Chapter Twenty-Two

B roderick combed most of Brighton, even going into every shop just to inquire about Lady Sarah's whereabouts. For those few who knew her or had seen her with Lady Langston, they couldn't tell him where Emiline was, and they certainly couldn't remember when they had seen her last. As the day passed, his hopes of finding her sank lower, and he feared he would never find her. Thankfully, Uncle Henry helped him search. If Broderick had had to do this all by himself, it would have taken much longer.

As the sun began its descent, Broderick knew he wouldn't give up until she was found. He had asked Elias over and over again what exactly Mercer and the other man had told him, hoping there would be a clue as to where they had taken Emiline, but they had left no clue.

Feeling frustrated, Broderick wanted to scream and find a random person in town just to shake them until he got some answers. But he feared that wouldn't work. Mercer must know of Broderick's love for Emiline, which was why the lieutenant played this game of cat and mouse. Broderick didn't like this game. He wanted to be one step ahead of Mercer, as he'd always been. Unfortunately, the naval officer had now bested him.

Humiliation was a hard emotion to swallow.

From down the street, a familiar face caught his attention. Without making a scene, Broderick hurried toward his friend. When Phillip noticed him, his eyes widened first, then seconds later, his forehead creased in worry.

"I'm so relieved I found you," Broderick said breathlessly.

"Good heavens, captain. What is wrong? You don't look like yourself. Your face is white."

Broderick nodded. "I'm not myself at all. Emiline has been taken by Mercer."

A loud gasp exploded out of Phillip's mouth. "No. Tell me you are jesting."

"I'm not. I have been searching for her for hours, and I cannot find her."

"What can I do to help?"

"I don't know. My uncle and I have been all over town." Broderick shook his head. "But I know that when I finally locate her, Mercer will be waiting to capture me." He took a deep breath. "Can you locate as many crew members as possible? We must formulate a plan for my escape."

"I can. But as I told you last night, only a handful are here."

"Gather them and meet me at the tavern at midnight."

"Aye, captain. I will try to find them." Phillip turned and hurried back up the street.

An ounce of relief was taken off Broderick's shoulders, but no more. There were still so many things that had to be done. Growling, he raked his fingers through his hair. This madness had to stop immediately, or he would not be able to think straight.

The air had turned slightly cooler, so Broderick bundled his overcoat tighter around his neck. Standing in front of a shop, he closed his eyes and mentally tried to focus on what his next course of action would be.

From across the street, a lad scurried across the road before a carriage whisked by. Just as the boy reached Broderick, he lifted his eyes. His shocked gaze clashed with Broderick's immediately, and the lad gasped. Quick as lightning, the boy broke into a run.

It took only a second for Broderick to register the identity of the boy. What was the kid doing in Brighton, instead of back at Henry's house taking care of the stable?

Broderick chased after Levi, determined not to let Henry's servant get away. But the boy was fast, and it took all of Broderick's willpower to keep on him. It wasn't until Levi tripped and fell that Broderick was able to catch up.

Levi sprang to his feet and was off again, but this time Broderick was close enough to grab the boy's jacket. The sleeve tore, but at least it helped Broderick in capturing the lad.

He tightened his fingers around Levi's arms, imprisoning him as he glared into the kid's frightened eyes. "I demand to know what you are doing in Brighton—and why you chose to run from me when you realized my identity."

"Let me go!"

"I shall when I receive some answers."

"I'll scream!"

"Then scream. I'm certain the constable will side with me." He gave Levi a hard shake. "Now start talking."

"No. You can't make me." Levi struggled, but to no avail.

Broderick arched an eyebrow. "I may not be able to make you, but I'm quite certain my uncle can. Do you want to keep your employment with Mr. Crampton? If so, you had better start talking."

Levi scowled, and his mouth tightened.

"Why are you in Brighton?" Broderick raised his voice, turning it more threatening. After a few moments of silence, he gave the boy another bone-rattling shake. "Tell me now, or so help me, you'll wish you were never born."

"I'm here to keep an eye on you. I'm being paid well."

That was definitely not the answer Broderick thought he'd get. He met the boy's glare with one of his own. "Who is paying you to watch me?"

"The man who came looking for Lady Sarah that one day you were gone."

"Lieutenant Mercer?"

Levi shook his head. "I don't know his name."

"You told me the man had orange hair. Is this the same man paying you?"

"No. The man paying me has black hair."

Shock vibrated through Broderick, but he kept his tight hold on the boy. Then again, Lieutenant Mercer was too cowardly to play this game of cat-and-mouse with the fearsome Captain Hawk alone.

"How did you know we were in Brighton? None of the servants—save for the ones who traveled with us—knew where we were going."

