The Rogue's Surrender (The Nelson's Tea Series Book 3) (36 page)

“Kill her.” Roche impaled Eddie with his anger. “Or I will do it myself.”

A spark of distress glinted in Eddie’s eyes as he stormed toward Mercy. “I had everything under control. All you had to do was bite your tongue. Father should have never encouraged you to put your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“How dare you speak of
Papá
! Because of you, he’s probably dead.”

“Be quiet. I’m trying to save your life, you ungrateful chit.”

Eddie whipped his head back to Roche. “Our agreement was to use her to get the gold and then leave her behind.”

“I’ve changed my mind.” Roche’s eyes bulged out of his head. “Move aside.”

“Killing her changes nothing,” Eddie complained.

“It will bring me great satisfaction,” Roche shouted, spittle flying from his mouth. “I want the pleasure of seeing her blood flow. Her death will keep Seaton from following us.”

Roche didn’t know Garrick as well as he thought.
If
Garrick loved her, nothing would stop him from ripping off Roche’s head with his bare hands.

“We don’t have time to waste,
almirante
. Mercedes raised the alarm. If we want to live long enough to enjoy what we’ve come for, we must move now.”

Roche raised a pistol, aiming it at Eddie.

Oh God, no!
Mercy clawed at Eddie’s back. “Do not do this.”

The admiral laughed. “I’m done making deals. Your brother is good at negotiating.
I
am not.”

Eddie tensed.

Roche would kill her. Eddie knew it. She knew it.

She beat on Eddie’s back to knock sense into him. “Why don’t you move? Let him kill
me
!”

Her death and the loss of the
Priory
ensured Roche’s downfall. The idea that Roche wouldn’t escape his sins filled her with contentment. He’d stolen everything away from her. Her childhood, her parents, the hope she’d had that Eddie would live a better life. Eddie’s bitter betrayal stripped everything she had left, leaving her nothing to fight for — except Garrick — and assurances her death would spawn revenge.

“I have nothing left to live for. Move, Eddie.”

He didn’t budge. “No matter what I have done, I will not condone this. I will not allow him to kill you in cold-blood.”

Roche began to laugh. “Then what choice do I have, eh?”

Bang!

Garrick and his
brothers slinked into the Pennington Street Warehouse on Smithfield and Thomas More, systemically working their way through the two-storied building and stacked provisions of tobacco, wool, rice, wine, brandy, fruit, sugar, cocoa, coffee and nuts, acclimating themselves to the interior’s cramped length.

Voices could be heard from somewhere within.

Garrick nodded to Rigby, giving him the silent order to break away from the group. His brother pivoted on his heel, stealthily working his way to the right perimeter, disappearing behind stacked cargo.

He turned left and nodded to Max who branched off next, weaving his way through several bales of wool.

James altered direction, slyly deviating to the left side of the warehouse, following closely behind Max.

Henry followed Garrick, drawing Garrick’s stern indignation. “Stay here and guard the door.”

“Damn me, if I do.” Henry pinched his mouth and placed his hand over the hilt of his sword. “You need eyes in the back of your head, and since you’re only blessed with one… you need me.”

Christ, I don’t need to be reminded that I’m half blind at a time like this.

Garrick contemplated arguing with Henry. But his brother-in-law was right. “If anything happened to you, I’d—”

“I may be married to your sister but I am not a capon.” Henry’s blue eyes flared with an indignation Garrick knew all too well.

“You married my sister. You can’t be a eunuch.”

That didn’t sway him. “You owe me.”

Those three words hammered the final spike into Garrick’s hide.

He owed Henry his life. No one else had delivered Garrick’s cartel or concocted a rescue that included his own sister’s disguise. Henry had moved heaven and earth to save him and Garrick owed Henry this chance to prove himself viable again
.

“All right,” he said, caving in. “But keep to my back. If my sister becomes a widow today, I’ll be joining you in the grave. And in case you aren’t aware, I prefer being topside.”

Henry saluted Garrick. “Just like old times.”

Ting. Plunk.

Activity in the warehouse drew their attention.

“They found the gold.” Garrick pointed to Keane, gestured to his own eye then flattened his palm, arrowing his finger to the entrance they’d already moved through.

Keane shook his head.

Garrick narrowed his stare and nodded forcefully. If Henry meant to help him, Garrick needed Keane to guard the entrance to the street, a post he habitually assigned his youngest brother, knowing the boy hated being coddled with every fiber of his being. Keane was indispensable. His architectural genius was the mainstay of Seaton shipping. Their enterprise couldn’t function without his expertise.

