by Sahara Kelly
Moving now. Maybe in boat. Heading out.
Finally, after what seemed like several eons, the terse communication sent Pierce’s blood thundering through his veins. It was time. Time to stop that tender from reaching its destination and time to get Minnie back where she belonged.
In his arms.
Minnie sat on the gunwale, not far from the large crates that were now completely shrouded with a large grey tarpaulin. From a distance they were probably barely noticeable as more than shapes on the back of the tender.
She clutched her bag in both hands, very aware of its precious cargo and praying that it was working as it was supposed to. Or that Pierce had guessed her destination at least. Her heart pounded as the tender eased out from the cave into the murky fog and she found herself strangely moved at the regular call of the Brass Pluggit which echoed over the waves like the mournful cry of a bereft sea monster.
The light was little more than a glimmer, but it was there. She could at least get her bearings, but it was no surprise to see that they were heading out from the coast toward the freighter.
Minnie did not want to get on board that freighter. She would do whatever was necessary to avoid that eventuality. To that end, she’d quietly and unobtrusively kicked off her boots beneath her skirt, and unbuttoned her jacket. As soon as the crew was busy—and there were only three of them manning the little vessel—she’d slip out of her sleeves and drop the garment behind her. It would be cold, but no colder than the water she planned on diving into.
Her skirt would have to go as well—the fabric would soak up water and drag her down. Cautiously she straightened her posture and moved a hand behind her as if to ease her spine. In fact she unfastened the tie at the back of her waist. One good tug and her skirt should fall away, leaving her in a light petticoat and thin blouse.
God, Pierce had better be nearby. She knew she could swim, but had no illusions about the water temperature off the Isle of Wight. It was coming straight from the Atlantic up the English Channel. And it was searingly cold, even in summer.
She wouldn’t be able to stand it for long.
It was a gamble, but one she was prepared to take. Sometimes, she realized, living required trusting someone else. She’d never been in the position of gambling her very existence on another, of placing her life literally in their hands.
Just the idea made her uncomfortable and would have been untenable not long ago. But this was Pierce. And she knew he wouldn’t let her down. Barefoot and shivering, Minnie shifted closer to the grey tarpaulin in an effort to stay out of the damp and chilly breeze.
The boat was moving slowly—the crew obviously wasn’t very familiar with sailing through this kind of fog.
She listened eagerly, the sound of the Brass Pluggit assaulting her eardrums on a regular basis, but in between she could hear little but the shush of the water against the hull of the tender. What she was hoping for, she didn’t know, but surely there would be something…
Surely he would come…
Then she stilled. There was a difference in the sound of the waves—a more regular splash—and then suddenly two large glowing eyes lit up just above the water on her side of the tender.
She gasped and nearly screamed, but even so the sound attracted the attention of the crew. Jabbering frantically, they pointed, shouted at each other and then ran forward to increase the speed of the boat.
As the engine coughed and roared under their savagely inexpert attempt to accelerate, Minnie heard her name.
“Minnie. Jump. For God’s sake—jump.”
Without a second thought, Minnie dropped everything, stood, kicked her skirt away and clambered over the gunwale, dropping feet first into the icy water.
It was dark, inky black, and as the water closed over her head, she struggled to kick herself upward.
Don’t panic. Don’t panic. You’ll die if you panic.
She repeated the words in her head, a mantra of survival as she relaxed and let her natural buoyancy lift her to the surface. Without the impediment of heavy skirts or boots, she could just about tread water.
And she didn’t have to for more than a few moments. There was something dark coming nearer, and there—a faint glimmer of blue light. The two “eyes” had been extinguished and as it got nearer, Minnie brushed wet hair from her face and realized she was close to two enclosed lamps.
A hand touched her and she nearly sobbed.
“I’ve got you. Hold on.”
Her mouth worked but no sounds came out. She could only cling to something black with both hands, a desperate grip on her life. She was losing sensation in her feet thanks to the cold and she knew she wouldn’t have been able to swim to shore as she’d originally planned.
