain alert.
Every minute he distracted the guards was another minute Kate had to get away.
A heavy tread followed him in before the door slammed shut. A small dirty window allowed in a shaft of faint morning light, just enough for him to see his surroundings. The only furnishings were an old wooden chair and table in the corner, and the air smelled of something damp and moldy.
The guard who had caught James shoved him down into the chair and tied him to it, pulling the rope taut until his skin burned.
When the guard circled around to face him, James realized the other guards had left the room.
They assumed, probably correctly, that this man did not need help restraining a prisoner.
His size alone told James brute force would not serve him here.
The man snarled, spittle landing on James’s cheek. He wished he had the use of his hands to wipe it away. He forced his anger and disgust aside so that he could think clearly.
“Very obliged for your hospitality,” James said with mock politeness. The large man drove a fist into James’s gut. The room blurred as he fought to catch his breath. He forced himself to straighten and face his captor.
“That’s no way to treat a guest, is it?”
The man’s mouth twisted into a sneer. “You gonna tell me how you got into the warehouse, and what you were doing in there?”
“Wasn’t in any warehouse. Perhaps you have me mixed up with some other cove.”
The man raised his fist, and James braced himself for the blow. But before it landed, two knocks sounded at the door behind them. Blast it all. The other guards had returned to help. His chance of escape was narrowing fast.
The guard let out a low grunt and opened the door, hinges creaking. Yet instead of the deep voices of the other guards, a light, feminine voice drifted in. A familiar voice.
Through the narrow crack of the open door, he glimpsed Kate in a dark gown and cloak, smiling shyly at the guard.
What in the devil was Kate doing here? She should be back at the inn by now, far away from him and the warehouse.
“Kate,” he breathed, a silent prayer and a curse. She had ignored her promise. He strained against his ropes. He was helpless to protect her.
The guard shifted, blocking the opening and James’s view. James faced forward again in the chair. He needed a plan. Now.
“Good morning, sir.” Kate’s sweet voice carried across the room. “I am looking for Mrs. Webb?”
“Beggin’ your pardon, Miss. There ain’t no Mrs. Webb hereabout.” The guard sounded . . . cheerful? James almost pitied him. Kate’s beauty and charm could disarm any man.
“Oh, dear. I must have mistaken the address. Perhaps you could assist me? I have the letter here.”
Fabric rustled. Glass crashed. The scent of wine. A reverberating thud. The creak of the door closing. Then came the most terrifying sound of all. Silence.
James craned his neck once more to see the large man sprawled unconscious, shattered glass scattered around him. Where was Kate?
Small steps sounded behind him, and the worst of his panic loosened its hold. He should be furious with Kate. But how could he when she had risked herself to save him? He did not know why she had done it, and the uncertainty struck harder than the guard’s fist.
“You know, when I had you promise to leave me behind, this is not precisely what I had in mind.”
Soft fingers found the knots binding him to the chair, sending a jolt of awareness through him. Her touch brushed his skin time and again as she worked the rope free, and against all reason, he wished the task might take longer.
“I left the warehouse but found that I could not abandon you.” A small sigh. One hard tug, and then he was free. He rubbed the raw places where the rope had bitten, ignoring the sting as he turned to find Kate. Even in her plain gown, windblown hair framing her face, she was breathtaking.
“Why?” His curiosity overwhelmed his anger and the pressing urgency to leave before the guards returned.
He needed to know why she had come back.
A reckless, terrifying suspicion took hold.
If she had done it out of loyalty or gratitude, he could manage that.
But if she had come back for another reason—one that looked dangerously like devotion—he was truly lost.
Facing her, he dared her to look away first. His pulse roared in his ears. His question came in the softest of whispers. “Why, Kate?”
Say it.
James closed the distance between them, the hem of Kate’s dress brushing the tops of his boots.
He inclined his head. Her gaze dropped to his lips.
His blood raced. Her mouth opened but no words came.
He ignored his instincts telling him to glance at the door or the man on the floor.
Nothing in the world mattered right now as much as what Kate would say to him.
Kate took a deep breath and then shrugged.
“In the future, I may need assistance from someone who can pick locks,” she said, a smile on her lips.
“And since you are the only person I know with that peculiar skill, I decided a rescue was in order. I found a crate near the dock with a loose lid and borrowed a bottle of wine to aid me in my attempt.”
Confound it, he laughed despite the danger. The sound felt foreign in the small damp room. What had Kate done to him?
“Come on,” he said, taking her hand. “We need to leave before the other guards return or he wakes up.” James tilted his head in the direction of the man on the floor.
James opened the door far enough that agitated voices carried from somewhere beyond the warehouse. Once the other guards found their companion unconscious, James and Kate would have only a narrow lead before another search began.
They walked into the pale morning light and kept close to the rear wall, weaving through a maze of barrels and wagons. The morning’s work on the docks had begun in earnest, but the workers were too occupied with their own loads to notice two figures slipping past.
Kate did not falter. She moved with a purpose that matched his own. Even when they heard voices around the corner. Even when he pulled her behind a stack of crates and held her there until the way was clear.
By the time they reached the first quiet street beyond the docks, James could no longer ignore the truth. Kate was more than she seemed. She had followed him from the inn, deciphered codes, deceived a guard, and returned for him when she could have escaped.
And that was just today.
He was not the only one with secrets. Kate held cards he had not even known were in play.
They made their way back to the inn as the sun rose in the winter sky and the city stirred. Having Kate beside him after facing danger together felt natural. It was both thrillingly new and strangely familiar.