Her Wicked White
Page 14
Will gave a terse nod. “Of course. Sorry. I want to see this business done too and I haven’t been much help.”
Dez let out some air, his shoulders loosening just a bit. “You have.” Dez had pressed for more details on the woman because her identity worried him. Not just that they didn’t know who she was. But what they did know…
They were in a war with the French and a French woman just happened to be present when his boat had been sunk in a fiery blaze. Was she a renegade taking action for her country or part of a larger network trying to help the war effort with subterfuge?
The latter frightened the hell out of him, and he was a man who was rarely scared. But his business, it supported people, a great number of them, including his brothers and his sister. People were depending on them and he’d not let them down. Unlike his father, Dez was a man who cared for those around him.
Which was why he needed to find this woman sooner rather than later and discover what she knew about him, his business, and who she worked for.
***
Fleur Dupont peaked around the corner as muted footsteps sounded on the docks.
“Arrête,” she softly whispered under her breath at the unknown men. They weren’t who she sought tonight, and she didn’t want them to come any closer. She was tucked onto a small walkway between two boats, close to where Lord White’s boat was docked. It was a precarious position and as the boats moved, they exposed her location before closing the view again.
But she’d needed to be close in case Le Serpent struck again.
Fleur knew it had been him who’d destroyed the ship last week. Her father’s friend and former partner had told her he’d be in Dover. And she’d arrived just in time to watch the boat go up in flames out in the harbor. Too late. What she didn’t know was if Le Serpent was still here, planning another attack, or if he’d moved on, finding another way to sabotage the British efforts on the home front to support the war.
Fleur had only met Le Serpent once, but she’d never forget his face. He bore a large scar that sliced the skin of his eye clear down his cheek. He often wore a patch over the affected eye. Not that his impaired vision made him any less lethal.
He was deadly.
Her memories were forgotten as the footsteps started again, coming closer. She crouched lower, hoping the fog hid her position.
“So, all that we know is that a French woman was on the dock when it happened? That’s it?”
Fleur sucked in her breath. They were discussing her!
Of course, they were. She’d been so shocked by the destruction, she’d stopped, watching explosion after explosion as the ship burned in the night. It was the reason she’d been seen. The reason Le Serpent had slipped away once again.
And who knew where he was now.
She was failing at her mission to bring her father’s killer to justice.
Worse yet, her contact, her father’s friend, had made it clear he’d not help her again. He’d only done so this time out of loyalty to her father. “He’ll get what’s coming to him, Fleur. It’s not your job to deliver justice.”
Fleur disagreed.
She had every intention of making Le Serpent pay for his crimes. Most importantly, the death of her beloved father.
The boots stopped again as she peered through the boats, two men stood on the main dock. One large, dark and ferociously handsome, the other slight and nervous looking.
“That’s it,” the smaller one said.
“That’s almost nothing.” The tall dark one bit out. “With another shipment coming in, we need a great deal more than that.”
Her mouth twitched. Part of her, the good part, if that still existed, had the slightest moment where she’d like to climb out of her hiding spot and tell him what she knew. It would help England, her new home. But that wasn’t her goal. Retribution was her business. If she could do this, she could do anything, including take over her father’s winery once the war was finally over. Which meant, she had to find the killer. And if she knew when another shipment might arrive, she had a hope, however small, that Le Serpent would return.
The boats swayed on a wave, dipping away and revealing her for a few moments.
“Dover is a big town,” the smaller one shrugged. “How are we going to find one woman?”
The dark one removed his hat, scrubbing his head, displaying the strength in his broad shoulders even as he grimaced. “Spread the word that shipment will be here at six sharp.”
“Six? But it doesn’t arrive until midnight earliest.”
The tall one nodded. “Precisely. Ben has a whole fleet of those boats. Can you believe it? We’ll sail one in six hours before the actual cargo arrives and see what happens.”
A decoy.
Fleur had to confess, she was impressed. It was a good plan and may very well flush out the attacker.
The fog was slowly thinning, making her hiding spot even more open to view. She crouched lower.
“What do you want me to do?”
“The ships are just north of here. If you leave now, you’ll be able to catch the tide. Get my brother’s empty vessel to harbor this evening.”
The second man gave a terse nod and turned. “I’ll leave at first light.”
“Excellent.” The larger one clapped the other fellow on the shoulder and then turned away as Fleur breathed a sigh of relief. Spying was not her strength. When it came to subterfuge, very little was, to tell the truth. She’d been a regular girl up until six weeks prior. Her father owned a large vineyard in the south of France where she grew up in ease and comfort with a loving family.
But she’d determined to investigate her father’s death and see it through until Le Serpent was caught and punished for his crimes.
The larger one turned back suddenly. “Will,” he said low and deep, his gravelly voice piercing into the night. She nearly screamed, her hands flying to her cover her mouth.
“Yes?”
“Watch to make certain you’re not followed. You can’t be too careful.”
The other man’s shoulders slumped. “I will. You too, White.”
So, this was Lord White. She lifted her head as she inspected the man who’d been the latest target. The fog dissipated further as a stiff wind blew, clearing the air. It pulled at his hat and cloak, making him appear almost sinister as he stood straight on the swaying dock.
He looked like the sort of man who might be able to take on Le Serpent. But then again, so had her father.
“Godspeed,” he said and turned back toward his boat once again.
Dez swung round, his gaze colliding with hers. Fleur’s heart thrummed in her chest, and her pulse roared. She opened her mouth, but no words came out as he stared at her. Through her.
She’d known of this man for the past few weeks, heard other sailors speak of him in hushed tones and now she understood why.
His very gaze had her frozen like a deer.
Somehow, with his gaze on her, he appeared even larger. And more intimidating.
She held in a gasp as his eyes narrowed. “What do you we have here?”
And then before she could move, he swooped down directly in front of her. “You’re blonde.”
She swallowed, not sure what to do. Why did he frighten her so? He was an upstanding businessman, not a spy. Should she be afraid? But his comment struck her odd considering all the things he might say. She nodded her head, knowing how poorly it looked that she’d been crouched down listening.
“Tell me, love, what’s your name?” His deep voice was surprisingly calm and gentle, compared to moments before.
The smaller man had come down the walkway as well, peering over White’s shoulder.
“My name?” she asked, sliding back a bit. Which was a mistake. The walkway ended, and her foot dangled out over air, tipping her balance back.
Her arms flailed through the air, her body trying to tighten and right itself.
Strong hands reached out, wrapping about her waist and pulling her bac
k on the safety of the walkway and then further until she pressed to his rather large and exceedingly hard chest.
“Did I detect a French accent?”
Her eyes widened. Not because she’d nearly fallen into the ocean, and not because she was pressed to the firmest chest she’d ever felt, but because she realized why he’d asked about her hair.
They’d seen her that night, the explosion likely lighting the sky. He already suspected she was the woman who’d been on the docks. She was.
And she was also in a great deal of trouble.
* * *
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