The hands gripped her wrists, warm and strong. “This way. Darling, let go. I’ve got you. We need to move to the stern. There’s a step there. Come on, Minnie, you can do it.”
The world slowed, it seemed. Every movement was a massive effort, her brain refused to function properly and she could barely loosen her fingers enough to slide down the smooth wood to wherever she was supposed to be.
“C-c-c-cold…” She stuttered the word between chattering teeth.
“God. I know.” The grip on both wrists tightened to an almost painful lock. “Now. Kick, Minnie.”
Somehow, somewhere, she found an extra level of strength and drew from it, knowing only that Pierce had come for her. That he was here, holding her wrists, and that she would survive if she could get out of the water. Blindly she kicked, not even looking at anything, but focusing every ounce of effort into pushing upward—and out—
And finally free of the water and in Pierce’s arms.
“Oh God, oh God…” He kept repeating it, squeezing her so tightly she could barely catch what little breath she had left.
“P-P-P-P-Pierce…”
“Yes, I’ve got you. Come on. You’re freezing. Quickly, before they figure out what’s going on.”
On feet that were scarcely more than blocks of ice, she stumbled in his embrace, clinging to him now, wanting to bury herself inside his warmth.
“Easy, darling. Careful now.”
She felt cool steps and let him lift her down, down into—what? There was the crisp sound of something closing and then the blessed sensation of something soft and warm wrapping itself around her.
Blinking the blurry remnants of seawater out of her eyes, Minnie did her best to look around and stop shivering. She accomplished the first, but not the second. Apparently her body was going to call the shots when it came to the matter of near-hypothermia.
“What…? Where…?” She curled into the blanket like a kitten seeking refuge.
“You’re in my experimental vessel.” He glanced at her and grinned. “Now think for me, Minnie-love. How do we free the other three women?”
She shook her head. “D-Don’t need to.”
“What?”
“They’re still in the cave.” She rode out a massive shiver and then winced as viciously savage pins and needles darted through her feet. At least her circulation was coming back, but oh, it hurt. “I got—I got…” She sucked in a breath. “I managed to get them out of the crate when nobody was looking.”
Pierce stared at her for a moment. “So there’s nobody on the tender but the crew? You’re sure?”
Minnie nodded. “Three crew. Sailing out to the freighter. They were supposed to leave tonight but they’re going to wait until the fog lifts. I heard one of them talking about it in English. The rest of the time I think they were speaking Indian. I couldn’t understand a word…” She grimaced. “Not nice people, Pierce.”
“Not much of anything anymore.” His voice was cool now as he sat down in what looked like a tall stool in front of a wheel.
Minnie tried to absorb more of her surroundings. The water was splashing over the sides of the boat—at least the ones she could see through the murk outside. Her senses told her they were almost submersed and yet there was still a
tiny hint of light through the glass windows in front of them.
“This is…amazing, Pierce.”
He shrugged, seemingly focused on adjusting dials and tapping them. “It’s still an experiment. I didn’t have time to show you.”
She noticed the screen. “Ah. You did see me.” The shape of the freighter and the tender were clearly recognizable. “Your whatchamacallit worked then?”
“Damn.” He glanced at her. “Are you warm enough to send a message? The telegraph is next to you and Felicia and Dusk are on the other end at the Brass Pluggit.”
She extracted a cool hand and touched the telegraph key. “I think so. What shall I tell them?”
He chuckled. “Telling them you’re alive would be good. Then tell them to stand by for some fireworks.”
“Um…” Minnie thought about that statement for a moment or two. “All right.”
She tapped out the message. Fireworks? In this fog? Surely not…
The response was immediate and emotional. It had to be Felicia and Minnie grinned as she translated the clicks. Thank God. Welcome back. We were so worried. Come home now. There was a brief pause then Let the fireworks loose.
