Why do you ask?”
Through the smoky air, Drex leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper.
“Because if I can’t hold a scandal over his head, I can hold his granddaughter hostage. When he releases my brother, I’ll let the girl go.”
“Have you gone mad?” Greg’s brown eyes grew impossibly wide. “You cannot mean to add abduction to your crimes. You’re wanted for espionage, thievery, illegal trade, and if they catch you, you can tack on treason, too.
Perhaps it’s time to quit.”
“Quit? Not yet. This is my last chance to make the Admiralty meet my demands. All I have to do is exploit Manchester’s weakness, his granddaughter.” Sitting back, Drex sipped his ale. “After that, I’ll gladly retire the Black Dragon and leave my criminal life.”
“That is absurd!” Greg insisted, tossing his hands up in emphasis. “You cannot kidnap the girl.”
Drex smiled, his grin deceptively pleasant. “Of course I can…with your help.”
“Oh, no.” Greg shook his head adamantly. “Absolutely not. You saved my life once, and though we’ve been friends for ten years, I am not willing to dig myself a grave for you. I’ve already arranged for you to meet an arms dealer and secured papers for you to dock here in London. Nor did I mind spying on Manchester, but I won’t assist you in anything this devious. You’ll ruin her for polite society and any sort of marriage.”
“If I don’t, and Ryan is still alive, he will die and Rory will grow up without a father, as Ryan and I did. I can’t break my promise to Chantal.” Dragging in a
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The Lady and the Dragon
deep breath, Drex reached for his mug and offered, “Look, I’ll make it easy for you. You know her, right?”
“Yes, through Manchester, of course. And were she to disappear, she could—”
“I’ll make certain she can’t point the finger at you,” Drex assured. “Can you think of a social event where you plan to see her?”
“Manchester has decided to cut her season short, which can only mean she has done something beyond the pale, and will send her to a ladies’ school in Switzerland.”
“A ladies’ school?”
Greg smiled. “I told you, she is quite a hellion. Circumspect is the last word anyone would use to describe her behavior.”
Drex clenched his fists anxiously. “When does she leave?”
“Next week.”
“Does Manchester have any upcoming social engagements she might attend?”
Greg paused. “Tomorrow night. His political crony, Lord Hartford, will host a ball. But—”
“Perfect. Tomorrow night it is.”
“Drex, no. You will undoubtedly scare the poor girl. Lady Christina is high-spirited, I grant you, but far too sheltered for your—”
“I promise, I’ll be gentle.” Drex smiled mischievously.
Greg snorted in disbelief. “And I’m Henry the Eighth.”
“I won’t touch the girl.”
“That is irrelevant. Everyone will believe you did.”
“Lady Christina and whichever husband Manchester chooses for her will know the truth.”
A long sigh signaled Greg’s defeat. “I let you talk me into the most outrageous things.” He turned and shouted, “Another ale!”
* * *
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Shelley Bradley
The short, gruff man tossed a scowl over his shoulder. “When did ye say you made this appointment with the cap’n?”
“Several days ago,” Christina answered, calling on the acting skills she’d last used two nights past when she made her bow on the London stage.
Beneath her cloak, she adjusted the tight collar of her carriage dress and pulled on the bishop sleeves clutching her wrists.
“And it’s personal, ye say?” the man prompted, frowning.
“Quite.”
He shrugged. “Watch yer step,” he advised from the dark bowels of the companionway. “It’s hard to see these here footholds when the sun’s goin’
down.”
Christina held in a sigh of frustration. Clearly, this man did not understand the urgency of her situation. In his defense, no one had ever threatened him with Swiss finishing school, where girls literally disappeared from polite society for years. She shuddered. He, a free-roaming sailor, had never been denied the opportunity to experience life. And she would not allow her grandparents to prevent her from experiencing hers. Aunt Mary awaited in the Bahamas and had offered to teach Christina all about her business.
The odd little man glanced over his shoulder. Anxiously, she gestured for him to go ahead. “Go on. I’m following.”
He trudged on, mumbling incoherently.
She continued to trail the narrow-backed man down the cramped companionway, her nose wrinkling from the stench of the Thames that permeated the ship’s damp wood.
As she’d paid a lad working the docks to discover, this ship was the only one leaving for Grand Bahama. She’d hidden since last night in a longboat beneath a greasy tarp slathered in animal fat and vowed to sail with this tub.
Although Grandfather would probably never think to search for her among London’s seedy docks aboard a merchant ship bound for the Bahamas, she knew better than to underestimate him by waiting for a more optimal means of escape.
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The Lady and the Dragon
Christina’s shipboard guide halted at the end of a hallway, bringing her out of her reverie and back to the present. He knocked on the door before him.
“Who is it?” a deep voice, sharp with impatience, barked from behind the closed door.
His tone pierced Christina with a needle of doubt. Would he refuse her?
Pulling the collar of her cloak up to cover cold ears, she lifted her chin. She couldn’t let him turn her away. Her future depended on convincing the captain to accept her as a passenger. Otherwise, years of a cold Swiss castle’s walls awaited. All because she’d spent a few trifling hours acting on a London stage!
“Cap’n, it’s me, Hancock.”
“I figured as much. What is it?”
“There’s a woman here. Says she’s got business with ye.”
“If I’d wanted a woman’s business, I would have had one last night.”
Christina gasped. The man had intimated she was a—
“Not that type of woman, Cap’n.” Hancock cleared his throat. “A lady.”
“That variety of female I have no use for,” he said in a hard-edged tone. “Get her ashore now. We sail within the hour.”
His words plummeted to the bottom of her stomach, along with her heart.
She had to persuade him, had to stay on board. If she failed, her grandfather would ensure she surrendered her freedom indefinitely and never saw Aunt Mary again.
Hancock nodded. “Aye, aye, Cap’n.”
He faced her, his back pushed against the door, as if looking to add mettle to his spine. His puffy, wind-worn face clearly bore reluctance. “Ye heard the cap’n, miss.”
Reining in her panic, Christina stole a glance at the warped wooden door.
He didn’t have time for her? Well, she’d insist that he make time.
A plan forming, Christina nodded tragically, eyes cast downward. “I understand.”
Hancock frowned suspiciously.
Ignoring that, Christina stepped aside. “Please, lead the way. It’s so dark, I shall certainly trip without your help.”
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Shelley Bradley
Hancock shrugged, then took the lead. “Follow me.”
She smiled before he turned to the ladder-like stairs.
Hancock stepped forward; Christina drew in a quick breath and whirled to face the captain’s door, white-gloved fingers clutching her valise. She clasped the cold latch and lifted. The door opened with a quiet click. She dashed inside.
The captain’s naked back, golden and muscle-hardened, filled her vision.