Chance caught the rope and was unceremoniously hauled over the side, to collapse gasping like a landed fish on the bottom boards. The Count snapped something at the rowers and they began to turn the boat.
‘They’ve got Alessa, tricked her on board without the children,’ he managed to croak.
‘I know, the boy told me. You want to get her back?’ The Count tossed him a piece of canvas. ‘Here, wrap that round your shoulders.’
‘Of course I want to get her back, damn it!’
‘Right. We take my ship. It is faster than that thing she’s on—fat-bottomed trader.’ He spat over the side and made a remark in Albanian to the rowers, who cackled.
‘You’ll do that?’ Chance began to shiver and dragged the canvas tighter.
‘But of course. It is not a nice thing to do, to trick a young lady like that. And it will be amusing, to have something to chase.’ His smile was feline as they bumped against the harbour wall.
Demetri was pacing frantically up and down, his grubby cheeks tracked with tears, his face twisted with distress.
‘Right, now then.’ The Count clambered ashore and caught Demetri by the shoulders. ‘You, boy, go back to the good woman who looks after you and tell her what has happened: your Alessa has been kidnapped and we go to rescue her. No! Do not use that face with me—who looks after your sister if you come with us? You, my friend, you go and get dry clothes, a valise, your weapons, and come back to the Venetian harbour as soon as may be. And then we hunt.’ And this time the smile was not that of a cat—all Chance could think of were wolves.
Chance managed to get Demetri back to Kate, despite his protests. ‘The bastards,’ she swore, all pretence at gentility cast aside. ‘Don’t you worry none, my lord, I’ll look after the children until you get her back. And stop all this nonsense and give her a damn good kissing when you get her,’ she yelled at him as he ran, dripping still, down the stairs.
The stable yard at the Residency was in a state of recrimination and confusion when he arrived back and slid off the horse. ‘My lord! Where did you find the animal? It is his Excellency’s best hunter—that wretched boy stole it, but I have the word out for him to be apprehended.’ The head groom was almost beside himself.
‘The boy only borrowed it in order to reach me in an emergency. See to it he is not punished. Have someone ready to drive me down to the harbour in a gig in fifteen minutes.’
Leaving the grooms gaping after him, Chance entered the Residency at a run, taking the stairs two at a time. On the landing he almost knocked Lady Trevick off her feet. She gave a small scream, then stepped back to look at him as he stood there dripping on her polished floorboards. ‘Lord Blakeney! What has happened? Has there been a boating accident?’
‘Did you know Lady Blackstone has sailed, taking Alessa with her, Lady Trevick?’ he demanded.
‘Why, yes. I was so sorry not to be able to say goodbye properly to Miss Meredith. Apparently Lady Blackstone’s husband is most anxious for her early return and the repairs to the ship…’
‘She tricked Alessa aboard and has sailed without the children because she did
not want to take them, and Alessa refused to leave without them.’
‘What! But why would she not take them? From what I have seen of them, they are delightful children.’
‘She is afraid of scandal,’ Chance said grimly. ‘She thinks people will believe them to be Alessa’s own offspring.’
‘What nonsense!’ Lady Trevick shook her head in exasperation. ‘I will give her scandal, foolish woman! Anyone can see the ages do not work out, and neither child bears the slightest resemblance to Alessa. I will write to my sister in London—Honoria Blackstone will find the true story has reached home long before she does.’
‘Alessa would not wish her family to be exposed to ill will,’ Chance cautioned.
‘Of course not. I will say nothing of Honoria’s idiocy, simply that Alessa has so bravely brought up two charming orphans. Such a pretty story. In fact, her whole tale is so romantic, do you not think?’
‘It is turning into a positively Gothick novel,’ Chance said with a grim smile. ‘Ma’am, I have no idea when I will get back, and I must change now.’ He was conscious of the spreading pool of water around his feet and the clammy clothes clinging to him.
‘It is no matter when you return. Just make sure you bring her with you when you do…’ she paused as he padded wetly into his room ‘…and give her a kiss—with my love, of course.’
Chapter Eighteen
The Count’s ship was ready when Chance reached it. He tossed a valise on to the deck as he came up the gangplank, his other hand full of his box of pistols and his sword. Zagrede paused long enough to clap him on the shoulder, then began shouting orders. Within minutes they were slipping out of the harbour and rounding the point of the Old Fort.
‘You are very much in command,’ Chance commented, watching the Count giving orders to the helmsman. ‘Do you not have a sailing master?’
‘Oh, yes. A good man. But when I hunt, I like to lead.’He gestured to a seaman and snapped an order. ‘This man will show you your cabin.’
Chance ducked below, surprised at the comfort, almost elegance, of the fittings. The ship was panelled in fine woods, brass gleamed. The cabin he was shown to had a fine coverlet on the bunk and gimballed lights over a fixed desk. He changed rapidly into the clothes he had worn on the long voyage through the Mediterranean, and which he had used when his leg was injured. He left his feet bare to grip on the deck and picked up his sword consideringly.
No, too melodramatic, for heaven’s sake. They would simply overhaul the merchantman, explain that the lady was being taken against her will and remove Alessa in a civilised manner. This was hardly the Spanish Main. He grinned in self-mockery at the thought of swinging on to the deck with a boarding party, cutlass between his teeth, then tossed the sword back on the bunk and made his way back up the companionway to the deck.