Renfield nodded to Sorrington. “Tie them up.”
Emma watched Sorrington retrieve the rope from her shoulder. “Why are you helping him?”
His dove gray eyes flickered over her as he removed a knife from his belt. “I will be well compensated for my trouble,” he said, sawing the rope in half, the diamond from his ring glistening in the morning light. Then he tied Sean’s wrists behind his back. When he came to her, Emma lifted her chin. “What will you get? Half the gold?”
Sorrington shook his head, wrapping the rope around her wrists. At least he kept them in front, where she watched the knot he fashioned. She had to keep him talking, to stall for time. Perhaps, Lucian would find them. “I would like to know, who wrote that note?”
Sorrington and Renfield exchanged confused glances. “What note?” Sorrington asked.
“The note you had delivered to my bedroom. The one that said you’d found me.”
His brow furrowed. “I wrote no such note.”
She glanced to Renfield. “Then, you did.”
“I did not.”
Sorrington finished with the knot and stepped back. “Why would we want to alert you in such a way?”
She pursed her lips, having thought the same thing. Then, who would want to scare her? To keep her from searching for the gold? To make her return home? Her breath hitched and she glanced to Samir, realizing why the scribbled letters were familiar.
Guilt shone in his eyes. “I am sorry, pyiaa. I thought you would leave. Be safe.” He frowned. “I thought your husband would take you away that very night.” He hung his head. “I am sorry I frightened you.”
Emma wanted to go to him, to console him. She knew he meant only to protect her. “I understand, Samir.”
He lifted his head, his guilt intensifying. “I also shot up in the air at Hartford, hoping you would not go on this dangerous mission. I had a terrible feeling. Especially when Lord Jonah died…” Samir stopped speaking and swallowed, his swimming gaze tumbling to the ground.
Emma took a step, but Sorrington plopped his hand on her shoulder and kept her in place. “As touching as this little confession is, we are wasting time.”
Licking her lips, Emma wanted to waste some time. To give Lucian the chance to find her. She glanced around, for something to say, then looked to Renfield. “Why, then did you crash into our room and take the map?”
Renfield glanced to Sorrington and twisted his lips. “I was afraid Hartford would call off the search for the gold.” He glanced to the boxes, greed lighting his tawny eyes. “I needed the map and coordinates in case that happened.”
Emma frowned. “How did you know which room was ours?”
Renfield shrugged. “I watched the windows for lights and figured Hartford wanted you at the farthest room from the others.” He gave a smug grin. “Turns out, I was correct.”
Sorrington’s growl made Emma shiver. “Time to go.”
Renfield gave a nod and snapped his fingers to Samir and pointed to the gold. “Lift one of those.”
After wiping a sleeve across his eyes, Samir hefted one of the boxes. Renfield settled the pistol in his belt and retrieved the other.
Sorrington nodded to the small one still lying there, half buried in the sand. “Gather that one, will you, my dear?”
With a huff, Emma scooped up the box with her tied hands and followed the men to the horses. Renfield surprised her by walking past the horses and up the path. “Come with that box,” he called to Samir.
Moving to the side of her horse for a better view, she glanced at the road and found a hay cart waiting. Her heart pounded as she watched Renfield load the first box beneath the hay, then nod to Samir to do the same. Her jaw dropped when Renfield then crawled in to the back and disappeared inside the mound. The driver coaxed the two horses to move and the cart rolled away.
Glancing around, no doubt wondering what he should do, Samir came back down the path and stood beside Sean, still bound with rope.
“Now, for my compensation,” Sorrington chuckled, twisting the diamond ring on his little finger.
Emma glanced down to the small wooden box in her hands and lifted it up.
His grin widened as his dove-gray eyes raked her body. “Not quite.”
Her heart skipped a beat, then pounded in heavy thuds. She shuffled back a step when his meaning came clear. “You mean I am your compensation for helping Renfield?”
