Chapter Eleven

Isle of Wight

N ight had cloaked the entrance to the cave by the time Sin and Wright arrived, their lanterns extinguished to avoid detection. They stopped when they heard voices. If Robinson was in the cave, he wasn't alone.

"How long do you think we have before the next high tide?" Sin whispered to Wright. He noticed the floor of the cave was smooth from all the waves that had pounded it over the years. It was still damp, with a few scattered puddles, from the previous high tide, and Sin began to worry about where Robinson was being kept. If the man wasn't on high enough ground, he would be engulfed by water. If he were fevered from injuries, that could make matters much worse. According to intelligence they'd received, Robinson had been captured eight days ago. "I hope we aren't too late."

"We may have a couple of hours before high tide returns. Not much more than that. There's a watermark from high tide earlier today." Wright pointed to the wet line on the cave wall, a foot and a half up.

Sin hoped Robinson was on higher ground. At least he and Wright had time before the water flooded the cave floor once more. They made their way deeper into the cave's tunnel, and the sound of raised voices made them stop and listen.

"Ye think ye're so tough, my lord! We'll see about that."

The voice could only be one of the smugglers.

A groan echoed back to them.

They exchanged a glance. Sin could read the expression on his friend's face, and he felt the same way—he wanted to charge in there and beat the smugglers to a pulp. But they couldn't risk alerting them.

"Dickie, what are ye doin', man?" another voice said. "This poor sod is already half in the grave. If ye want to stay and beat up on the poor bastard, it'll be you that answers to the Man. As fer me, I'm headin' to the Eagle Eye. I ain't gonna waste another night watching the tide roll in here when I could be ridin' Molly's sweet thighs."

"Aye, I reckon ye're right, Joe," the man named Dickie muttered. "Besides, this one ain't goin' nowhere. Maybe I'll set my sights on the barmaid with the red hair."

"Well, what are we waitin' for? I got a thirst for a few tankards of ale and my Molly."

The two men continued to extol the virtues of the curvaceous barmaids as Sin and Wright waited for the sound of their shuffling footsteps to fade away.

"According to the intelligence from Manson, there are several side tunnels that go all the way into the town," Sin whispered. "Let's hope we can get Robinson back to the ship before any smugglers return."

"Well, I'm always up for a good brawl," Wright said with a grin.

"Yes, but I doubt Robinson is," Sin replied.

Further into the cave, they rounded a corner to discover Lizzie's brother trussed up and anchored to an overturned chair, lying in a shallow puddle of water. His blond hair, so much like Lizzie's, was matted with blood, and his shirt and breeches were stained, most likely from blood as well. He groaned. They'd gotten there just in time. Given the overturned chair, it was likely he would have drowned when the tide flowed back in.

"Robinson," Sin said as they righted the chair. "I'm Edward Sinclair, and this is Asher Wright. We're going to get you out of here."

The captain nodded, cracking open bloodshot eyes glazed with fever.

As they sliced through the ropes that bound Robinson's arms and legs, they noticed two dirks sleeved on the inside of his boots.

"Hard to believe the blundering idiots didn't find those fine blades," Wright quipped.

"Was trying to reach for my dirk and toppled over," Robinson said in a half chuckle, half moan.

"Can you tell us where you're injured?" Sin noted the jagged cut marring the side of the younger man's face. The wound was swollen and red, pus oozing from the deep gash.

"Shot in the left leg," Robinson rasped, barely getting the words out. "Knifed right side."

"I have a physician on my ship," Wright said. "He'll tend to your wounds."

"Th-thank you," Robinson said.

"You're welcome," Sin said. "Now, let's get you up and out of here."

He and Wright stood on either side of Robinson, their shoulders bracing the younger man under his arms as they helped him stand.

Robinson clenched his teeth as they began their trek back to the ship.

The moonlight was both a blessing and a curse. It provided enough light to guide them, but also illuminated them for the smugglers. Sin hoped they could get back to the ship without alerting them, or they would have a fight on their hands. If they were forced into battle, Robinson might not survive.

They stayed in the shadows as much as possible. Robinson went in and out of consciousness and occasionally uttered a groan as they made their way to the beach. McDougall, who'd been guarding the dinghy, helped lift the wounded man into the boat.

"We were fortunate. The intelligence from one of your men said you were close to Ryde," Sin said as he and Wright pushed the dinghy into the water and then hopped in.

"Did Vic survive?" Robinson muttered, his swollen eyes regarding Sin.

"I'm sorry to say Vic died from his injuries. You are the only survivor," Sin said.

