“His majesty will have gone below. He doesn’t like the cold. And even if my crew hears you, they won’t help.”
Georgiana didn’t doubt that. But Blade could threaten all he liked. This cowardly bastard wouldn’t shoot her. He wouldn’t dare, not when he’d have to explain it to Southampton.
Shaking with anger, too sickened to look at him, she resolutely faced the water again. “This isn’t the job your employer gave you, Mr. Blade. Now back away from me.”
“My job, missus, was to end when Lord Pinchpenny collected his gold. And that was to be four days ago, when we caught up to that old ship. But now collecting the gold is taking longer, and his majesty isn’t extending the pay, saying this is all one job. Not one of my crew is happy about it—and I’m looking for my bonus.”
And she was supposed to pay it? Seething, Georgiana cranked. “Then go ask Southampton for a hand and leave me be.”
After a short pause, Blade stepped back. Relief touched her for a brief second, then crumbled to horror. He’d moved away from her—and now stood next to the coil of Thom’s air hose, the toe of his boot resting on the line.
“Don’t you dare! I’ll kill you if you do!”
Blade regarded her with hard amusement. “It seems to me that your husband’s diving deeper than most men can. That he even told his lordship the dive was impossible. An accident wouldn’t be no surprise. And then there won’t be questions if you’re dead next. There’s no use for you if your man’s not alive, and if I didn’t do it here, his lordship would do it himself when we went back above. So give me your free hand, missus.”
The filthy disgusting coward. Georgiana glanced around her. There was nothing to protect herself with. And she didn’t dare leave the pump.
“Give me your hand, missus.”
Setting her jaw, she looked down at the water. No bubbles in sight yet. No Thom coming back up.
Blade’s boot pressed down, flattening the hose against the platform boards. The pump wheezed, jolting terror through her heart.
He would murder Thom.
Sick with rage and fear, Georgiana lifted her hand. Blade stepped off the hose, coming around behind her shoulder again. Hard fingers circling her wrist, he pressed the back of her gloved fist to the front of his trousers. Not demanding bare skin or her participation. He hadn’t wanted her touch. He’d just wanted to force her—and to win.
But only for now. Georgiana stared ahead, briefly imagining turning her hand around and crushing Blade’s organ through his trousers. She didn’t dare risk it, though, when he’d likely shoot her and step on the hose again or knock over the pump in his agony. It had to be decisive. She couldn’t allow him the opportunity to use his gun or react. So she watched the water, sending air to her husband and killing Blade a thousand times over in her head.
As she would in truth.
The moment he’d stepped on Thom’s air hose and forced her hand, Blade’s days had ended. In Skagen, or in any civilized land, she’d have had another recourse. Law and authority would have punished Blade for this. But not on the seas. Here, there would be no justice except what she took.
Blade believed she was helpless. That was the only reason a coward like him would have ever dared this. But Georgiana was just delaying her response until her husband was safe.
And she needed a weapon. Thom had knives in his arms, he’d said. But to prevent the other mercenaries and Southampton from assuming Blade’s death was an attack on the ship, it had to be done before the platform reached the top, and Thom would have to rip through his canvas suit to access the blades.
He needed that suit to dive for the submersible tonight, and a patched one wouldn’t be as safe. A knife also ran the danger of spilling blood into the water.
Something blunt, instead.
Would she need to fear Southampton’s retaliation? Probably not. He’d said himself that any of the other mercenaries could have fulfilled Blade’s duties. Southampton wouldn’t do anything to risk losing the gold. He’d kill her and Thom if they jeopardized its recovery—and he’d kill them after he received the coins. But for Blade? Georgiana didn’t think so.
Beside her, Blade grunted. Georgiana yanked her hand away. Abandoning the pump for the space of a second, she ripped off her glove and tossed it into the water.
Laughing, Blade stooped to her ear. “That was good, missus. Now if your husband doesn’t bring up the gold this time, he’ll be going down again. And if you want him to suck on a hose when he does, then you’ll suck on mine.”
