The Scandalous Lady Sandford (Lost Ladies of London 3)

“She’s heading for the woods.” Fabian pointed to the path further along the lane. They broke into a sprint, splashing through puddles. Water squelched in Fabian’s boots. “No doubt she means to wait until we grow tired and leave.”

They turned the corner onto the bridle path. There was an hour until sunset, but the canopy of overhanging trees blocked out the light.

A feminine shriek caught their attention, and they spotted Ursula struggling to haul her booted foot out of the mud.

“There you are,” Fabian said, reaching her first. “Have you forgotten where the milestone is?”

Impatience got the

better of Vane. With a growl of frustration, he grabbed Ursula around the waist, tugged her out of the mud and threw her over his broad shoulder.

“Put me down,” she cried as she clutched the money bag so tightly her knuckles were white. “I got lost that’s all.”

“You can tell us the truth once we’re on the boat.” Fabian turned and headed back towards the lane. Vane kept a firm grip on Ursula despite sliding about in the mud and almost losing his balance.

“No! You can’t take me back to the island.” She kicked Vane, leaving mud splatters across his black coat. “I beg you. Keep the money, just let me go. You don’t know what he’ll do if he knows I betrayed him.”

“It’s a damn sight less than I’ll do to you if he’s harmed my sister.”

Once back at the rowboat, Vane dropped Ursula onto the wooden bench, snatched the bag of coins from her grasp and held her there while Fabian and Mackenzie pushed the vessel into the water and quickly climbed aboard.

When they were a mile from the shore, Vane released his grip on Ursula and took a turn at the oars. His muscles strained against his coat sleeves as he propelled them effortlessly through the water.

“If you ever have the urge to sail the seas, let me know,” Fabian said. “Good men are hard to find.”

Vane smirked. “I would rather eat my hat than sleep with a bunch of men for months on end.”

“Your rowing skills are second to none.” Fabian begrudged paying Vane a compliment.

“I make a point of mastering anything I put my hands to.”

“Indeed. At this rate, we’ll reach the island in record time.”

Ursula whimpered as her frantic gaze shot from the coastline to the blot of land in the distance. “Please. Take me back. I beg you. Don’t tell him what I did.”

“You’re in no position to ask for anything.” Fabian stared at her intently. “Tell me the truth. Does Doyle have my wife?”

Ursula fiddled with her fingers and struggled to sit still. “Doyle wants the treasure. Lady Ravenscroft stumbled on his secret hideaway when she sheltered from the storm.”

A string of curses escaped Fabian’s lips. “I swear I shall kill him this time.”

“You may have what’s left after I’ve finished,” Vane said.

“What about Mary?” Mackenzie’s croaky voice conveyed his unease.

“Doyle has Mary, too. The woman found him digging around the castle at night.” Panic infused her tone. She stared at the shrinking coastline. “I’ve told you what I know, now let me go.”

“Not until you take us to Lady Ravenscroft.” Fabian would banish Ursula from the island once he’d dealt with Doyle.

Without warning, Ursula came to her feet. The boat rocked and swayed from side to side. Vane and Mackenzie stopped rowing and waited for the vessel to settle.

“I can’t go back.” Ursula stared at the murky water, her eyes glazed as if lost in her reflection.

And then she jumped.

The splash covered them in spray.

“Good God!” Vane scoured the water, but she failed to surface. “Has she lost her mind?”