"I overheard Miss Crampton telling one of the maids."

Broderick gnashed his teeth. Leave it to his blabbermouth cousin to put a kink in things. "So, tell me why the man with black hair wants you to follow me?"

Levi's eyes turned a darker color, coated with malice. "You are Captain Hawk. I don't want a murderer in Mr. Crampton's house—family or not. You should be hanged for your crimes."

Broderick nodded. "I commend you for being so devoted to your employer, but the man paying you is wrong. If I kill people it's because I'm trying to protect myself from their attack. Perhaps you should have talked to Mr. Crampton about my loyalty before condemning an innocent man and feeding him to the wolves."

Within seconds, the anger fled from the boy's face, replaced with a white color. "But he assured me—"

"And he was wrong." Broderick released Levi. "I promise not to say anything to Mr. Crampton about this if you hurry back home as soon as possible—tonight, even."

"I-I-I promise, sir. Please forgive me. I was only trying to do my civic duty—"

"I understand, Levi. I'm quite certain you will hear things about people's characters quite a bit in this day and age, but unless you seek out the truth before you lay judgment, you are no better than the traitors themselves. Please remember this in case it happens again."

"That I will, sir. Thank you for understanding."

"Now be off with you before Mr. Crampton sees you."

Nodding, the boy turned and fled as fast as he could. Broderick prayed Levi would take his advice and leave posthaste. There were already enough problems happening at this moment. He didn't need a snot-nosed heathen around to cause more.

*

Emmie's body ached terribly. They hadn't moved her from this tied-up position on the rickety chair. And to make matters worse, she had to use the privy. Although she seriously doubted they had one on this ship. Still, if she waited any longer, well… She didn't want to think of the consequences.

Lieutenant Mercer and Rebecca had moved away from her. Emmie assumed they were sitting at a table, because earlier she'd heard other chairs scraping the floor as if someone was moving them out to sit. And she'd heard their whispers. Unfortunately, this time she didn't know what they were saying. Emmie suspected if they knew she was still awake, they would be more secretive.

As she opened her mouth to get their attention, the bang of a chair being knocked over echoed in the room.

"Miss Crampton, I grow tired of your constant complaining. You shall receive the money once Mr. Worthington arrives, and not a moment sooner."

"But you promised me—" Rebecca whined.

"I said, enough !"

A hard slap resounded through the air mere seconds before Rebecca wailed. Emmie shook her head, having known something like that would happen to Broderick's cousin at least once. Mercer was correct—Rebecca complained a lot. Emmie was the prisoner here, yet she hadn't complained once.

Although now was a good time, because she really needed to use the chamber pot.

"Pardon me, but I need some help over here." Emiline still couldn't believe that her captors would forget about her. Apparently, they didn't know how to handle women prisoners. "I know you are there, even though I'm blindfolded. I can hear you, and I can smell your foul scent."

Footsteps pounded on the floor, coming her way. She cringed, wondering if Mercer would hit her, too.

"What do you want?" he demanded.

"I need… Um, well, I have womanly necessities I have to take care of."

"What in the blazes are you talking about, woman?"

Inwardly, Emmie groaned. He was really simple-minded. "I need to use the chamber pot, you jackanapes."

She held herself still, readying for his hard hand across her face. Instead, he started chuckling.

"You definitely are the spitfire we heard you to be. I suppose I will allow you this necessity, but you will remain tied and blindfolded."

She nodded, not really wanting to upset him, but if he was too stupid to figure it out, she must spell it out for him. "But how can I attend to my problem if I cannot move my hands or legs—or see?"

"You make a good point, so I will untie your feet only. Someone else can assist you."

A gasp sprang from across the room. "You want me to act as her maid ? I refuse! I will not help Lady Sarah do that !"

Emmie groaned silently. Had Rebecca not learned her lesson yet?

Mercer marched across the floor away from Emmie, and then came Rebecca's shriek. "Stand up and go help our prisoner, or you will not see a shilling of the money I promised you."

Rebecca's soft sobs grew closer to Emmie, followed by Lieutenant Mercer's heavy footsteps. Her legs jumped as he untied the ropes securing them to the chair. Feeling rushed to her feet, making them tingle, then burn. She wouldn't complain. At least she could feel them now.

"The chamber pot is in that corner," the lieutenant growled. "Go get it."

Rebecca's sobs turned louder as she did as the man instructed. For a moment, Emmie almost felt sorry for her.

"Where shall I take her?" Rebecca asked in a compliant tone.

"Behind that stack of crates will work just fine."