Sour revulsion burned in her throat. Her face froze into a mask of hate, darker and colder than any she’d ever known. She did not wonder anymore at what Thom had feared in himself when the tower had come down. It must have been like the rage she felt now—all-consuming, such fury that only love and Thom’s very life prevented her from rising up and destroying the man behind her, without fear of his gun or her own death or any other pain.
But this was not an animal’s rage. It was a rightful rage, and purely human.
It filled her to the brim, a furnace that pistoned her aching arm around and around, that fired hotter with each bellowing breath she took. She waited, kneeling and stiff, her body like iron, her eyes fixed on the water.
An hour passed. Bubbles popped on the surface. Then movement under the sea. Relief and joy broke through at the same time Thom did, water streaming around the brass dome. He hauled himself up the tether cable and over the platform, the air hose in a giant coil at his side—he must have been gathering it during his slow ascent. He dropped from the tether, landing with a heavy thud that rocked the platform and rattled the chains.
Georgiana flew to him, her fingers working at the thumbnuts that fastened the dome to the suit. His glass plate had already fogged again. She helped him lift the heavy helmet and at her first sight of his face, fear made her cry out.
“Thom!” Bloodshot, his eyes had more red than white. His skin was pale, and sweat plastered his thick hair to his head. “Oh, dear God. How are you feeling?”
“All right. Only a few rough minutes.” Tiredly, he shook his head. “But I think it’ll get worse before it gets better.”
Heart thumping, she nodded. That was how the divers’ disease came on—worse after he was out of the water. “We’ll get you to bed. Mr. Blade! We’re ready to go up.”
Blade turned to clank the platform chain with the barrel of his gun, shouting up to the airship. A moment later, the platform jerked beneath them and they began to rise.
When she glanced back at him, Thom’s gaze was searching her face. A frown darkened his expression. “Are you all right, Georgie?”
“I will be. Excuse me, please. I have something to do.”
Over the rattling and the noise, he didn’t hear her come. Blade was just turning away from the chain when Georgiana swung the diving dome with all of her strength. The heavy brass helmet rang dully against his skull. Jarring pain shot through her fingers and wrists. Her palms went numb.
Blade dropped in a heap. His gun clattered to the boards. She left it there.
She turned back, but Thom was already at her side, his arms coming around her.
“Georgie?”
“Oh, Thom.” Fighting back sudden, hot tears, she pressed her forehead to the cold brass plate over his chest.
“I’m glad I never pissed you off that much.” His arms tightened before he drew back. “What was it?”
She closed her eyes, hating the tears slipping down her cheeks, but now that it was done, something broke, and she was cold and shaking.
But not feeling an ounce of regret. “He stepped on your hose.”
“Not by accident, I guess.” His voice hardened. “Are you all right?”
“I am. He . . . used my hand.” Simply saying it pushed the sour sickness up her throat again. “And told me tomorrow it would be my mouth.”
Thom didn’t respond. Just held her tighter. But she knew what was burning in him.
They were halfway up to the airsh
ip. With a deep, shuddering breath, she glanced down at the diving helmet still clutched in her hand. She’d been careful to hit Blade with the side of it, where the impact wouldn’t damage the valves or the glass face plate. Blood and short hair clung to the smooth brass.
“Not even a dent. After it’s cleaned, it should be fine to dive in again,” she said.
Thom gave a rough laugh. “Georgie.”
She set the dome on the boards, slipping her arm around him to face the airship. Their hands were empty. It was best to show everyone right away that they didn’t intend to kill anyone else.
Not yet, anyway—and not unless they had to.
But hopefully not at all. “Did you find the submersible?”
“Yes. Flooded.”
“Oh.” They wouldn’t be using it, then. She fought the weight of disappointment. “Well, we’ll find another way.”
He nodded. His gaze dropped to Blade, crumpled on the boards. “I’d have done it for you.”
“I thought of asking. But he’d have been wary of you, and more prepared to shoot when you went for him.”
