EscapeWithMe (23 page)

“I see. We’ll make it this time. I’m sure of it.” They’d see
a red dawn too. She was also pretty sure of that.

“Your vote of confidence is appreciated,” he said smugly.

Her eyebrows went up. “Maybe my vote is for MacKenzie.” She
even stuck out her tongue. His tight-lipped smile broke out into a laugh.

“Yes, well…I helped.” More than just helped, she thought.
MacKenzie had been given command of the ship for their illicit venture, but
when the revenue cruiser appeared, he deferred to Ryder’s sudden stream of
orders as though it were ingrained in him to obey.

“You seem happier at sea,” she observed.

“Only because it is familiar. I do not recall with fondness
many aspects of life on the water, though London suits me ill as well. I rather
find myself searching for something new and different.”

She could relate. She had never felt so directionless. Did
she want to go back to her old life just because it was familiar? Before her
mother died, she had considered going back to school to finish her master’s and
then maybe earn a doctorate, but those plans were put on hold. Then when her
father passed away, she was reluctant to return to school, though she had
little obligation to keep the shop open.

“Do you not agree, Samantha?” Ryder closed the distance
between them. His voice was softer. “We could escape together to find a new
life.”

“Maybe I’m frightened,” she whispered. The light was behind
him and it was difficult to read his mood, but his hands were gentle as he drew
her against him.

“Frightened of change?”

“Of regret. Not taking one path means you’ll never discover
what’s at the end of it.”

His hand went around her waist. “What does your heart tell
you?”

That very organ was swelling and beating loudly enough to
hear. “I shouldn’t listen to my heart.” It clung to false hopes, desired more
than what was possible and demanded she do what she wanted rather than what was
right.

“To deny one’s heart is to invite regret.” His other hand
cupped the back of her head. His breath was on her cheek. “Samantha. Escape
with me.”

She squeezed her eyes shut and clung to him. He sealed their
lips together.

This would haunt her dreams—memories of him coaxing a response
from her body, whispering things that peeled away her defenses and plunged them
into the endless depths of their desire for each other.

They didn’t have to be mere memories.

The kiss deepened. He held her closer. The ship moved
endlessly beneath their feet but he kept them upright. She prayed for time to
stand still, to slow the approach of dawn.

She felt something through her skirt. One of her hands
slipped between them and palmed his erection. His mouth broke away on a groan.
She rubbed him through his breeches and summoned a lusty growl. She needed one
more taste, to feel him between her legs and hear his climax.

His voice was deep and strained as he spoke to the ceiling.
“I…I’m afraid there is little time until we reach shore.”

“Then we should hurry.”

Ryder moaned and grasped her close. His strength still
surprised her as he carried her to an obliging crate and set her on top. They
spent no time on unnecessary buttons. She all but ripped open the fore-flap of
his breeches. He bunched up the front of her skirt and greedily hooked his
hands under her knees. She braced one hand behind her while the other pumped
his cock. He jerked her to the edge of the crate. A heartbeat and he was
sinking into her.

The room shrank to just the two of them. She could only see
the outline of his broad shoulders, backlit by the lantern. They rolled as he
gently stroked into her. She could only feel where he touched her. Her knees
were draped over his elbows, his fingers were splayed wide around her thighs,
and his cock slid deep. She could only hear their gasps and sighs. Ryder
whispered deliciously lewd things, told her to touch herself. Her free hand
went between her thighs. He grunted with approval and his hips thrust faster.

The pressure was building so sweetly. Tingles and warmth
that promised satisfaction were gathering where she was clamped around his
cock. Her head went back. Her fingers swirled her clit. His gruff sighs were
getting louder.

Heat and pleasure suffused her. She gave a shaky cry. Ryder
slowed and circled his hips against her. The arm bracing her gave out and she
lay back on the crate. She tried to tell herself that the room was pitching
because they were on a ship, but the ecstasy swimming through her veins was
more likely to blame. She wanted to tell him how addicted she was to him, that
her body ached for him at all times, that her heart wanted him and not her old
life.