Keane nodded, and without expressing any anger, disappeared.

Garrick trained his attention back on the warehouse.

Henry shifted his weight to counter balance issues he experienced as they stopped momentarily to survey the stacked cargo waiting to be brought to the gauging ground. “If it wasn’t for my crew, Roche would have taken over your ship.”

“You were wise to put a watch on the
Priory
.”

“Damn near lost three men.”

How many more would they lose? Randall. Now… “Mercy.” Her name ground out of his throat like a man parched for thirst. “He plans to take everything from me, Henry, including the woman I love.”

Clank.

“Have you told her how you feel?”

Wood skittered to the floorboards mere feet away. A brown-clad man darted out from a stack of tobacco. Garrick pulled out his sword too late to ward off the man’s impending blow, the steel pinging into the eerie silence like a death knell.

“Look out.” Henry pulled Garrick back.

Henry’s body then shifted and a flash of silver sailed into the air imbedding into the worker’s chest. Their attacker seized then collapsed.

Garrick glanced over his shoulder, filled with relief.

“Thank me later.” Henry grinned, helping Garrick regain his footing. “My wife will kill me if I let anything happen to you.”

Grateful for Henry’s quick reflexes, Garrick nodded, preferring not to waste time when Mercy’s life hung by a thread. Heart pounding in his ears, he breathed through his mouth and out through his nose, pressing forward, thanking Henry under his breath for protecting his blindside. Something Mercy had done ever since he’d met her.

She’d told him she loved him. Would she ever care as deeply for him as Adele did for Henry? Or he did for her? He would definitely count himself richer that day.

Determined more than ever to get to Mercy, Garrick sprinted behind barrels of rum, slinked out into the open, and then repeated the process, all the while combating fear that he might be too late.

Fleming’s position in the House of Lords allowed certain privileges. There was no way of knowing how extensive his Boney sympathizing network had become or how many men Roche had employed to protect him. Pennington Street Warehouse covered one thousand feet of land. The brick building with stone plinths and rustications had been built to service the new London docks.

Another man jumped into his path, gun at the ready. The guard squeezed the pistol’s trigger. Nothing happened. The barrel jammed. Garrick narrowed the space between them, dispatching the man in short order with a violent blow to the head.

Clonk. Bang.

As his attacker fell motionless to the floor, somewhere to his right a skirmish unfolded then silence. Rigby popped his head up and gave Garrick a nod.

Garrick placed a finger over his mouth then gestured toward the back of the warehouse, urging Rigby to make less noise.

I’m going to make Roche pay for killing Randall. And if he’s hurt Mercy, he’ll pray for a swift death. He won’t get it.

He
was Mercy’s home now. And he was struck by the brutally clear realization that she’d been his true heading since the first moment he’d seen her stepping out of her father’s carriage.

Devil damn me, am I too late?
Would he ever get the chance to tell her how much he loved her?

Bloody hell, he’d wasted what little time he’d had. Why, she’d practically thrown herself into his arms in Percy’s study. What kind of a martyr was he, declining love on the grounds that he didn’t deserve Mercy, that she could find someone better? He’d seen better men at the ball and they didn’t measure up. No one would ever be good enough for his Spanish
señorita
.

Voices battled back and forth. The argument escalated.

Garrick and Henry dropped to the ground, easing forward slowly to make out the conversation. When they heard a deafening gunshot followed by a woman’s scream, Garrick bolted into action.

Henry grabbed his arm, yanking him back. “It could be a trap.”

“I have to go. If Roche has hurt her I’ll tear him apart with my own hands.” Garrick sprang up from his crouched position near the floor.

“Garrick. Wait!”

He lost composure, running, weaving in and out of provisions, tack, canvas, and wood, fighting anyone who stood in his way, until he saw Mercy slumped on the ground, sobbing violently over a motionless body.

She cried out Eddie’s name, and her anguish informed him her brother was dead.

Pain for her loss, and the fear that he might yet lose
her
, gripped his heart so fully he knew the emotional impairment worked against him. But he made no effort to conceal himself as he strode into the open, sword in hand. He wanted to be seen, to make sure Roche knew the odds had shifted against him.

Roche turned, his cold stare set in a hardened mask. “Seaton!”

Somehow, in her agony, Mercy heard his name. She instantly reacted, reaching into her boot as Roche attempted to move toward her and use her against Garrick.