“Felicia says let the fireworks loose.” She looked over at Pierce. “What does that mean?”
He shifted a little more, his eyes focusing into a small circular window, his hands moving two knobs very slowly. “It means that Dusk knows what’s about to happen…”
“Oh?”
“Ssh…”
Minnie shushed as silence fell. And then there was a large thumping whoosh.
“Watch.” Pierce stood and came to her then, wrapping his arms around her and turning her so that they could both peer out of the tiny window above them.
Suddenly there was a brilliant flash that lit up the ocean and filtered through the fog to reflect from the side of the freighter.
Minnie gasped. “God we’re closer than I thought.”
Pierce agreed. “See? Fireworks.”
There were indeed fireworks. Explosions shooting flaming debris off the tender as something impacted against it and blew it up most satisfactorily.
“Did you do that?” Minnie stared.
“Yes. And don’t ask me to apologize or feel sorry about it. I won’t and I’m not. They were going to take you away. Or worse.”
She said nothing, simply rubbed her cheek against his dark sweater.
“Oh. Look…do you see…?”
“Yes.” Minnie blinked, squinting as if she could see better with her eyes half closed. “For a moment I thought I saw more ships.”
“Wait.” He turned to his screen and she leaned over him as she shared his surprise.
“Whoa.”
They both looked at what appeared to be a flotilla of vessels nearing the freighter from the ocean side. And the burning tender—or what was left of it—churned toward it from the coastal approach.
“Oh, oh.” Pierce moved quickly. “Sit down, Minnie. We have to get out of here in a hurry.”
“We do?” She sat, tucking her feet into the blanket. “Why?”
“Two reasons.” Pierce was fiddling with things, and engine noises thrummed around her as he spun the wheel. “First reason, those other ships are friendly. They belong to the Royal Navy I think, to judge from the way they’re sailing in formation. However, I don’t want the Royal Navy to see this little fish. Not yet, anyway.”
“All right.” She nodded, understanding his predicament. “And the second reason?”
Before he could answer, there was a massive explosion. This one lit up the entire sky, flooding the cabin with light, turning darkness into day.
“Oh my.” Minnie answered her own question.
“Yes. We have to get out of here, out of range of that backwash.” His face was intense, focused on his controls. “C’mon, Black Fish. Swim like hell.”
Minnie made sure the blanket was securely tucked around her body and her feet, and then slipped down to the floor in a tidy bundle. “Did I mention I’m not very fond of carnival rides?”
Pierce’s crack of laughter rode with them as the Black Fish rose high on the first shock wave—and rolled—and crested…
Chapter Thirteen
“And she outperformed my highest expectations.” Pierce grinned as he reached for the wine. “Rolled along with those waves like…well, probably like this would if we tossed it into a storm.” He uncorked the bottle and topped up his glass.
They were all comfortably ensconced in the Brass Pluggit, Felicia and Dusk—their faces wreathed with smiles—with himself and Minnie, the latter swathed in two of his best wool sweaters, a thick skirt and what looked like several pairs of socks.
She’d gotten her color back, which was a relief to Pierce, and had refused the brandy Felicia had tried to make her drink, insisting that being nearly frozen was enough to deal with. She didn’t need a hangover to go with it.
Wine, however, was acceptable, so they were happily killing off their second bottle and exchanging their stories.
“So the Navy rescued the women?” Felicia reached for a piece of fruit and washed it down with her wine.
“Yes.” Pierce nodded. “I took a chance on trying to reach them by telegraph. There are some public call signs that are recognizable, especially from a lighthouse, and one sailor, bless him, responded. After that it was—if you’ll all pardon the pun—smooth sailing.”
Three simultaneous groans made him smile. He ignored their drama and continued. “They sent a couple of their boats into the cave and found the women exactly where you’d left them, Minnie. They’re on one of the vessels now, heading back to London.”
Minnie snickered. “I wonder how that’s going. Given their choice of occupation and a ship full of lusty sailors.”
