Luca shrugged. “The continent somewhere. The destination is unimportant for now, just getting away from whoever hired Dorrit is what matters. The police will find the bodies and go from there. Even if they know I killed him I’m not likely to be brought up on charges, given Dorrit’s reputation. And if they can identify the body of the second man it might give them an idea who sent them in the first place.”
“All right. What’re you going to do with the girl? You going back in there before we set sail?”
“Not if I can help it. She’s all trussed up for now, but she’s going to be furious when she wakes up, and I think we need to be well out to sea before I take the gag off.”
“Speaking of which, what put her out. Dorrit use chloroform? That’s not his lay.”
“I hit her.”
Billy looked at him in astonishment. “Jayzus,” he said with a whistle. “You really must love her.”
Luca stalked away.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Rufus sat back, considering the situation. Failure had never been an option. Parsons was dead—an inconvenience and nothing more. No, he’d been very helpful with the police when they’d come to inform him that his man’s body had been found in an alley off Water Street. He had no idea what the man had been doing—in fact, he’d dispensed with his services earlier that day for dishonesty. He must have tried something desperate.
No, he’d never mentioned a man named Dorrit. Did he know Captain Morgan—yes, he’d had dinner with him one evening with his dear friend, Miss Haviland, the solicitor’s daughter. He was certain Captain Morgan would be just as horrified at the carnage.
Captain Morgan had been a privateer? He’d had no idea! Well, perhaps horrified was too strong a word. And where was Captain Morgan at the moment? They didn’t know? Ah well, it didn’t matter. He was only curious. No one else was hurt, were they? None of the servants?
Ah, good news that they were all gone from the house. So what did the police suppose the men wanted? To rob the house? No, of course they could only guess.
And certainly he would inform the police if any new information came to his attention. After dismissing Parsons he’d discovered the man’s references had been forged. He wished he could help further, and if there was any way he could be of assistance they mustn’t hesitate to let him know.
Rufus waited until they left, still reclining in his chair with his cane clutched in one thin hand, looking wan and interesting. He had expressed all the right emotions—sorrow, concern, anger—and the slow-witted police of the dockside town had believed everything. He waited until the door closed behind them, sitting very still as he felt the rage sweep through him. That fury was a pure, powerful entity of its own, and it made him strong, stronger than mortal men. He was coming to realize he had a gift, a task to complete, a holy calling if you like, and each setback only made the eventual triumph sweeter.
He pushed out of the chair, and his weak leg faltered for a moment, then he straightened it. Nothing would hold him back, not the temporary frailty of his too-human body, not the stupidity of his hirelings, nor the bunglings of the police. And that a gypsy half-breed would dare to interfere…
Again the rage washed over him, filling him with power. He had no choice then. He would take care of it himself. First he would find out where she was, but he had little doubt she was with that Rom bastard. And he would kill them both if it was the last thing he did.
But it wouldn’t be. He still had the youngest, and he had complete faith in his own invincibility. He was on a mission, and lesser warriors had fallen along the way. He would finally have a chance to finish with the elder one as well—he couldn’t afford to leave anything to chance. And then Rufus Brown could safely disappear, and Rufus Griffiths could re-emerge, full of charm and conviviality. He would prevail, and all would fall before him.
They sailed with the midnight tide. Navigating the crowded harbor of Devonport was no easy task, but Billy could do it blindfolded, and Luca could hear pounding from down below, pounding he expected came from his unwilling guest. “I’ll leave you then,” Luca told his old friend. “It appears someone wants to see me. Come get me if I’m needed.”
Billy chuckled. “The day I can’t handle a ship like this is the day I give up the sea. Go see if you can calm the girl.”
Luca slid down the companionway as he heard the voices overhead, the men calling back and forth to each other as sails were unfurled and the boat rocked on its mooring with the weight of the anchor being pulled. The pounding from his cabin was thunderous, the walls shaking, and he wondered what she was using. He unlocked the door, carefully, in case she’d managed to get free of her bonds, but she was still on the bunk, gagged and trussed, slamming her feet against the wall in impotent fury.
He’d brought a lamp with him, and he turned it up before setting it onto its hook so it could swing freely with the rocking of the ship. She’d stopped kicking moments after she heard him come in, and as he approached the berth she somehow managed to squirm around and launch herself at him in frantic rage. He staggered back for a moment, catching her, and set her squirming, thrashing body back on the mattress. Her eyes were wild, and she tried to sc
ratch him with her bound hands, but he kept out of the way of those fingernails, holding her down against the bed.
It was then he realized it wasn’t anger in her dark blue eyes, it was terror. Her body was shaking with it, and her desperate struggles were born of fear, not justifiable outrage. Maddy, who wasn’t afraid of anything, not hired killers or pirate captains or vicious society women like his erstwhile fiancée. No, she was afraid of bats, but the only bats aboard his ship would be down in the hold along with the rats and whatever cargo Billy had managed to pick up.
He glanced around the ceiling, looking for intruders. “There are no bats here, my sweet,” he said calmly.
She shook her head, so fiercely he worried that she might hurt herself.
“I’m going to regret this,” he said with a sigh, reaching for her gag. “If you start screaming I’ll simply gag you again. So behave yourself.” He slipped the gag free from her mouth, and he could see it took all her formidable strength to keep from shrieking.
“I have to get off this boat,” she managed to choke out after a long, desperate struggle. Her voice was raspy, maybe from muffled screams; he could clearly see the fear coursing through her.
“Ship,” he corrected absently. “And you’re not going anywhere.”
“You don’t understand. I can’t be on a boat… ship. I can’t be on water.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. This ship is as solid as any I’ve ever sailed on. There’s no danger.”