Robinson muttered a curse and swiped at his eyes. "All brave men… Good families. Vic's last mission." His head dropped.

They fell silent as Sin, Wright, and McDougall swiftly rowed back to the ship. They understood all too well, as they too had lost many friends over the years—good men who'd fought alongside them in battle.

Sin's thoughts turned to Lizzie… Lizzie. How he missed her. After spending time with her since the night of the ball, he could not believe how foolish he was to have left her behind in Boston a year ago, something he regretted every day. When they got back to London, he would do everything he could to convince her of his feelings and to make up for the past. But for now, he needed to get her brother to safety.

He glanced at Robinson, who seemed to have fallen into a feverish doze. I promise to bring him home to you, Lizzie. "Do you have any other wounds?"

"Just a few," Robinson whispered, rousing slightly. "I'm glad to see you. Thank you for coming for me."

"It's hard to believe we are getting away without a shot being fired," Sin said as they pulled up next to the ship.

"Manson's information was helpful. They were more interested in their food and comforts than in the valuable prisoner they had," Wright said.

"I'm almost sorry we won't be there to see the looks on their faces when they realize you're gone." Sin chuckled.

McDougall grabbed the boat winch and secured the dinghy to a rope hanging from the side. Wright picked up the end of another rope that his men had thrown down.

Taking off his coat, Sin wrapped it around Robinson's midsection and secured it to cushion the man's wound. Robinson's eyes flickered open as Wright tied the rope into a slipknot around his waist and hips.

"Can you grab hold of the rope?" Sin asked. "It will take pressure off your wounded side."

"Aye." Robinson nodded. He grunted as he wrapped his hands around the rope.

Wright signaled his men to hoist Robinson up. He managed to hold on to the rope as the sailors worked swiftly to pull him up. In a matter of moments, they eased him safely onto the ship's deck.

Sin blew out a relieved breath.

"McDougall, you go next," Wright said as the sailors threw a roped ladder down.

They held the ladder taut as McDougall scrambled up. Sin glanced over his shoulder, marveling at their luck. The smugglers had referred to their leader as "the Man," but not by name. Whoever he was, he was in for a surprise when he found out his men had allowed a high-level naval officer to escape thanks to their eagerness for bedding barmaids.

"You go next," Wright said.

"Nay, you go," Sin countered.

"I went first last time," Wright said, crossing his arms over his chest.

Sin rolled his eyes, but he respected Wright's code of honor, for it matched his own. He climbed up the ladder and leaped onto the deck, then turned and watched his friend practically fly up the ladder, marveling at his agility. The man was a giant and yet moved with the grace of an acrobat.

Sin remained on deck as they set sail, breathing in the salty sea spray. The wind had begun to kick up, and the waves were lapping against the side of the ship.

"Our friends have returned from the pub early," Sin said as Wright joined him.

"Mayhap the barmaids were already tucked in for the night," Wright said, chuckling as he pulled out a spyglass to observe the smugglers.

They watched the men run back out of the cave, shouting curses, their swinging lanterns casting shafts of light left and right.

"Poor fellows," Sin quipped.

"Well, that was certainly a first. It was almost too easy," Wright said as the brigantine sailed away from the Isle of Wight.

"Yes, but not so easy for Robinson," Sin countered. "I doubt he would have survived much longer."

"Bronson is cleaning and wrapping his wounds. He'll try to get some beef broth into him."

"He needs a healer," Sin said, knowing how crucial it was to have someone dedicated to Robinson's care. If it hadn't been for Lizzie, Sin would have likely died from the yellow jack. Just as their friend Romney owed his life to Bethany, who was knowledgeable about plants and herbs.

"We had planned to take him to my estate, but I think he would be better off sailing to Romney's," Wright said, seeming to echo Sin's thoughts. "Lady Romney has a real talent for herbal medicine."

"You're right. Robinson seems to have only grown weaker since we picked him up. His wounds are festering, and the next few days will be crucial. How far is Romney's estate?"

"Folkestone, Kent," Wright replied. "Just a few hours away. And we would not have to travel far by land after we dock. Whereas my home is farther inland."

"A sound decision," Sin said. "If memory serves, I think Bethany is not due to give birth for a few weeks yet."

"Aye, but knowing Lady Romney, she would no doubt be stubborn enough to care for Robinson even with a babe in her arms," Wright said.

"Aye, Romney is a blessed man to have Bethany," Sin said. "The toughest part is yet to come—keeping him alive." Fortune had been on their side when they rescued Robinson. But they had to make sure they didn't lose him.

"It's settled. We'll send a rider ahead of us as soon as we land," Wright said. "I'll check on Robinson."