Chapter 28

Twenty-Eight

"When you said you thought you had a plan, it never entered my mind you were going to toss me overboard" were the first words that came sputtering out of Camilla's mouth after Owen hauled her to the surface and flipped her onto her back, keeping his arm around her as the current swept them swiftly away from the paddleboat and down a river that was swollen from recent rains.

"What plan entered your mind?" he couldn't help but ask.

"I thought you might have been about to ask me if I had my derringer readily available, and then I'd use my derringer to back you up after you whipped out your Colt Dragoons."

"I didn't have my Colt Dragoons on me."

"Why not?"

"Well, not that this is exactly the moment for this, but I was considering wearing my holster with Colt Dragoons in it until Leopold pointed out that the bulkiness would ruin the lines of my evening attire. That's why I left them in the carriage because who would have thought a paddle steamer would get ambushed?"

"So we're currently being swept down a river because you've decided to embrace a more fashionable approach regarding evening attire?"

"That about sums it up." He pulled her closer to him when she started sinking underneath the water. "Did you actually bring your derringer with you?"

"I tried, but after Bernadette realized I'd stuffed it into my corset since I know better than to attach it to my leg, she made me hand it over. She and Lottie then went about discussing how fortunate I was to have them in my life since I could've very well ended up, er, charm-less if not for their intervention."

He felt his lips twitch, but before he could do anything other than realize it was a very peculiar time to be amused, they reached a bend in the river, the current substantially increasing.

With Owen keeping a firm hold on Camilla, the weight of her gown continuing to drag her under the water, they bobbed their way through rapids that left both of them gasping for breath before they hurtled into calmer waters, where he began swimming for shore.

His breathing became more labored than ever as he fought their way through the current, but finally, and after what seemed like hours instead of just minutes, his feet touched the muddy bottom of the river. Taking a moment to find his balance, he lifted Camilla into his arms and staggered through the increasingly shallow water, making it to dry land a moment later.

After setting Camilla down in the high grass that covered the bank, Owen bent over and took a second to catch his breath, returning his attention to Camilla when she let out a bit of a grunt as she pulled a strand of what seemed to be weeds out of her hair right before she sent him a grin.

"Care to share what's amusing you?" he asked.

"I was just thinking about how, in my almost twenty-six years on this earth, I'd never been in a river before, but after having met you, it seems to be quite a frequent occurrence."

"You don't sound overly upset about that."

"Considering both times I've ended up in a river has allowed me to escape from would-be abductors, I'm not upset in the least, although..." She sat up. "I have to wonder how those men found me, and if Victor Malvado is the criminal mastermind who seems determined to snatch me. Clearly, with me being the obvious target tonight, Lottie was probably never in danger."

"From what Lottie has said about Victor, he seems to be an incredibly powerful crime boss who has far-reaching connections. If he is behind this, and maybe he is because he would glean a hefty ransom for your safe return, he's evidently either sent men down here or has found some criminal connection in West Virginia that he used to plan this attack."

"But how could anyone have known where to find me?"

"I'm not sure, although I suppose it wouldn't be a stretch to think that someone from Wheeling traveled to New York and mentioned something about you, because you know people like to mention names of well-known people in order to increase their standing within whatever group they're mingling with. Maybe Victor, or another criminal boss, heard about the conversation."

"It could also be that Lord Shrewsbury might have heard a conversation like that, especially when we know he's back in the city, attending events with Ward McAllister," Camilla said.

"I suppose however someone found out doesn't really matter right now, but what does matter is that we need to get you back to New York posthaste."

"But that's where Lord Shrewsbury is, as well as Victor Malvado."

"True, but it's also where the Accounting Firm is, and I have to believe they have the resources needed to truly keep you safe, unlike me."

"You just saved me from another abduction attempt."

Owen inclined his head. "I did, but you must know they'll try again since they've gone to the bother of tracking you here. Even with the number of men we have watching over you, I'm not sure that'll be enough to keep you safe."

Holding out his hand, Owen helped Camilla to her feet before he took a moment to survey their surroundings, nodding to his right a moment later. "I have a friend, Amos Rook, who has a house not far from here. He'll be happy to give us a ride back to the island."

