Page 30 of The Rogue

She closed her eyes and gripped the sides of the boat as though her life depended on it, quite certain that at any moment they would be tossed like a child’s toy, to sink like marbles into the fathomless cold below the thin planks of wood her feet rested on.

It was with relief and no little surprise then that the thud of wood on wood confirmed they’d made the distance between the ships. She looked at Lawrence to see his gaze trained on his ship as she drew away, as far and as fast as it could go, just as he had instructed.

The sun was sinking, and the sails all lit up in gold, making it look fanciful and unreal, like something from a mythical tale of Gods and sea monsters. For a moment she saw the loss in his eyes and then, perceiving he was watched, he blinked and forced a smile.

“You’re safe now, be home before you know it,” he said with a wink.

Henri scowled at him, and he laughed softly before the men hauled him to his feet. They set her to climb first and she made her way, hampered by sodden skirts that wrapped around her ankles and made it heavy work. She made the rail and stood shivering as she found herself confronted by armed men. So many to secure one man, it almost made her laugh. She felt Lawrence would be pleased that his reputation had made them take such measures.

She screamed as the man himself was pushed with force up over the rail. They’d made him climb with his hands bound and he hit the deck with a curse.

“For heaven’s sake, are you so timid you must abuse an unarmed man,” she raged at the sailor who had pushed him over the rail.

He scowled at her but held his tongue and snapped to attention as the commander approached them. She turned and swallowed a gasp as she saw the Earl of Falmouth stride towards her. He looked her over, those cool grey eyes sharp and assessing. She realised suddenly that she could see the likeness between the men, in their great height, in the breadth of those wide shoulders and that thick black hair. But where Lawrence’s gaze held amusement and that merry, wicked twinkle, this man’s presence was far colder.

“I am relieved to find you in such good spirits, Miss Morton,” he said, his voice as calm and emotionless as she remembered. He reached for her hand, and she curtsied, stiff and formal, as he placed a perfunctory kiss on her fingers. “I trust you are no worse for your adventures?”

Henri thought in those words there was perhaps a thread of anger, or was that concern, she couldn’t be sure.

She raised her chin. “I have been well treated, my lord, and would suggest you interview your captive in private before you allow your men to abuse him any further. I feel we both have much to tell you.”

He frowned at her, clearly perplexed by the demand in her voice, curiosity alight in his eyes.

Lawrence, she noted, had kept his eyes down, his dark hair fallen around his face.

The earl inclined his head a little. “Your wish is my command. Bring the prisoner,” he instructed, and then gestured for her to take his arm and she followed him to the captain’s cabin.

Though not much larger in size, the earl’s cabin was full of polished wood and gleaming brass. It spoke of great wealth and power, and a man who paid attention to details. Suddenly Henri found she hated him more than ever for having all this when Lawrence had lost so much.

The earl turned once Lawrence was brought in, held fast between two men who threw him forward, so he fell to his knees on the cabin floor.

“Oh, can’t you leave him be!” she exclaimed and ran back to Lawrence, falling to kneel beside him.

“If you’ll forgive me for noting it, Miss Morton, you seem unaccountably concerned for the man that kidnapped you,” the earl remarked, with a cool and slightly disgusted tone.

She stared up at him in fury, feeling the anger she had been tamping down threatening to finally overspill.

“I do not forgive you, my lord! For he did not kidnap but rescued me from a fate I could not contemplate, and if you open your eyes for a moment I think you will find you have much to forgive yourself for, if you have a heart that can feel any remorse at all.”

“Miss Morton,” Lawrence said, his voice soft and amused. “Please do not berate him so, he has nothing to reproach himself for I assure you.”

“What the devil is the meaning of this?” The earl snapped and then fell silent as Lawrence raised his head.

“Hello, Alex.”