Leaning forward, he nodded. “Exactly so.” Taking the black gloves from his pocket, he placed them on his hands. “I have wanted you for so long, Emma. Too long. Since the day I met you, in fact. Six long years ago.” His lecherous eyes slid over her body, making her skin crawl. “At seventeen you were lovely, but now you have bloomed into a most beautiful woman.” He leaned forward, his pupils growing large. “When you arrived on my doorstep then, I knew it would be a matter of time. I waited for you to realize.” His smile faded. “Then you left me and moved to Hartford.” His gaze turned hot. “I had to take drastic measures to see you returned to me. Almost had you back, but another Hartford stole you once again.”
Emma licked her lips. The man spoke in riddles.
Sean made a choking noise, his wide eyes on Sorrington’s black gloves. “It was you. You killed Jonah.”
Her breath caught. Sean glared at Sorrington, murder glistening in his eyes. Then he struggled with the rope. “You bastard. I will kill you for what you’ve done.”
Samir let out an angry cry, then flew at Sorrington, knocking them to the ground.
Emma hopped out of the way as the two rolled on the sand, Samir’s turban getting mauled beneath their bodies. Then the men went still. Heart pounding, she watched Sorrington lift away from Samir. “No,” she whispered, when she noticed the bloody knife in his hand. Tears filled her eyes as she saw Samir on the ground, clutching his middle, blood seeping through his fingers, pain twisting his beloved face.
As she moved toward Samir, rough hands grabbed her and hefted her on a horse. Then Sorrington hopped up behind her and curled an arm about her waist, anchoring her to his body.
“Leave her, you bastard,” Sean shouted.
She clutched the box in her bound hands as the horse lunged forward. Emma could not keep her eyes from the black glove gripping her tight, smearing blood all over her clothes.
“Lucian,” she whispered in the cool ocean air as they dashed from the cove.
Chapter 29
Emma was up to something. Lucian knew the canny look well, the whirl of plans behind unfocused eyes. Rebecca had such a look when she plotted her next conquest. His heart jumped at the thought of Emma in another man’s arms and had to shake off the image. No, she hadn’t cast look-pricks at anyone, hadn’t given flirtatious smiles or batted her eyes. The little minx was up to something entirely different.
As he held Emma in his arms, trying to settle his mind to sleep, he reassured himself he would soon learn her plans. And thwart them. Besides, they were leaving in the morning. What could she do between now and then?
With that comforting thought, he breathed in her rose scent and sleep claimed him.
Something startled him awake. Lucian mopped a hand down his sweaty face, his heart racing. He’d had an awful dream. As it tried slipping from his memory, he held on to an image, and it came rushing back. A pair of black gloved hands pulling Emma down into a pit. Her reaching for him to save her. A scream on her lips as she sank farther into the darkness.
Just a God-awful, bloody damned dream.
Drawing in deep gulps of air, Lucian reached for Emma. He had to hold her, to assure himself she was well. But his hands met cool sheets. Gone? How could she be gone? Perhaps she had to relieve herself.
As his pulse hammered in his ears, Lucian threw back the bedding. “Emma?” He struck a match, the flame flaring to life as his shaking fingers lit a candle. “Emma?” He stormed to the screen, but she was not using the chamber pot. His breath caught when he spied her nightgown pooled on the floor.
For sev
eral heartbeats, he stared at the thin white material, his mind refusing to believe what he saw. Then he gnashed his teeth and turned to his clothes draped across a chair. His hands shook as he dressed, either from worry or anger, it mattered not. The little minx would have blistered ears when he finished with her. A blistered ass, too.
Within minutes, he had the entire household awake. And, as Lucian suspected after a quick search, Sean and Samir were missing, too.
“How could she leave, knowing the danger?” he asked Jeremy, who had not the disheveled look of waking but moments ago. He ran a hand down his face. “It’s just her with Sean and Samir. Not enough protection.”
“She must have learned something,” Jeremy said, settling in the chair beside him. “Something incredibly important.”
Lucian pressed two fingers to each temple. “I could tell she planned something. She had the look in her eyes all afternoon.” He leaned back in his chair. “I never would have guessed this. Why would she not tell me?”
Jeremy pursed his lips, but did not answer his question. Instead, asked one of his own. “Did she say anything, give any clue as to what she had learned?”
“No. Nothing.” Lucian eyed his friend. “Where would she have gone? Sean said he and Samir combed the areas between the start and finish. They found nothing.” He jerked to his feet, needing to move. Needing to think. “Where are the bloody horses?”