“Hmm.” Felicia snickered too.
“So how did you free them, Minnie?” Dusk tipped his head to one side. “We know they weren’t where they were supposed to be. How did you manage it?”
She took a breath and Pierce leaned over to hug her. “Well, she is magic, you know.”
An amused outcry greeted this encomium and Minnie, to Pierce’s amusement, actually blushed. “It wasn’t magic at all.” She shot a glance at him, one that threatened retribution later. He shot her one back that clearly implied he was looking forward to it.
“Anyway.” She ignored him. “There were a lot of things working in our favor. They were rushing, hurried because of the weather, and I don’t think they were very happy at all about having to go out on the water in the fog.”
“They probably don’t even do that trip in the winter.” Dusk pursed his lips. “Why risk it?”
“Go on, Minnie.” Felicia touched her arm.
“When they opened the first crate, I knew what was going to happen. And sure enough one of the men grabbed little Jane and tugged her over, shoving her inside. There were two ledges, one for each woman. It was pretty dark in there so when the second one was inside, he closed up the side of the crate. But the latch didn’t catch properly. So as soon as he moved away, Dorothy and I did what we’d planned. She opened the crate and hurried the girls out. There were enough supplies and boxes stacked willy-nilly for them to hide behind, while I pulled a couple of sacks of sand over, pushed them into the crate and shut it up again.”
“Goodness.” Felicia’s eyes were wide.
“It was a bit more difficult when he came back for the third girl.” Minnie lowered her eyes. “That didn’t go so smoothly.”
“Really?” Pierce lifted an eyebrow.
“Unfortunately yes.” She cleared her throat. “I had to…um…cosh him.”
“Good for you.” Dusk applauded.
“I didn’t want to, but this time the crate latched. We needed the key. So Dorothy passed me a length of metal piping and I…er…I hit him with it. Hard.”
“Bravo.” Pierce laughed aloud. “You are an Amazon, Minnie.”
“It wasn’t a pleasant sensation, all things considered.” She wrinkl
ed her nose. “It accomplished the goal, but it feels rather nasty, if you want to know the truth. He was still breathing when we dragged him under a pile of dirty sacking, but even so…”
Pierce bit back another laugh. “Well, I’m sure the Navy will give him something for the headache he probably has.”
“Yes.” She frowned. “How on earth did the Navy manage to show up at exactly the right time?”
Dusk shifted awkwardly. “Well, that was partly my fault. I couldn’t be sure how things would turn out, so I sent a brief message up to Whitehall. I didn’t know if it would get any attention, but apparently others had been keeping their eye on Godolphin. So it wasn’t a huge surprise.”
“Whitehall?” Minnie asked, watching Dusk closely as a few little comments slotted neatly into place in her brain. “Mr. B.D? Any chance that might be someone whose name we all know quite well? As in our Prime Minister? Mr. Benjamin Disraeli?”
“Er…” Dusk looked embarrassed.
“And you’re not planning on making any curtains are you? That entire message was letting you know the status of the operation.” Felicia crowed triumphantly. “I knew it. It sounded much too familiar. My late husband was rather good at coding his messages along those lines.”
“Well…” Dusk glanced anxiously at Pierce. “I am not spying on you, Pierce. I hope you realize that. I was simply asked to do my duty as a patriot. You’re a well-known scientist and the government has some concerns about various events taking place, both here and abroad. I’m not the only Englishman who’s been asked to keep his eyes open.”
“I suppose I should be surprised, or perhaps even shocked.” Pierce finished off his wine. “But I’m not. I’m actually rather relieved to know that the authorities are on the job. Not to mention flattered in a rather obscure sort of way. Secret observations, spies, the Government watching…it’s like some sort of mystery novel, isn’t it?”
“I suppose one could look at it like that, yes.”
“At least we saved lives tonight.” Felicia’s fingers stroked her wineglass. “Those women could have died.” She looked up. “Come to think of it, do we know who killed the others?”