“I’d still have done it.” His jaw tightened, and the sudden anger on his face would have been terrifying if she’d seen it on any other man. But Thom would never harm her, so it couldn’t frighten her. “I want to do it now.”
“I know.”
Because she wanted to do the same to the man standing at the side of the airship now. Southampton had forced Thom’s hand using her life. He just had more protection than Blade. A good number of mercenaries stood behind him now. None with guns drawn, but it was clear that they would shoot, given a signal from their employer.
Southampton frowned down at Blade. “What is this?”
“He forced my wife to touch him,” Thom said flatly.
“Ah. He deserved it, then.” Face clearing, the other man raised his voice. “Remember that Big Thom and his wife are our guests! I won’t tolerate such violations.”
Behind him, not one of the mercenaries seemed disturbed by Blade’s death. A few looked to Mrs. Winch, who was smiling faintly as she regarded Blade’s still form. She glanced up at Georgiana and tipped her head, as if in thanks.
Either Winch had hated Blade as much as Georgiana did, or the woman had just been made the new chief of this mercenary band.
Perhaps both.
Southampton stepped onto the platform, his gaze holding Thom’s. His voice lowered. “But I will hand your wife over to every mercenary on board if you don’t find the gold. Did you?”
Thom didn’t answer for a long second. Controlling himself, Georgiana realized. Wanting to destroy the man now, but knowing they’d both be killed if he did.
“I found the wreck.” Teeth clenched, he finally grated the words out. “But my time was out. It’s tethered off, so I can go straight to it tomorrow.”
“Not today?”
Ridiculous, greedy man. Georgiana had to control her own rage. “You will kill him, sir, and end up with nothing. My husband is standing now. Within an hour, he won’t be.”
Southampton looked back at Thom, his gaze coming to a rest on his bloodshot eyes. “All right. Tomorrow.”
A few mercenaries shifted their feet. Not one looked glad to hear it—but also not as upset as Blade had suggested.
Holding tightly to Thom’s hand, Georgiana left the platform. Winch turned to follow them—would be their guard, she realized. Better than Blade.
Georgiana paused for a moment. “Will Southampton still pay Blade’s share, Mrs. Winch?”
“He will. It’ll be split between the rest of us.”
No wonder the others hadn’t looked too upset. “Like a bonus?”
Winch shrugged. “If you like.”
Georgiana did.
* * *
The divers’ disease hit Thom hard soon after they reached the stateroom. She managed to get him out of his suit and into the bed, but there was little she could do after the first pains started. Soon he was sweating, his body twisting up in agony. Georgiana hovered over him, massaging his joints when he could stand to be touched. He was silent through it all, jaw clenched, and she wished he would make some sound—but she was the only one who did, whispering his name through the worst of it.
But whatever was happening inside him, the mechanical bugs soon healed it. The pains passed just after noon. Too wrung out to even raise his head for a bit of soup, Thom fell into a deep sleep that lasted the remainder of the day.
It was after dark when he woke. Georgiana had dragged a chair to his bedside, and glanced up when she heard him stir.
Her heart lifted. He was awake, looking at her—and his bloodshot eyes had cleared.
“Oh, Thom. Are you well?”
“I am.” His voice was a dry rasp. He swallowed. “And you, Georgie?”
“So much better now.” And sitting here, smiling at him like a useless ninny, when he hadn’t eaten all day. “Dinner is waiting. I told Southampton we wouldn’t be joining him, so they brought it here. Would you like it in bed or at the table?”
“Not in bed.”
He sat up, the muscles of his stomach rippling. Sometime soon, Georgiana vowed, she would run her hands over them when he wasn’t sick. But not now. She waited long enough to ask whether he needed help—he laughed at that before crossing the cabin, just as strong and steady as always—then laid out their meal while he tended to the necessary and washed. He pulled on trousers, but didn’t tuck his shirt before joining her.
Her neat and orderly Thom, not so orderly now. And she liked it very much.
His knee bumped into hers when he sat and pulled up his chair.