Jeremy tapped a finger against his lips, deep in thought. Lucian scowled. How could the man remain so calm? Spinning around, he paced the room. “Emma said the last area yielded no results,” he muttered. “And we know the beginning was where the gold had been found. Just the one box.”
Lucian made his fifth circuit of the room when a knock sounded at the door. “Finally, the horses are ready,” he said.
The night had cooled and misty wisps tickled his skin as he settled in the saddle. The moon had set and he ground his teeth. Darkness would serve to slow them down. Lucian drew in a breath, unclenching the leather in his hands. Would slow Emma down, as well, he reminded himself.
A dozen men, already on horseback, formed a semicircle behind them. Jeremy gave him a sidelong glance. “You know your wife better than anyone. Where shall we start?”
Lucian closed his eyes, hearing the hiss of the ocean in the distance. He drew in a misty breath. Where are you, minx? Popping open his eyes, praying he made the right choice, he spoke.
The thunder of horse hooves pounded in his ears as they raced down the road. Or was it the sound of his roaring pulse? Lucian shook his head, not giving a damn. He leaned low over his horse’s neck, the black mane slapping his face, and squinted at the road ahead. The sky had lightened to a golden peach, casting enough light to see the packed dirt. Patches of mist clung low to the ground in places but was not too thick to hide their way.
Urging his horse faster, Lucian’s hands shook with equal measures of fury and worry as he clenched the leather straps. They had to hurry. Had to hurry.
When he reached the location, his poor horse was slick with white lather and out of breath. He slid to the ground and dashed down the path. “Emma!”
Reaching the sand, Lucian skidded to a halt at the sight that met him. Sean on his knees, hands bound behind his back, leaning over someone. Was that blood? His heart surged up his throat. His legs went weak. And he took two staggering steps before he saw the figure on the sand was too large to be Emma.
Sweet relief filled his lungs, giving him strength, and he trudged forward.
Sean glanced up, eyes filled with tears. “I cannot tell if he still lives.”
Jeremy and the men hurried to them. One of the men lowered to the ground beside Samir and listened for breath. “He lives!” He pulled his neckcloth away and pressed it against the wound. “We will take him to the inn. It’s but a half mile away. The wound must be sewed shut.”
When Jeremy removed his dagger and sliced the rope around Sean’s wrists, Lucian stormed to him. “Where is Emma?” He held his breath, afraid of the answer.
“Sorrington has her,” Sean answered, rubbing his chafed skin, watching the men carry Samir up the path.
“Sorrington?” Jeremy asked. “What of Renfield?”
Sean nodded. “He was here, too. Took the gold.” He scowled. “And Sorrington’s payment for helping the bastard was Emma.”
Lucian ground his teeth. “How long ago?”
“I don’t know.” Sean glanced to the sky. “An hour, maybe less.” When Lucian started to turn away, Sean stopped him. “The gold. Renfield hid it and himself inside a hay cart.” He nodded to the road. “They couldn’t have gotten far. He might know where Sorrington has taken Emma.”
Knowing his horse was exhausted, Lucian marched to Emma’s horse and hopped up on the saddle while Sean hurried to his. Jeremy climbed on Samir’s horse and the three took off down the road.
They said nothing as they kicked up dirt and scattered the last remnants of mist holding tight to the ground. Lucian squinted at the road and slowed when he saw the cart. The large mound of hay jiggled with the turn of the creaky wheels.
Glancing to Jeremy, he nodded and the man removed two pistols from his belt, handing Sean one. Lucian removed his own weapon and they surrounded the cart.
The old driver lifted his rheumy eyes, a milky gray ring around the pupils, and scrunched his weathered face. “Wha’ ye be wantin’?” he asked, not stopping the cart.
Lucian and Jeremy trained their pistols on the mound of hay while Sean reached out and took the reins from the man’s gnarled hands. When the cart came to a shuddering halt, Lucian spoke to the mound. “Come out Renfield. We have pistols.”
The man said nothing, but a small opening appeared on the side of the mound. Seeing the barrel in time, Lucian ducked as the explosion sounded, sending starlings to flight and making his horse sidestep.