Entwining his fingers with Camilla's, Owen headed along the riverbank, stopping when Camilla stumbled over the drenched hem of her gown. He eyed her for just a second before he moved closer and hauled her up and into his arms.

Her arms immediately looped around his neck, causing a wave of heat to shoot through him even though he was sopping wet and the wind that was blowing over them held a touch of a chill.

"This really isn't necessary," she muttered as he began striding through the tall grass of a clearing.

"It is when I don't want you to break a limb by tripping over your skirt."

Her arms went a little slack.

He stopped walking and looked down at her face. "What?"

"Nothing."

"That didn't sound like a nothing kind of response. What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking we should have devoted more time to choosing better responses when engaging in conversations."

"Huh," he said, taking a second to consider the matter before he frowned. "This isn't one of those hero moments, is it? One where I've made a blunder again like I did with Pauline?"

"You already had a hero moment when you tossed me overboard."

The warmth flowing through him intensified. "I see," he said before he caught her eye. "I don't see, though, how I could have chosen a better response to you suggesting that carrying you wasn't necessary because I truly don't want you to break a limb."

She blew out a bit of a sigh. "I'm sure you don't want me to break a limb, but that was an opening you could have used as a, well, attempt to try your hand at being somewhat of a Casanova type."

"You were expecting a Casanovian moment from me?"

"I'm not sure I was expecting that, but I wouldn't have been, ah, opposed to it."

He pulled her a little closer. "Perhaps I should try again."

"I think the moment has passed."

His lips twitched, because she was beginning to sound a little grumpy. "What about if I tell you that carrying you is necessary because it gives me a reason to hold you in my arms?"

Her arms tightened around his neck again. "That's definitely an improvement."

"Then what about if I also add that holding you so close gives me a perfect opportunity to set aside all that wondering I've been doing and learn for myself what would have happened had we not been interrupted the day of the family reunion?"

She drew in a sharp breath but didn't say a single thing to that because . . . her gaze was now settled on his mouth.

Not wanting to spend another second wondering what kissing Camilla would be like, Owen lowered his head until he was only an inch away from her lips, freezing on the spot when he heard a rifle being cocked behind him.

"This here be private property," a man said. "State your business a'fore I decide to shoot."

"This is some seriously bad timing," he grumbled before he lifted his head. "There's no need to shoot, Amos. It's me, Owen."

"What in tarnation are you doin' out here this time of night?" Amos demanded.

Setting Camilla on her feet, Owen turned. "Miss Pierpont and I have run into some trouble, Amos. I was just heading up to your house to see if you could help us."

"You know you don't even need to be askin' that," Amos said, taking a second to look Owen over before he shook his head. "Seems like the first order of business is to git you two into some dry clothes, and then we'll see iffen we can sort out whatever trouble done rained down on you."

Fifteen minutes later, and after he'd explained the basics to Amos and his wife, Cora Beth, Owen was, thankfully, wearing dry clothes, although they were remarkably snug, while Camilla was wearing one of Cora Beth's housedresses that all but swallowed her up.

After Amos called through the front door that he'd gotten Roscoe hitched up to his wagon, Owen took Camilla's arm, and after thanking Cora Beth for the clothes, they walked out of the cabin, joining Amos a moment later.

"I sure appreciate this," Owen said, earning a nod from Amos in return.

"Ain't no problem," Amos said. "You'd do the same for me, but you sure it's wise to have me drive you to the house instead of straight to the police?"

Owen helped Camilla up into the wagon bed. "I'm not sure the police are equipped to deal with the kind of men who are after Camilla, men I would bet are even now scouring the banks of the river for us. I think our safest option is to make a quick stop at my house, grab some necessities, then head out before anyone realizes we were ever there."

"Where you plannin' on headin'?" Amos asked.

"It would probably be best if you don't know in case anyone comes nosing around."

"Sure 'nough you might be right about that" was all Amos said as Owen climbed into the wagon to join Camilla, then covered them with a blanket as Amos got settled on the seat, clicked his tongue, and the wagon lurched into motion.

Owen waited until they reached a gravel road instead of the bumpy dirt drive they'd been on before he turned his head, catching just a hint of Camilla's face under the blanket. "Think now would be an appropriate time to get back to what we were doing before Amos almost shot us?"

Warmth once again flooded over him when Camilla laughed.