“I love you,” was all she could say.

Ryder groaned. His cock throbbed inside her.

The world opened up again and it wasn’t just them anymore.
They were quiet as they cleaned up and straightened their clothes. Ryder
mentioned feeling hungry and they contemplated a quick snack.

Before they reached his cabin, however, MacKenzie shouted
from above deck, “Ryder, you had better see this.”

Ryder closed his eyes and dropped his head. “Damn it. I do
not relish the idea of outrunning that cruiser again.”

They went to the steps leading above deck, and Sam’s heart
sank at the rusty light cast on the stairs by the rising sun. Ryder went up
first. She heard him curse and worried the cruiser had found them. She followed
him up.

Her prayer for time to slow down was answered. She froze at
the top of the stairs and was filled with panic.

“Oh God,” she whispered.

The air was thick with dry fog that veiled the horizon. The
world spun in slow motion as she looked to the sunrise. It wasn’t the red that
sailors feared. It was apocalyptic. The glowering sun was like a drop of
luminescent blood, its brightness dimmed. One of the crewmen crossed himself.

It was the persistent haze she had warned would cover all of
Europe for the entire summer, the fallout from a major volcanic eruption far
away in Iceland. Would Ryder remember that moment of idiocy when she had
predicted it? Would he remember her claiming she was born in the 1980s?

She prayed he didn’t. They had polished off an entire bottle
of champagne when she said it, and he had laughed as if it was all just a joke.
Then so much happened later that night when he was ejected from the brothel and
had to search the nearest watch-houses for her.

But as she anxiously watched the play of emotions across his
face, she could see the puzzle pieces coming together, nice and snug.

He looked at her as if he were seeing her for the first
time. His eyes went from head to toe and back. His head subtly shook as though
it should’ve been obvious from the start.

“That’s why you couldn’t tell me.”

“Ryder, I…didn’t know
how
to tell you.”

It all seemed to hit him at once and he took a step back
from her. His emotions were a mix of fear and hurt, the exact expression she
hoped never to see.

“Tell him what, exactly?” MacKenzie cut in. The sailor
looked at her with more than an ounce of superstition. She had heard him balk
at the notion of a woman on the ship.

“We’ll be right back,” she blurted. She grabbed the front of
Ryder’s vest and hauled him below deck.

“That night in the brothel…” He talked dazedly. “All those
things you said. You knew. You…” His mind was blown and it was no wonder. If he
weren’t in shock, she would’ve been more concerned.

“I can explain…sort of.”

“Is this even possible? How are you here?”

“That’s the ‘sort of’ part. I don’t know how I got here. I
can tell you what happened, but not how.”

“I see.”

She watched him carefully as she recounted the evening when
Brian shot her and the scary moments when she woke up in someone’s dusty attic.
Dubious was a tame word to describe his reaction, especially when she got to
the bizarre and mutable nature of her locket.

“Wait, it told you about me? And Webb?”

She nodded. “And Mrs. Hayes as well as Phillip. You’re
represented by a hawk.”

“A hawk?” His eyes dropped to the locket. “May I see it?”

She walked to the hanging lantern and Ryder followed. He
leaned in and carefully picked it up. He first examined the cage etched onto
the front with its diamond lock.

“Why do you always wear it?”

“It’s some kind of anchor. Without it…”

He looked up with concern. “You’ll drift away?”

“The bullet that hit me will finish the job.” He didn’t like
hearing that. His mouth flattened and his eyebrows came down. A second later,
they shot back up.

“The blood on the towels—”

“Exactly.”

Ryder ground his jaw and flipped the locket over. His
forehead almost touched her face as he leaned even closer to better read the
inscription. “Choose. What does that mean?”

Her heart was choking her. “Open the locket.” She almost
hoped the locket pulled a Houdini and hid the note from him.

A pop and then Ryder was pulling something out. She looked
away. Ryder released her now-empty locket and unfolded the note. He read the stanza
under his breath. Then he read it again.