Then Renfield jumped out of the hay, throwing up yellow straw in every direction, and hopped to the ground. Jeremy moved his horse in the man’s path, knocking him on his ass. Dazed, Renfield blinked at them.
“Where has Sorrington taken my wife,” Lucian growled, unable to hold his anger in check much longer. He moved his horse to Renfield’s side, lowing his pistol to the man’s head. “And it better be the truth.”
“Leaving on a ship.” He shook his head, holding up his hands. “I don’t know where. I swear.”
Lucian leaned down so Renfield could see the fury in his eyes. “You better know something more than that, or by God, I will put a hole between your eyes.”
Renfield’s face lost all color. He gulped down a breath. “I heard him secure passage aboard The Ella Rose. I swear, that is all I know.”
Jeremy moved to his side. “We can get the destination.” He leaned close. “And your cousin has the fastest ship on the sea.”
Lucian gritted his teeth. The time it took to learn the ship’s destination, obtain Jack’s ship, and go after Emma… He closed his eyes as ugly images surfaced. Sorrington had better not harm one hair on her head.
At least she wasn’t with the man who shot her and murdered Jonah. Lucian glared down at Renfield. “You will pay for what you have done. Shooting my wife and murdering my uncle. And I intend to make certain you do not escape again.”
Renfield wagged his head. “Shooting your wife was an accident. That I promise. But I did not murder Lord Hartford.” He scrambled to his feet, wild eyes searching Sean. “Tell him, Wickham. Tell him.”
A bad feeling crawled over him as Lucian turned his head to Sean. “What is he talking about?”
A burning rage simmered in Sean’s eyes. “It was Sorrington who killed Jonah.”
Confirming his fear, Lucian’s heart gave a shudder. He placed his free hand across his chest, feeling it hammer against his palm. Emma was with that murderer now. He couldn’t think of the danger she faced. Had to force it back, else he’d not be able to think at all.
Running a shaking hand across his forehead, Lucian dashed the sweat from his brow. Think. Sorrin
gton would have brought her to Bristol, wouldn’t he? Liverpool and London were too far away. Or would he count on them searching the nearest dock and take her to one of the others instead. Think. He glanced to Jeremy and spoke his concerns.
Jeremy nodded. “I will send men to them all.” He set a hand on Lucian’s shoulder. “We will find her.”
He gave a nod, unable to speak for the moment. His throat was too clogged with fear.
“I’ll also send word to Jack and have him ready his ship.”
Lucian gave another nod. Numb. He had grown numb. Flexing his fingers, he wanted to wrap them around Sorrington’s throat and squeeze. He glanced up at the sky, watching the white puffy clouds crowd out the blue. “I would like to search Bristol. Just in case,” he said.
Jeremy gave a nod and glanced at Sean. “Can you manage this?” he asked, motioning to Renfield with a flick of his hand.
Sean’s eyes glittered. “Most certainly,” he said and leveled his pistol at Renfield’s heart. “I do not think I will have any trouble with this one.”
“Good. I will send some men to assist you,” he said.
Lucian gave Sean a nod, then turned his horse and raced down the road beside Jeremy. After a quick stop to speak to the men, they hurried to Bristol.
Teaming with people, the docks installed a lock the decade prior. Although Liverpool was growing in popularity due to the tobacco trade, Bristol still had plenty of business. Nothing like London docks, but it was bustling nonetheless.
Lucian’s heart sank at the sight of so many people. He searched from face to face, hoping to find Emma. Even though he knew she would not stand docile beside Sorrington’s sorry hide, he continued to study the crowd. Pressing a hand to his chest, he refused to know how the man would get her aboard a ship. Emma would fight. His minx would claw and scratch, not walk as a meek mouse beside her captor.
A shudder tore through Lucian as ugly thoughts assailed him. Of things Sorrington could do to subdue Emma. He gulped in air reeking of dead fish and followed Jeremy.
They stopped before one of the buildings owned by Kenbrook Shipping and slid to the ground. Jeremy nodded to one of the doors. “Let us see if Kenbrook owns the ship. If not, they will know who does.”
Lord Hunter (Secrets & Scandals Book 6) Page 26