“Now eat,” she told him, and he suddenly laughed before obeying and taking a bite.
She didn’t know quite what had amused him, but couldn’t stop herself from smiling again—smiling, even though they had no submersible. Smiling simply because he was there.
“I’ve spent every moment this afternoon trying to think of a clever escape. I haven’t yet, though I do know how to avoid the guards outside this cabin.”
Mouth full, he raised his dark brows.
Georgiana tapped the porthole over the table. “We’re fortunate that our abductor is a rich man—or that he has the credit of a rich man. You would never find such large windows on the bow of a poor man’s airship. Not when the glass has to be replaced every time they hit a goose.”
Thom grinned. “That’s a truth.”
“I don’t think we’d have to break it, either.” Which would make far too much noise. She fingered a bolt in the metal frame. “Are your hands strong enough to pull these out?”
Taking another bite, he nodded.
“Then we can climb up outside the hull and onto the deck. We’ll have to surprise whoever is on watch—and maybe take one of the boats.” She sighed. “But I don’t know what to do after that. This flyer will catch up to us. They have every advantage. Weapons. Speed. And I don’t see how to turn that advantage around.”
Her voice broke at the last. Oh, God. It was so hard to remain practical and unaffected when their lives were at stake.
He set his fork down. “We will, Georgie.”
Yes, they would. Trying to gather herself, she drew a deep breath. “Do you think we can delay another day?”
He lifted his gaze to stare out the porthole. Not looking at anything, she knew. Just weighing their chances, as she had been all afternoon.
“Maybe I can bring up just a bit of it, and tell him I have to go back down the next day for the rest. Or we’ll convince him to wait another day so that I can bring up the submersible. If he’s after money, it’s worth a bit. And we’ll take our chances in the boat tomorrow night.”
Her chest tightened. “How far do you think we are from shore?”
Thom was quiet for a long moment. Then he said, “I think we have a better chance in a boat than we do here.”
A long distance, then. She nodded, and despite her best effort to stop them, her eyes suddenly spilled over w
ith tears. Then Thom had her in his arms, holding her in his lap while she sobbed against his neck.
“Georgie, Georgie.” His fingers stroked through her hair, her name a broken murmur in her ear. “I’d kill him again if I could.”
And he knew. He knew how wrong this all was. Everything wrong, except being in his arms. Her breath shuddered against his throat. “I was so angry. So angry. I’d have ripped it off if it hadn’t risked you.”
“You should have, anyway.”
“Would you have? If it was me needing that air, would you?”
His livid silence gave Georgiana the answer. He wouldn’t have risked her, either—and just thinking of it infuriated him.
It did her, too. “And not just because he made me feel so disgusting. Not just because he took something that should be a gift. But that he would dare use your life against me like that. And his reason was that he hadn’t been paid enough. But Southampton’s just the same. He feels that he’s owed something, and he’ll use our lives to get it—and he degrades you just as much while he’s at it.”
Not in the same mean way that Blade had, but Southampton degraded Thom in his own manner, by treating him as less than a man. He was just more subtle about it. Georgiana didn’t even know if Southampton recognized what he was doing.
Thom shook his head. “It’s the same in some ways, Georgie. But not anything like what Blade did. I can ignore what Southampton says and he doesn’t hurt us for it, as long as I dive. Blade didn’t give you the choice to ignore what he’d done.”
That was true. But both men were wrong, either way. She sat back in Thom’s lap, met his eyes. “Do you want to kill him?”
“Yes.” No hesitation. His gaze flattened, and the same terrifying anger hardened his expression. “If I knew of any way to do it without risking harm to you, I would. But I’ll warn you, Georgie. Right now he’s just full of threats. The moment I think he intends to hurt you, I’ll rip him in half. I won’t stop myself, no matter the danger. If you see that happen, you get to one of the boats, because I’m going to tear this ship apart and bring everyone else down with it. But for now, I’ll leave him alive if that’s what it takes to get you away.”
Salvage Page 10