And again.

He made a noise and she swung her head back. His stare was
consuming. Tears swam in his eyes.

“Ryder, I…” God, she didn’t know what to say. He blinked
hard and then broke eye contact. He took slow, steady breaths.

“Is this what you want? To go home?”

His question twisted some vital part of her and she fought
to breathe. A tear slipped past her control. Her voice was shaky. “I don’t
know.”

He inhaled through clenched teeth. Not the answer he wanted.

“And I wouldn’t even remember you? How could this—this
thing
rip out my heart so easily?”

Sam didn’t have an answer for that.

MacKenzie shouted from above deck. “What should we do?”
Ryder threw a glare at the empty stairs.

“You know what a volcano is, right?” she asked him. Ryder’s
instant confusion was her answer. Well then. “I can give you a layman’s
explanation of geology later, but it’s enough for now to know that this
obviously isn’t normal fog. If MacKenzie can’t navigate in this…”

He nodded slowly. “Then we can’t land.”

“Everyone should cover their mouths if they can and take
breaks below deck. The air isn’t safe to breathe.”

“I see.” He studied his boots as he handed back the note. He
then stiffly turned away and marched up to the deck. He didn’t look back when
she didn’t follow.

“What devilry is this?” MacKenzie ground out when Ryder
emerged from below deck. “I told you we shouldn’t have brought a woman aboard—”

“Don’t be a fool,” Ryder barked. “If such a fog were
conjured up every time a woman was on a ship, we’d have heard about the
phenomenon by now.”

“I spy a cloven foot in all this, sir. It’s not right.”

“You said to me you could find our beach in the darkest of
nights. Was that true?”

MacKenzie gaped. “You cannot be serious.”

“I am.” Ryder raised a pointed hand. “The fog will hinder
the cruiser just as it hinders us, and we’re not looking for a moving target.
The riding officers will have to be quite lucky to spot us, assuming they are
out in this fog at all. If we have visibility at even a mile, we’ll find the
beach, weight what cargo we can offshore and bury the rest. We can return once
we gather the men for land transport.”

MacKenzie opened and closed his mouth as he tried to object.
“Damn it.” He sighed in resignation.

Ryder slapped MacKenzie’s shoulder. “Good man. Have these
men cover their mouths. The fog has a foul odor and they should not breathe it
long. No man should be above deck more than an hour.”

He turned at MacKenzie’s nod and spotted Samantha at the
stairs leading below deck. One of her hands was wrapped around the locket while
the other held a kerchief to her mouth. Her sad eyes held his gaze only a brief
moment before she returned below.

It was too difficult to fathom.

The things she knew, the way she had lived, and her presence
in his life were all beyond his most fantastical notions. He had always been a
practical man, not prone to daydreams, but that odd awareness in her manner and
the sense of otherness that clung to her, which no other person he had ever met
possessed…

She didn’t belong in this age.

Was his love not enough? Did she suffer here as though in
exile? If so, he knew he should let her go, but his heart broke at the thought
of her walking through some otherworldly gate, never to return. Her brilliance,
her open laugh and her mischievous eyes would be gone forever.

He could not let that happen.

Chapter Fifteen

It was seven in the morning when they neared their landing
spot. No other spotsman would have succeeded but MacKenzie, who recognized
vague outlines along the shore and had been absolutely certain of their
position. To hope they could discern all-clear signals from their other
potential landing spots was vain, so MacKenzie brought the ship closer to the
beach.

From the corner of his eye, Ryder spied Samantha emerge from
below deck. She held a kerchief against her mouth and for a moment observed
their approach to the beach. Her eyes then swept the deck and stopped on him.

He hid nothing of what he felt, the love and need. He willed
her to know the fulfillment and contentment she gave him, and that she would
never regret remaining by his side. He would do anything to make her happy.

She took the kerchief from her mouth. Something in her eyes
gave him hope.

MacKenzie ordered the crew to prepare to weight their brandy
cargo and Ryder pulled his eyes away from Samantha. The beach was yet half a
mile away, still shrouded with the sickly haze.

