Chapter Thirty-Six

L ucy wiggled against the ropes that tied her wrists behind her back. Blast! Where the hell was she? It was too dark for her to see past her nose. She sat in a ladderback chair, her arms bound around the smooth wooden back. Underneath her, the floor swayed and bobbed gently. She must be on a boat. Panic bubbled up into her chest.

She called out, “Help! Someone help me!” She screamed at full volume despite her parched throat and aching head.

“Jesus, woman. Stop caterwauling!” Heavy footsteps clomped down from above, and with them, a lantern illuminated the space.

Lucy’s blinked as her eyes adjusted. The room she was in came into focus. She was indeed belowdecks of a boat. Not a large space but furnished. The chair she was tied to had a counterpart on the other side of a polished wood table. Beyond that was a long bench along one wall fitted with cushions for seating. And the ladder where the man had come down was wide with a railing attached for balance. He raised the lantern. Lord Perrin.

“What would you expect me to do after being kidnapped?” she snapped.

“Be quiet like a good girl. Your husband will come for you. The note has been delivered.” He moved through the hold, a small leather bag in one hand.

“Lord Perrin, please let me out of these bindings,” Lucy inserted a hitch in her voice. “They are cutting into my wrists terribly.”

“Yes, yes, in a minute.” He waved a hand distractedly as he turned in a circle, assessing the room. She watched as he walked over to a small barrel and squatted to pull it across the floor. After setting it next to a thick wood pole in the center of the room, he opened his bag and pulled from it a length of rope. No, it was far too thin to be a rope. He snaked it under the lid of the barrel and then unwound it so that it lay along the edge of the room all the way to the bottom of the stairs. Oh Lord, it was a length of fuse.

Lucy began to struggle again, panic roiling in her stomach. “Get me out of here!” She yelled at him.

Lord Perrin did not appear phased by her screaming.

He turned and put a finger to his lips. “Shush. This is not for you. My father will be down shortly to collect you. It’s almost time.” Then he along with his light climbed the short ladder, disappearing into the dark night above.

Lucy stilled and sucked in several deep breaths. He said a note had been delivered. A ransom note? What was she to be ransomed for? Regardless, she wasn’t going to sit here like a good girl while Hart risked himself with these bastards. Instead of fighting her bindings, she used her fingers to explore the knot between her wrists. If she stretched her fingertips just a little further left… yes, there it was, the end of the tie.

Lucy pushed her shoulder blades back as far as they could go to gain the extra half-inch of leverage. She pulled the frayed rope edge, and it slid free of the knot, which honestly wasn’t much of a knot. Two more tugs and the bindings were slipping to the ground. Nobody would win a prize for tying those knots today, but Lucy couldn’t be more relieved that Griffen and his son were poor sailors.

She lifted her skirts with one hand and gripped the railing with the other and ascended slowly. Climbing just far enough to peek her head out the hatch. The cool night air hit her face as she looked up at the sky, clearing her head. Two low but angry male voices came from her right.

“Father, you do realize that you cannot just hand her over. Hartwick will go straight to the magistrate. You are the insane one if you think he won’t want retribution. Once we have the journal, I will take care of them both.”

Lucy sucked in a sharp breath, immediately regretting it when she heard footsteps coming her way. A large hand grasped her arm and hauled her up the last couple of steps. “Why is it you won’t follow directions, Your Grace? Although I will give you credit for your gumption.”

She glared at him. “If you think I won’t fight you every moment until you release me, you are sadly mistaken.” She thrust the heel of her hand up at his chin.

But Perrin was quick, and he grabbed her wrist before she could make contact. Gripping it painfully, his pale eyes bored into her. There was unholy glee in them that made a shiver of fear run down her spine.

He shook her like a rag doll. “Perhaps I will play with you first. I do like it when they fight.”

“Gabriel. Control yourself. Remember that control is the key.” Lord Griffen’s voice calm and authoritative, rumbled. “Bring her to me.”

Perrin dragged her down the deck to his father. Letting go of her wrist, he shoved her toward the older gentleman before stalking off into the shadows at the other end of the ship.

“I’m sorry about that, Lady Hartwick. I will ask that you cooperate. We will be heading to meet with your husband in less than an hour. Have a seat, and all will be well.”

Liar. Lucy didn’t say it out loud. Lord Griffen didn’t seem to want to harm her. She could use that to her advantage. She glanced around to try and gain some indication of where they were. There were boats berthed on each side of them. Sleek schooners, definitely pleasure sailing ships. She walked over to the railing where a built-in bench could seat two passengers. Beyond the dark, quiet dock, she could see lights through the trees and the faint strains of music. “Where are we?”

“Vauxhall. Just around the bend are the stairs. We will go meet your husband inside, and once he gives me the journal, you can go home.”

Lucy swung around to confront him. “Do you think we will just let it go that you kidnapped me? That my husband will not demand satisfaction?”

He sighed. “I hope it won’t come to that. We shall see how reasonable your husband can be.”

Lucy laughed outright at that. This man was delusional. “What makes you think he wants anything but revenge for you murdering his father?”

Lord Griffen took a menacing step forward. “That was a matter of honor,” he scoffed.

“Then why cover it up by making it look like a robbery gone wrong?” Her anger pushed her to her feet. “And what about Robert? Why was he shot? Is it a matter of honor to shoot the second?”

“You don’t understand. What would a woman know about matters of honor?” He grabbed her arm and shook her.

“I understand that it would make you kill your friend.” Lucy stomped down onto his foot. Then she punched as hard as she could into his stomach.

But despite his yowl of pain, it did not make him release his grip on her like she hoped. Instead, he raised his hand. “You bitch.” He struck her hard on the side of her head, making her see stars.

“Lucy!” Hart’s shout echoed through the night.

He was here. Relief flowed through her. Her cheek throbbed where Griffen had struck her. But for once, she knew she didn’t have to fight back. Hart would take care of Griffen and his horrible son. He wouldn’t let any more harm come to her. She let her body go lax and slid gracefully to the deck.