Roche reached her in two quick strides and yanked her up by her hair. “Is this the treasure you’ve come for?”

“Let the
señorita
go.”

“Or have you simply come for the gold?” Roche burst into laughter, pulling Mercy along with him as he advanced toward Garrick. “I suggest we find out which is true.”

Mercy moved then, twisting in Roche’s arms with the speed and grace of a cat. Before she freed herself, she sliced Roche’s face from cheekbone to chin.

“Vous chienne!
” He hit Mercy across the face, knocking her to the ground. She caught herself on her elbows as Roche whipped around to face Garrick.

Fury consumed Garrick.
I’ll kill him for calling Mercy a bitch!

Roche clasped his bleeding face. “Don’t even think of rescuing your little whore this time.”

Mercy glared at Roche’s back, her stare condemning the man to hell. She wiped her bloody, swelling lip, wincing as she tested the purplish bruise discoloring her jaw with the back of her hand.

Garrick snapped. Anger churned inside him, twisting into a frenzy the likes of which he’d never known. Crueler than Esmeralda’s haunting sightless eyes, weeks of torture, the gruesome and costly loss of his sight, or the heartless stares of insensitive strangers.

“Think before you act, my friend,” Henry warned at his back.

Stupidity had cost him once. Not again. “I’ve got this.”

He cut away from Henry, moving automatically, adjusting his lengthy strides to shorten the space between himself and Roche.

“
I
am going to crush
you
.” He raised his sword to strike.

Roche panicked, throwing the discharged pistol at Garrick.

Garrick dodged the gun and circled Roche as whistles, signals from his brothers, broke out around him. Their message was clear as one by one his brothers stepped out into the open. Max and Rigby arrived empty handed, taking up positions to Garrick’s left and right. James arrived holding a knife at one remaining henchmen’s throat. Husam, Adele’s Moroccan bodyguard, appeared from the shadows with two men grasped in a chokehold.

“You’ve got nowhere to run now, Roche.”

“
Impossible!
” Roche unsheathed his sword, resolved to fight to the death. “We shall see who is the greater swordsman,
Capitán.
Me or you.”

No matter what Roche did, he wasn’t going to leave the building. One way or another, justice would be served… for Mercy’s sake.

Garrick had survived gale force winds, attacks at sea, revenue officers, and the royal navy. He was the grandson of Zephaniah Job. He was Viscount Seaton, his father’s oldest son, heir to the Earl of Pendrim, a man who’d outlasted the smuggling business and built a hard-won legacy for his sons, a stout man who’d schooled Garrick and his brothers, preparing them for every adversity. That example was what had led Admiral Nelson to seek his father’s help protecting England’s shores.

And yet Garrick’s education, preparation, patience, and tactical instincts paled in comparison to the tempest swirling inside him, blazing a trailing inferno through his veins. Roche had killed Randall and Eddie in cold blood. He would have killed Mercy, if Garrick and his brothers hadn’t arrived in time. He would kill Mercy if Garrick didn’t kill Roche first.

I cannot fail Mercy now! Not when she doesn’t even know the depth of my feelings or the love I feel for her, body and soul.

He continued circling Roche and growled low in his throat. “You killed Damien Randall.”

“I see you got my message.”

“And what message is it you wanted to convey by killing
Capitán
Vasquez?”

“Only the pleasure of letting you know the girl’s brother was in league with us.”

“Eddie didn’t know what he was doing,” Mercy cried, struggling to rise off of the floor. “You did this! You corrupted Eddie’s mind.”

“Ha! You are a spy, and yet you know so little about men,
señorita
.”

“I understand enough to know that you stole my beloved brother from
me
!” As her anger mounted, crimson joined the gathering spectrum on her bruised face.

Henry moved quickly beside Mercy, enveloping her in his arms, retreating with her out of harm’s way. She latched on to his lapels, sobbing, shivering.

It was more than Garrick could stand.

“It gives me great pleasure to tell you that we laughed often at your expense,
señorita
.” Roche’s attempt to wear Mercy down, to make her feel powerless was a mistake that would cost him dearly. “The
Capitán
’s death is a terrible loss. The boy was easily manipulated. I admit I was aiming for the
señorita
, but Vasquez’s momentary display of chivalry annoyed me most grave.”

Mercy roused to life. She pushed Henry aside and attempted to dash toward Roche.

Garrick threw up his hand and warned Henry to get her under control. “Hold her back.”

Henry reached Mercy, enveloping her in his protective arms. “Steel accepts no prejudice.”