A flash caught his eye.

“Look!” He pointed to where he had seen the light and it
instantly reappeared. It was Kelter with their signal. The coast was clear.

MacKenzie slapped his hand on the ship’s rail. “I vow I
shall kiss that man when next we meet.” The crew cheered at their good fortune.
MacKenzie ordered them to stop their efforts to weight the cargo and instead
prepare the tub-boats. When they were as close as possible to shore, he ordered
them to drop anchor.

The crew worked quickly and gladly to offload the
contraband, and though Ryder normally would have lent a hand, he refrained.
Samantha was at a section of rail where she would not be underfoot and she
watched the crew hasten to be off for Poole as soon as possible. He would be
damned if he even turned his back to her.

“I’ll be riding with the first boat, MacKenzie.”

His friend grinned. “Will you tell Kelter that he can expect
a beer from me?”

“What happened to the kiss you promised?” Ryder asked.
MacKenzie chuckled. “Samantha will be coming with me.”

Her eyes shot to him. They were wide and held the obvious
question. MacKenzie grumbled his agreement that she disembark sooner rather
than later. Ryder walked to Samantha at the rail and trapped her with an arm on
either side. He leaned close.

“You’re mad if you think I’ll let you out of my sight,” he
whispered.

When the tub-boat was loaded, he went down first and plucked
Samantha from the ship’s ladder when she was within reach. He and a crewman
then rowed ashore.

On the beach, men appeared from behind dunes and beachside
brush. They erupted with hurrahs as the boat hit sand and wasted no time
unloading the contraband. Ryder scooped Samantha from the boat and waded up to
dry sand where he set her down.

“Was damned worried, Ryder,” Kelter said. He smiled as they
shook hands. “This fog is an ill omen, as the minister would say.”

“I don’t believe for a moment that you attend service, Kelter.”

“Miss Reed, always a pleasure.” He bowed his head at
Samantha. “I had thought not to see you until Hounslow Heath, miss.”

“Didn’t Phillip tell you?” she asked.

“Yes, where is my brother, Kelter? I had thought to see him
here.”

“Phillip, sir?”

Kelter’s confusion put a cold knot in Ryder’s stomach. “I
sent him to meet you in Christchurch. Did he not arrive?”

“No sir. I’ve not seen him. I had no idea he was coming to
Hampshire.”

Samantha put her hand on his arm. “Webb.”

Ryder clenched his hands. That cold knot was like ice in his
gut.

Kelter cupped his hands around his mouth. “We’re in for a
fight, boys! Are you going to let the preventatives take away your hard-earned
pay?” The scores of men on the beach let out a cry, some brandishing their bats
and others punching fists into the air.

Webb was the only explanation. If his letter to Phillip
somehow hadn’t arrived or hadn’t been read, Phillip would have otherwise been
at the packet bound for Le Havre. Ryder did not want to imagine in what
condition his brother fared. He did want to take the nearest horse and ride to
London, but he was to drive the last cart as far as Southampton and if he left
Samantha behind…

Nearly an hour saw their contraband spirited away from the
beach. He knew when the last tub-boat rowed ashore upon seeing Samantha’s bag
and the trunk filled with French silk. Only Kelter and a couple of laborers
were left to load it onto the cart. Ryder went to the crewman who waited to row
the tub-boat back to the
Westerly Wind
.

The sailor nodded at him. “Captain MacKenzie bids you good
luck, sir. He goes directly to Poole. God have mercy on us this day, he says.”

“Tell him he’s a brave sailor, and that Kelter eagerly
awaits that kiss.”

“Yes sir,” the crewman said with a grin. The laborers helped
him push the tub-boat off the sand and then drove the second-to-last cart away
from the beach.

“You’ll see that the
Westerly Wind
sails onward?”
Ryder asked of Kelter. His colleague tipped his hat.

“Aye, sir, though I should scout for the riding officers. I expected
them to find us by now.”

