Chapter Thirty-Four
BROOKE SCREAMED AS THE shoreline raced toward them or, rather, they raced toward it. They were going to crash!
Dominic yelled, “Hold tight to the rail!”
If Brooke hadn’t grabbed it right then and crouched down, she might have tumbled off the boat when it hit the beach. Shaking, she stood up carefully and looked over the side. The rocky shore was less than two feet from the rail. He’d deliberately beached his boat! Dominic’s arm was suddenly around her waist as he swung her over the rail to the ground.
“My valise!” she yelled up at him.
A moment later he jumped off the boat with both their bags in one hand and grabbed her hand with the other. “Run!” he yelled without explaining. She was starting to get quite indignant over his bizarre, reckless behavior.
“Won’t your boat be stuck now?” she gasped out as she tried to keep up with him.
“I’ll worry about that if it survives.”
“Survives what?”
He didn’t answer, he just kept running inland, dragging her with him. He didn’t stop until they reached a huge tree with a wide trunk. She was glaring at him when a thunderous explosion rent the air.
She saw Dominic cringe. That’s when she realized what had happened. “Was your boat just blown up? By our own navy!?”
“They must have spotted a blockade runner and chased them, then thought we were them. I can’t think of any other damned reason for what just happened.”
“But you knew they were going to fire at us, didn’t you?”
“This is wartime. If the navy had reason to suspect we were French, they wouldn’t hesitate. But, no, I didn’t think they would actually blow up my damned boat. I just wasn’t going to risk it with you on board.”
Her brow rose only slightly, but she couldn’t resist smiling. He’d beached his boat for her? But he’d lost it, too, and that was a disastrous turn of events for both of them.
“You blowing up the countryside, mate?” a male voice called.
The man walking toward them was young, short, and wearing a wide grin and a tattered jacket that had once been fine. Brooke wondered if it was a donation from some lord who lived nearby. Dominic appeared glad to see the man. She supposed he could at least tell them where they were if Dominic didn’t know. But he probably did because he’d made this trip so many times.
“No, that was an overzealous warship of ours,” Dominic was saying.
“Thought you were a Frenchy, did they?” The man chuckled.
“And you are?”
“Just investigating the noise. My village is nearby if you’d like to follow me to it.”
“Certainly. I’m interested in acquiring two horses.”
“We’ve got mounts, fast ones, too, but you’ll be needing to discuss that with Rory. All decisions are ’is to make.” But then four more men and a boy came running through the trees toward them, and the man complained, “I got this under control, Rory, all peaceable-like. I was bringing them to you.”
That didn’t get the newcomers to lower the weapons they were holding. Even the boy was holding a pistol. Dominic immediately shoved Brooke behind him. She still peeked around his upper arm.
The other villagers didn’t look at all friendly. Rory was the tallest among them, at least that was whom the first man was staring at. He was ferocious-looking, possibly because one of his thick black brows was split right in half by an ugly scar. Another long scar ran across one of his cheeks. He might have been handsome before someone took a blade to his face. Then she noticed another scar, a wide one that circled his neck. It looked like a rope scar from a noose. He must have been nearly hanged. That frightened Brooke the most. Only serious crimes warranted a noose. . . .
“What was the noise?” he demanded.
“ ’Is lordship’s boat got blown out of the water.”
Rory’s brow rose, the good one, as he looked Dominic over with light gray eyes. They were nearly the same height. Dominic was more muscular, but the man who’d somehow escaped a death sentence was heavier and barrel-chested. But to be the head of the villagers—or whoever they were—he wasn’t that old, maybe nearing thirty.
“Are you titled, or just a fancy dresser?” he asked Dominic.
“Titled, not that it’s relevant to the situation.”
“Oh, but it is.”
Brooke felt the muscles in Dominic’s arm flex against her cheek; in fact, his whole body tensed. She had a feeling his eyes had just gone feral, too. He was preparing for battle, and that terrified her, considering that five weapons were still pointed right at him.
But she was amazed by his temperate tone when he said, “I would suggest you lower your weapons. We mean you no harm.”
Rory shrugged. “Can’t say the same. It’s too bad about the boat, though. It would’ve fetched a pretty price. But come along. You’ll get to have your say before I decide whether you live or die.”
Dominic didn’t budge. “I’d like to hear more about your village before I decide whether to accept your invitation.”
That caused a few snickers, but Rory had already walked off, assuming they would follow. Someone called after him, “ ’E ain’t moving, Rory.”
Rory glanced back. “Shoot the female in the foot if they aren’t walking in front of you in two seconds.”
“Do you really want to die today?” Dominic said in a quiet, malevolent tone.
“Oh, ho!” Rory laughed. “And now I have my leverage—the woman. Good of you to volunteer that, mate. But do come along. We’ll have a drink and talk before anyone gets hurt, and we’ll see if you have something to bargain with.”
Dominic put his arm around Brooke and held her tightly to his side before he started walking.
“They’re some sort of criminals, aren’t they?” she whispered. “This close to shore, maybe smugglers?”
“Without a ship? More likely highwaymen hiding in the woods if they have ‘fast’ horses—unless that was a lie.”
“But it sounded like they’ll dicker for our release.”
“For promises? Not likely.”
“Don’t underestimate the power of a titled lord. That Rory fellow probably knows if you give your word, you’ll honor it.”
She was trying to be optimistic to tamp down her fear, but it didn’t work. Dominic wasn’t armed. If he tried to fight their way out of this, he was going to get shot, repeatedly, and he was a big target. It was all well and good that he’d threatened to kill their captors, but if he died . . .