A strong hand grasped Emmie's arm and yanked her up. She almost couldn't stand, and so stumbled when they started walking. She feared she would fall into some object and not be able to brace herself with her hands tied behind her. But thankfully, she made it to their destination without any problems.

"I shall allow you only five minutes to take care of things, then I'll be back."

"Thank you, sir," Emmie answered. "You are most gracious to allow me such luxury." She ground her teeth through the outright lie.

Chuckling, Lieutenant Mercer moved away from her and Rebecca, and then the door closed. Emmie breathed a relieved sigh.

"I know this menial task is not something you usually do," she told Rebecca, "so if you will untie my hands, I'll see to my womanly needs by myself."

"As much as I would like to comply, I fear it would take me five minutes just to untie you. So, I must help you as much, as I hate doing so."

"I thank you," Emmie whispered.

Within minutes, Emmie felt much better. After she was finished, and she stood, Rebecca helped put her clothes back together.

"I know who you are, Miss Crampton."

The other woman gasped as her hands stilled. "How do you know?"

"Although we have not talked much, I still know your voice. And I feel I must let you know, you are in danger if you stay here."

"You know nothing," Rebecca snapped.

"Yes, I do. I know the lieutenant isn't going to release you, even if he gives you the money. Greedy, controlling men like that are not nice, and they never follow through with bargains they make. You need to escape, Rebecca. Get away from him and tell your father what you have done so he can protect you."

"Quit trying to frighten me." Rebecca shoved her.

Emmie stumbled, praying she wouldn't step into the chamber pot. Thankfully, she didn't. "Miss Crampton, I'm not trying to frighten you. I'm telling you the truth."

"What do you know, anyway? Nothing! You are a pampered daughter of an earl and have no idea about things like this."

Emmie now wanted to slap the woman herself. No, she'd let Lieutenant Mercer do it—little good it would do, anyway. Rebecca was hardheaded and wouldn't believe anyone. "Fine. But if we both live through this, I expect to hear an apology from you when you realize I'm right." If Lieutenant Mercer didn't kill them both first.

"Just hush up and let me take you back to your chair."

Rebecca tugged on Emmie's arm. She followed, trying to keep up with Rebecca's quick steps as they moved back to the chair. When Broderick's cousin pushed Emmie, she feared she would fall once again, but thankfully, the chair stopped her, and she was able to sit. Seconds later, Rebecca's fingers gripped Emmie's shoulders painfully.

"This is a warning, Lady Sarah— if you do happen to live through this, you had better not tell my father that I was the one who turned Broderick in. Know this now: I will deny it until I'm old and gray. And my father will believe me over you, anyway."

She was unbelievable. Rebecca was acting more like a pampered, spoiled child than a grown woman.

"If your father will believe you over me, then why threaten me at all?"

Rebecca growled and slapped Emmie across the face. Her cheek stung for a moment. She wouldn't give Rebecca a reply. It wasn't worth the breath, anyway.

Lieutenant Mercer returned and tied her feet back to the chair. Tears stung her eyes, and she prayed that God would send someone to rescue her. Anyone but Broderick. If he came, he'd be killed, and she couldn't live knowing he'd risked his life for her.

*

Broderick blew out a breath. Time was wasting away, and he was frustrated beyond belief. Perhaps he needed to be the one to find his crew. He alone couldn't capture Mercer, especially since the man obviously had others helping him.

Not far from him was another inn. Broderick hurried toward that establishment. As he walked inside the building, his foot caught on the rug, and he stumbled into a man. Righting himself, he opened his mouth to apologize as he looked into the other man's eyes.

"Pardon my clumsiness, sir—" Recognition hit as excitement shot through Broderick. "Benjamin Spencer, you are just the man I came looking to find." He grasped the man's shoulders. "You don't know how happy I am to see you." It was then he noticed a traveling satchel in Ben's hand, as if he were leaving.

"Mr. Worthington. What a pleasure it is, indeed. I was just on my way out, but we could sit at the table and order drinks if you would like."

"There is no time." Broderick lowered his voice. "I need you and the others. Mercer is in town and has kidnapped someone I hold dear."

Ben frowned. "Are you certain?"

"Yes."

"But then why did you order us to leave Brighton?"

Broderick blinked. "I did?"

"Aye, captain. Yesterday, George and I were told that you no longer needed our presence here, and to meet you back at the ship in a fortnight because we'd be sailing again."

"You received this information yesterday? What time were you told this?"

"In the evening."

Something wasn't right. A painful throb began in the base of Broderick's skull as he collected his thoughts. There was only one man who would give such instructions. And because they were deliberately false and meant to lead Broderick astray, this only meant one thing.

With a sinking, saddened heart, he realized he had finally found the traitor amongst his crew.