“I pray this fog proves to be a boon. Even if Webb has
Phillip, my brother does not know this coast as well as MacKenzie. He would not
be an ideal guide.”

“Your brother will see through this, God willing. Good luck,
Ryder.”

They shook hands. Ryder returned to the last cart and sat on
the driver’s bench next to Samantha. She was quiet and her brow furrowed.

He slapped the reins and the horse walked them from the
sandy, spiky grass at the edge of the beach. Another slap and it sped up to a
trot. A moment later, they penetrated the tree line and followed the green path
that avoided the main road.

Samantha broke the silence. “I know this won’t make you feel
better, but maybe Phillip is with your father. Perhaps he…took a turn for the
worse.”

“Phillip would have sent word that he would not be traveling
to France.”

Her voice was soft. “I’m sure he’s fine.”

He knew she wished to calm him, but nothing short of seeing
Phillip in front of him, unharmed and safe, would set his mind at ease.

Faint shouts reached them through the woods. If Ryder needed
any further proof that Webb was ensnaring them in his net, this was it. He
coaxed the horse into a canter. Samantha grasped her seat as the green path was
even bumpier than the highways.

Her words were understandably shaky. “What’s happening?”

“If Webb has Phillip, then he knows approximately where we
make landfall and has alerted the nearest preventative station. The riding
officers would have enlisted the assistance of several dragoons.” Their ears
were met with the echo of a gun discharging.

“What do we do?”

“If we’re lucky, the dragoons are vastly outnumbered.” The
sounds of fighting grew louder as they caught up to the caravan of carts. “When
I say to, get into the back of the cart and keep your head down.”

However, they would not meet the caravan. As though summoned
by his thoughts, Phillip stepped onto the path.

“Phillip,” Ryder yelled. He yanked back on the reins. For a
moment, his mind could not form a clear thought as relief swamped him. Phillip
was unharmed, though he appeared quite exhausted. Why was he here?

Webb appeared several feet behind Phillip with a pistol in
hand. Samantha gripped Ryder’s arm.

“I’m sorry,” Phillip said.

The customs officer sneered. “At long last, justice shall be
served. Try to talk your way out of this one.”

“You accosted my courier and kidnapped my brother. What
happened to your morality, Webb? Did you leave it in Le Havre with that French
prostitute?”

Webb’s eyes bulged. “Y-you…”

“And now? You’ll confiscate the cargo and see us fined? What
satisfaction is there in that? What reward? The contents of our cart alone
would make you a much richer man.”

Webb only grew smug at Ryder’s attempt at bribery. He
addressed Samantha without looking at her. “I had hoped not to see you, Miss
Reed, but fate has decided that you shall witness your lover hanged.”

Samantha gasped. “No! Please, Mr. Webb, I beg you.”

“What authority do you have to pass judgment and what cause
allows you to render such a punishment? The act of oblivion allows for—”

“We are past judgments, Mr. West, and I care not for the
gentle treatment of smugglers when it best suits the crown. You are caught and
your guilt cannot be questioned. If you resist, I shall be forced to shoot Miss
Reed.” Webb’s pistol swung to point at Samantha.

Her voice was sorrowful. “You said you’d never direct that
at me, Mr. Webb.”

The man ignored her. “Come down from there.”

Ryder descended and turned to help Samantha to the ground.
Her breaths were shallow and her fingers shook as she reached for his
outstretched hands. She met his eyes with more calm than he expected, but her
layer of control was thin. He kept her close. Webb flicked his gun toward the
trees. Phillip knew the way, it seemed, and led the pair of them deeper into the
woods. Webb followed several paces behind.

“Where is he taking us?” Ryder whispered.

Phillip’s voice was hard. “To our execution.”

“Be silent,” Webb said.

Samantha stopped when they spied a horse through the
trees—and the noose hanging from a branch above it. A sharp word from Webb and
Ryder had to pull her along. She shook her head.

“Ryder, don’t let him—”

“Be brave, my love.”

