Enticing the Earl (30 page)

“Y
ou are so anxious to find your way out?” someone
spoke softly into her ear, with a heavy Asian accent. “Perhaps I can assist you, yes?”

She wanted to weep, to scream. To have come so far, only to fail.

Lauryn didn't answer. She would struggle, but he had his arm about her neck, and she barely had air to breathe.

Where the hell was Carter?

There seemed to be only one smuggler here. He pushed her out onto a clear area of the deck, closer to a lantern which flickered dimly, giving a small circle of light. But the man stood behind her, holding her stiffly, so she still could not see him.

“I recognize your ugly alien faces,” he said, his voice soft. “You are the sister of the brainless one who was watching from the tavern.” He addressed Carter. “And you have been to the shop, trying to find out more than you should. You spoke of the house when you were deepest in your drug dream. We had already followed you back to the house in the countryside where you all live. Is it not so?”

He tightened his hold on her neck, and she was too afraid to move. Her assailant seemed to take this as a yes, and she was not about to correct his assumptions about family ties and put Marcus in danger, too.

“We do not like to be followed; we do not like strangers to know about us or our business. Those who do have short lives,” her unseen aggressor remarked, with his cold voice. “Our business thrives as long as others ignore us. What we do is easy enough. All we need in the ports is a greedy Englishman or two, and they are easy enough to find. We have important backers. Then there is the opium you locked away from us in the warehouse. You deserve to be punished for that, do you not?”

Lauryn felt as if she had been dipped in ice. Oh, dear God, how was she going to get out of this?

“But first, how did you escape from your compartment?” he demanded.

She didn't even try to answer. He jerked a little on her neck, which made her gag.

“You will respond to me.” He repeated the question.

“I turned into a bird and flew,” she said, not seeing that she had anything to lose, except a minute or two of time. She was fast losing hope. He held her tightly, and she could see no way to get past his grip.

“You are a witch, perhaps? I have heard the stories. Witches do not like water. Perhaps we should throw you into the ocean and we will be rid of your tricks, yes?”

She shuddered, and was sorry at once as she knew that he felt it.

She thought that he laughed, very low, and the sound made anger spark through her.

“Ah, you do not like this idea. Then it must be a good one. Unfortunately, I must consult with my superior before I toss you over like garbage,” he said, his tone, she was sure, designed to be insulting. “He advised holding onto you for a time in case we should need a hostage.”

He raised his voice and called out in his own language, and two more crew members appeared out of the darkness. He removed his arm from her neck and pushed her, and she almost fell. But the two other men grabbed her and shoved her roughly. She fell to the wooden deck and sat there, rubbing her bruised arms.

They were to guard her, Lauryn guessed, while the first man went to get orders on what to do with her now.

But where had Carter disappeared to, and would they check their jail first and find the man she had murdered?

She shivered again. If so, the Asians might not settle for a simple drowning; they might torture her first. Or, heavens, who knew? She needed to get out of here, now!

But she couldn't leave Carter behind. Anyhow, she didn't know how to get away again, with two alert jailers now staring at her.

Then a wisp of movement behind the two men, who stood at the outer circle of the light, both watching her intently, made her blink.

Carter?

Had her two watchmen noticed? No, they didn't turn, and they seemed to have eyes only for her. She plunged her hands deep in to the pockets of her top, wondering if Carter had any ideas. He was still so dazed from the drugs, she rather doubted it. If he tried to attack one of the men, the other would overcome him in short order, even if the first one didn't.

She had his small knife, but with two guards, that seemed worthless, and anyhow, she remembered the blood pouring from the man she had killed and wasn't sure she could do that again, even if she had a hope of hitting the right spot.

Lauryn felt the balls in her pocket and realized she had forgotten she had them, although she still didn't know what they were for. She put one hand back to her nose, trying to identify the odor. And suddenly she knew—it was gunpowder.

These balls held gunpowder?

How could she use them?

If she could set them off—the lantern. She needed to get them inside one of the lanterns. But how, with the men watching?

She stared back at her two jailers, watching them as intently as they watched her. “Could I have a drink of water?” she asked, her tone civil.

They stared at her, not even blinking.

“Just a drink of water?”

Their expressions didn't change.

“Your mother is a pig,” she said clearly.

No change.

“I don't think you understand English,” she said.

“I think I must do my spell dance,” she told them, standing up. “And if I eject circles of power, they must be put into the fire. If there is a spirit outside the circle, whose name is Carter, he must put them into the fire.”

Bringing her hands out of her pockets, concealing what she gripped in each fist, she waved her arms into the air, back and forth, in a rhythmic pattern.

The two men still watched, but they glanced at each other, looking somewhat uneasy. She turned and twisted, singing anything that came into her head, snatches of folk song, old nursery rhymes, and always circling a little so she could make them turn with her, so that she edged into the darkness. Waving her arms back and forth, bending to the deck, she rose to the tip of her toes, then bent again, and when she spun the dark paper-covered balls across the deck, she saw the men blink, but she suspected they were not sure of what they saw because she immediately spun back the other way. The two guards turned back with her as if afraid of what she would do next.

They were muttering to each other now. Did they really believe she was a witch? If so, they had a surprise coming soon.

To her relief, she saw Carter behind the guards' backs, sneaking up and opening the lantern's door and slipping the small balls inside its glass guard, then he retreated rapidly.