"Not to disappoint you, but I don't believe now, while we're hiding out in the back of a wagon, under a blanket that smells like onions, is probably the best time to resume that type of business."

"I suppose the onion smell does put a damper on things."

"As does the idea we're not out of danger yet." She inched a little closer, surprising him when she took hold of his hand. "What's your plan?"

"The only plan I have is to grab a few essentials before we head for the train station."

"You don't want to wait and see if Leopold, Charles, or any of the men who've been guarding me show up?"

"Unless they're already there, no. We don't have the luxury of that kind of time."

"What about Bernadette and Mr. Timken?"

"I don't think they'd be much use to us as guards, what with how Mr. Timken is pushing seventy at least, and Bernadette doesn't strike me as a lady I should hand a gun to since she's a little overly dramatic at the best of times."

"I wasn't thinking they'd be useful as guards but as chaperones."

Owen frowned. "Forgive me, Camilla. I didn't even consider needing a chaperone, but I don't think it's a good idea to bring them with us because we'll be less conspicuous if it's only the two of us."

"Which makes sense. However, you must realize that if anyone spots us traveling alone together, that will mean we'll have to make our feigned engagement official."

His lips began curving on their own accord because it would not bother him in the least if they had no choice but to make that official, especially not after they'd almost shared a kiss again, and ... she'd seemed completely receptive to the idea of sharing that kiss.

Frankly, he'd been losing sleep ever since Lottie and Edward had interrupted them because Camilla hadn't, up until tonight, given him any indication she wanted him to try kissing her again.

Considering she was a matchmaker—and there was no point thinking of her as a retired matchmaker since she'd certainly returned to her matchmaking endeavors with quite a bit of gusto—Owen knew full well that Camilla knew how to go about this business called romance, and . . .

"Should I take your silence to mean you're currently thinking about how we should revise our plan so we aren't forced to travel alone together?" she asked, pulling him straight out of his thoughts.

Given the slight trace of disgruntlement in her tone, it was clear he'd been allowing his thoughts to wander in the midst of what could be a life-changing conversation—and his life, at that.

"Forgive me yet again, Camilla. I fear I was lost in thought."

"I knew you didn't read that chapter in the last etiquette book that covered how important it was to always keep your thoughts, as well as attention, centered on the person you are engaged in conversation with."

"I read that chapter, but you have to admit, we've been dealing with some extenuating circumstances over the past hour. I'm afraid all that decorum knowledge has gotten shuffled about in my mind."

"I suppose that's a legitimate excuse."

"Indeed, but know that I wasn't considering a way for us not to travel alone together. I was simply thinking that, if we were to be seen, I wouldn't be—"

"We're almost to your house," Amos said, interrupting Owen mid-sentence as he leaned over the wagon seat and lifted the blanket to peer down at them. "I'm just letting Roscoe amble along a bit to make sure the coast is clear." He dropped the blanket back into place as Camilla released a sigh.

"Why is it that when we're getting right down to the good stuff, we're always interrupted?" she whispered.

"Does that mean, when I was carrying you earlier, that you considered that getting down to some good stuff?"

"Perhaps," she admitted as the wagon pulled to a stop and Amos lifted the blanket from them.

"Doesn't seem to be anyone around," Amos said quietly.

After climbing from the wagon, Owen helped Camilla do the same, sent Amos a nod of thanks after he got back on the seat and set the wagon into motion, then took Camilla's arm and led her toward the front steps, the blood in his veins turning to ice when the sound of pounding boots erupted behind them.

"Run!" he yelled to Camilla before he turned and found himself confronted by at least five men.

Planting his fist into the closest man's face, he didn't linger to watch the man crumple to the ground, but cracked his fist into another man's jaw, Owen's head rearing back when a third man managed to land a punch before he grabbed hold of the man's shirt and tossed him aside.

A yell from Camilla had him spinning around and bolting toward the house, rage immediately coursing through him when he saw that a man had her slung over his shoulder and was running down the steps, obviously intent on getting her to the carriage that was now racing down Zane Street.

Owen lowered his head and charged for the man, his progress coming to a rapid end when he felt a sharp pain explode in the back of his head. Everything immediately began turning black as he plummeted to the ground, the shadowy sight of Camilla being hauled away the last thing he saw before darkness claimed him.