Ryder knew Webb would hang Phillip first and that Webb would
watch. Ryder could use the distraction to wrest away Webb’s pistol. Once the
revenue officer was dead or unconscious, Ryder would cut Phillip down,
hopefully before his brother choked to death.

“Stop,” Webb said. They stood a dozen paces from the horse.
Phillip’s face was pale. Webb gave them a wide berth as he walked around to the
horse’s head. “You.” He pointed his pistol at Phillip. “Mount the horse.”

His brother set his jaw and walked to the horse. Once he was
seated, Webb swung his pistol back to Samantha. “Approach me, Miss Reed. Stop
when I say and turn around.”

Ryder’s heart stopped. If she were between him and Webb, she
would be shot before he could disarm Webb.

“Now, Miss Reed.” Samantha pulled from Ryder’s grasp and
walked to Webb. He stopped her halfway and she reluctantly put her back to him.
If he aimed to shoot her, she wouldn’t know.

Webb then ordered Phillip to drape the noose around his neck
and tighten the knot. His brother shook. His wild eyes looked to Ryder for a
miracle.

Samantha’s voice reached him. “Ryder, he might not shoot—”

“I will if I must. Be silent.” Webb took hold of the bridle.
Phillip was panting.

“Maybe this is why I’m here, to give you this chance.”

“Be silent!”

“The locket could—”

It all happened at once. A gunshot thundered. The horse
fled. Samantha screamed.

Fear like he had never known lanced through him.

Sam was so sure she had been shot—again—but she felt no pain
and whirled around. Webb hit the ground face first. Wetness spread across the
back of his brown coat. He gave a stifled moan.

Beyond his prone body was a very thin, old man with a
smoking pistol. In the waist of his breeches was an identical pistol to the one
he held. In his other hand was a lace kerchief. Part of his mouth was smeared
with blood.

Ryder ran toward her.

“I’m fine. I’m okay! Help Phillip,” she pleaded. Ryder pivoted
and ran to his brother. He ducked under Phillip’s frantically kicking legs and
boosted him on his shoulders to relieve the weight on his brother’s neck.

The shooter was undoubtedly William West, Phillip and
Ryder’s father. He was breathing with difficulty, but his eyes were cold and
determined as he walked to Webb. The revenue officer was still breathing, but
he didn’t resist when William took the pistol from his slack hand. Phillip
managed to pull his head from the noose and Ryder set him down.

A coughing fit took William for a moment, and he wiped at
the fresh blood on his lips. Even if he weren’t afflicted with tuberculosis,
the fallout would kill him if he didn’t get inside soon. William put a boot to
Webb’s arm and pushed him to his side. Webb shouted with pain.

“I’ll not let you kill my only son.” William’s words were
wet as he spoke through the blood in his throat. He coughed again and his words
became clearer. “I hoped you would hang Ryder first. How tragic it would have
been to know you hanged your own child.”

“What?” Webb grunted.

“She hid the timing of her pregnancy well. Had she not
revealed it was your son she had birthed, I might never have known and she
might still be alive.”

Tears of pain and shock filled Webb’s eyes. “Elaine…” He
struggled to look at Ryder, who was silent and frozen. Webb struggled to
breathe. “I didn’t know. The last time I saw her, I…”

Sam couldn’t stay silent. “Why didn’t you marry her?”

Webb closed his eyes. His cheeks were wet. “Her family
didn’t approve of a butcher’s son. Said they’d disinherit her.”

“But she didn’t care about that.” Sam thought her heart
would break. How cruel it was that two people who loved each other were reduced
to how advantageous the match was for their families.

“She…cried when I told her I didn’t want her. It was a lie.”

Phillip walked to his father. “How could you? She was
nothing but kind to me.”

William looked at him with disgust. “Shut up, boy. She
wasn’t your mother, and neither is he your brother. Where’s your loyalty?
I’m
your family!”

Ryder finally spoke. “You’re a monster.” His voice was
coarse. His face was a mask of rage and pain. “You murdered my mother, hid me
from my father and made me think your anger was my fault.”