Abruptly she ceased her singing, and dropped to the deck and covered her head with her arms.

Looking perplexed, the guards stared at her.

The lantern exploded.

One of the guards shouted with pain. A jagged piece of metal had sliced into his cheek. The other seemed more frightened than hurt. Shouting in his own language, he beat the flames out of his clothing.

Lauryn didn't wait to see what happened next. She ran for the dark end of the ship, hoping to find a place to hide, and some way off the damn boat. If necessary, they would have to swim for it. She heard the sound of footfalls and saw Carter pounding along beside her.

“Well done,” she breathed.

“Good job to think of the fireworks,” he muttered. He seemed to be getting his head in order, as if the drugs might be fading at last from his blood.

“Is that what they were?” she asked. “I should have brought more along. Quiet, now.” She ducked under a sail and looked about for a decent hiding place.

Another dusky shadow rose up out of the darkness. She gasped as a hand rose to cover her mouth. Not again!

Then she almost fainted with joy.

She knew the touch and the smell. Not an Asian this time—it was Marcus!

He pulled her hard against him, then, when she clung to him, took his hand away from her mouth and gave her a swift, hard kiss instead.

“How did you get here?” she whispered.

He motioned to Carter for silence.

“We have boats below; we were waiting for some way to get up to the deck unnoticed when you created a splendid diversion,” he replied, his voice very quiet. “This way.”

He led her toward the side of the ship, and she followed, moving as carefully through the darkness as she could, when suddenly a small light appeared out of the blackness, illuminating a man's face.

Marcus stopped so suddenly that she walked into his back and grunted slightly, then she glanced around him. She started to speak, then bit her lip instead, not sure what was going on.

Behind her, Carter was less careful. He sauntered forward. “Here, Tweed, what're you doing here, ol' man? You get knocked on the head by these Chinese blokes, too?”

“Shut up, Carter,” Marcus muttered.

The man holding the small torch smiled, but it was not a cordial expression.

“No, Carter. You have no room in your small brain for subtleties, do you? Did it never occur to you that I might be the one giving the Chinese crew orders instead of the other way around?”

“What?” Carter stared at him.

Eyes widening, Lauryn saw Marcus's shoulders tighten, but she felt his lack of surprise, as well.

“You don't seem to be shocked, ‘partner,'” Tweed said. “Don't say you had already suspected me?”

“I didn't want to,” Marcus said, his voice low. “But you did have every opportunity, eight years ago. You knew the shipping schedules; you knew the captain of the
Brave Lassie
. You could easily have handled getting the opium off the ships un-challenged. And you always had a hunger for advancement. But you were making money; you were already getting ahead, Tweed, so why?”

The silence seemed long. She could hear the waves hitting the side of the ship, and in the distance, the sound of Chinese voices. Oh, God, she thought. More crew were coming. Marcus and Carter and she would soon be overwhelmed by sheer numbers, and all would be lost.

“Not fast enough,” Tweed said, his voice ugly. “Not fast enough, Sutton. You stand there, with your title, and your wealth, and your handsome face—how dare you fault me for wanting more?”

“But you have it now; you've got your title and your wealth against all the odds,” Sutton pointed out quickly, his voice low and urgent.

Did he hear the sound of running feet, too? Lauryn felt a drop of perspiration run down the small of her back. The crew were coming, and the three of them would not have a prayer.

“And now you've found the girl you want—so why take such chances? Why stoop to murder again?” the earl demanded.

“It's not enough,” Tweed said, sounding desperate. “You should see the damned diamond diadem she's picked out for her engagement present. She always wants more and anyhow, I know too much to stop. This is only a sideshow, pocket money. The important trade goes to big companies, English companies, trading Indian opium into China for big money. I just wanted a little piece of it.” He was sweating, too.

It all sounded like nonsense to Lauryn. She knew only that he was going to hold them here until more Chinese arrived, and they would be lost—murdered—how on earth could they evade the man's gun? Daring a quick peek around the earl's shoulder, she saw the pistol pointed at them and felt Marcus's gathering tension. He was going to try to rush Tweed, and Marcus would be shot at close range—she could not let him sacrifice himself for the rest of them! Oh, heavens, what could she do?

She dug her hands into the pockets of her outfit—one last firework ball remained. She pulled it out. If she could hit the torch that he held, the open flame—make just enough of a blast to startle him…

She touched Marcus's back to warn him and felt him tense again, though he would not know why. Praying that her aim was good, she stepped a few inches to the side and threw.

The gunpowder exploded in their faces.

Marcus ducked and pulled her down with him.

Tweed instinctively jerked his head away from the fiery exploding powder as he pulled the trigger. But he had lost his careful aim. The ball went up and over them, and then Tweed sagged, cradling his face in his arms.

She wanted to ask Marcus if he was hurt, just to be sure, but he was dragging her with him toward the bow of the ship. “Come on, Carter,” he called. “Hurry!”

Crew members were running toward them.

Marcus pulled his own gun from his waist. He fired toward the smuggler leading the rest, and the man fell. Then Marcus lifted her over the side, and she fitted her feet into the rope ladder that hung over the side of the ship.

At another time she would have sworn she'd never be able to climb down such a thing, but when one's life hangs on the need, unusual skills blossom. Lauryn scrambled down with more speed than grace, then gasped as she lost her footing and fell the last couple of feet. But hands reached out to catch her so she did not drop into the water.