by Rebecca King
Rose tentatively nodded but didn’t speak. Right now, even thinking hurt but what troubled her the most was the gentle rocking of the horse. Her already churning stomach began to protest at the slightest movement until she knew she couldn’t stand it any longer.
“Barnaby,” she whispered, swallowing harshly against the need to be sick. “I need to get off.”
“We have to keep going,” he murmured with a frown. If at all possible, Rose had gone paler than ever before. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“The world is swirling,” she replied honestly. If she let go of him now she was going to end up face first on the ground again, and the next time she did that she knew she wasn’t going to get back up again for a very long time.
“Is it just your head?” Barnaby demanded. “Can you move all of your limbs?”
“I feel sick,” she whispered.
Barnaby stopped the horse and helped her down. Her feet had barely hit the floor before she lost the contents of her stomach on the ground beside them. Left with no other way to comfort her, Barnaby held her hair away from her face and rubbed her back while she steadied herself.
“She needs to be lying down. Reg’s plan to get you out of here is perfect given how poorly she is,” Ryan assured him. “I just think that we can’t waste a single moment. We need to get you moved on as fast as possible.”
“She is ill,” Barnaby protested.
“Yes, but wait until you see what we have planned,” Ryan replied. “We aren’t going to go to the safe house.”
“Where are we going then?” Barnaby asked looking from Ryan to Ben.
“Just follow us,” Ryan replied.
Barnaby was too distracted to pay much attention but nodded anyway. He didn’t want to give it too much thought. He needed to keep his attention on Rose so he was there if she needed anything. At times like this he had to rely on his colleagues’ wealth of experience to get him and Rose out of the area without encountering any further skirmishes with Chadwick’s employees.
“I am sorry,” she whispered when she had finished.
“It is because you have had a knock to the head,” Barnaby murmured gently.
Ben appeared beside them and repeated the same process as Reg had used to get her onto the horse and in Barnaby’s arms so they could be on their way. Once Rose was settled against him, Barnaby then guided the horse back toward town.
An hour and a half later they found Reg waiting for them on the outskirts of town.
“It’s about time you turned up,” he grumbled good-naturedly. “This way.”
Curiously, Barnaby followed. The trail they took led them up one street and down the other in confusing circles to the point that Barnaby was glad Rose had fallen asleep. If he hadn’t already memorised the layout of the town he would have been hopelessly lost but, twenty minutes later, he knew exactly where they were but still had no idea what his colleagues had planned.
The huge shipping barn was only half-full of goods waiting for transportation inland. Surely they didn’t expect him and Rose to travel on the back of a cart with rolls of material and kegs of brandy, did they?
Prepared to refuse, Barnaby reluctantly followed them into the huge building. It had enough space inside for them to leave their horses for their colleagues to deal with later. It also kept them out of sight while Reg told them about his plan.
“Right, I am afraid this next leg of the journey is going to be a little tricky but, if you bear with us, we can get you to where you need to go and then you can relax a little,” Reg said without preamble.
“What are we going to do?” Barnaby demanded. He wasn’t going to take another step until Reg told him everything.
“This way,” Reg replied. He nodded toward the huge doors on the side of the building. When he opened one of them, it was a surprise to see just how close to the dock-side the building actually was.
Barnaby’s brows lifted. He looked at Rose who was yawning sleepily and eased a supportive arm around her waist.
“You need to rest,” he murmured gently to her, their flight temporarily forgotten.
“I am alright,” she assured him. “I can do this.”
She had no idea what they expected her to do but if it meant getting away from Chadwick then she would do anything.
“You need to change your clothing first,” Reg said. He moved a huge plank of wood beside the door and pointed to two neatly wrapped packages. “I am afraid I had to guess your size, ma’am, but I can assure you that the attire that has been chosen is perfect for your purposes on the other end of this journey. That is all I can say right now.”
“Wait.” Barnaby lifted a hand to halt his colleague and pierced him with a stern look. “It sounds like you were expecting us.”
“We were,” Ben replied quietly before Reg could speak. “We have news.”
“It is not safe to talk here. Sir Hugo said to tell you that he knows everything and arranged this method of transport to get you out of here. That’s all I know. So, once you are changed into the new clothing, we will be on our way,” Reg said with just a hint of impatience in his tone.
Barnaby lifted his brows and sighed. If the suggestion had come from Sir Hugo, then Barnaby was prepared to relinquish control to Reg and the men. He just hoped that Sir Hugo was right. When he opened up the package for Rose, his brows lifted in surprise but he handed it to her and picked up the second package for himself.
“I will wait until you are changed, Rose. I will just be on the other side of this door. If there is anything wrong at all, or you feel ill again, shout,” Barnaby ordered before he followed his colleagues out of the door.
Rose eyed the package warily. She touched the fabric nestled inside tentatively, her curiosity stirred by the silkiness of the material that slid over her fingers. Her gasp was loud as she shook it free of the packaging and saw what she was supposed to wear.
“Are you alright?” Barnaby called having heard her startled exclamation.
“What? Oh, yes, fine,” she replied hesitantly. She didn’t know what to do. The dress chosen for her was wonderful to look at but highly inappropriate given her location. But, beggars couldn’t be choosers and, in comparison to the men’s clothing she wore now, it was much nicer. Unfortunately, she had no idea which was likely to attract the most attention, the breeches or the dress.
Aware that the men were waiting for her, Rose quickly slipped into her new outfit. The soft glide of the material over her skin was almost sensual. The feel of it brought a small smile to her lips. As she tugged it over her hips and let the skirt fall to the floor she looked down at herself, slightly concerned with how the dress fitted. It was much tighter than it ought to be, and the décolletage was shockingly low. It was by far the most risqué thing she had ever worn. She tried to tug it up a little but it wouldn’t budge. Shaking her head in dismay, Rose knew that without protesting to Barnaby and pointing out the dress’s many shortcomings she had to wear it and hope for the best. She just didn’t quite know which was likely to attract the most attention; a woman dressed in gentleman’s breeches, or a harlot dressed in a tight dress which barely concealed her modesty.
“All is well that ends well I suppose,” she whispered as she studied the length of her leg outlined perfectly by the long flowing material which cascaded off her waist and pooled around her feet in a waterfall of colour that was surprisingly beautiful. It felt terribly wanton to wear such a creation yet wonderfully liberating to be so daring. Temporarily, it allowed her to forget all about her head.
Thoughts of her head prompted her to poke at her hair. With a furtive glance at the door she quickly began to tidy it up.
“Rose, are you alright?” Barnaby called. He tried not to worry, but he was growing increasingly concerned the longer she was in there.
“I am fine,” she replied quietly and reluctantly stepped outside.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Barnaby opened his mouth to prompt her to hurry up when the door opened. Whatever h
e had intended to say remained stuck in his throat. His breath hitched. His mouth fell open. His mind went blank. Everything faded into insignificance. In contrast to the dreary building behind her, Rose was a vision of loveliness that was mesmerising. The dress was a contrasting mix of sophistication and temptation that was faintly shocking. It clung adoringly to each and every curve God had given her and gave a stunning hint of cleavage that tantalised whenever she moved. He had never seen such a beautiful sight.
“Good Lord,” Reg whispered as he blatantly stared appreciatively at her.
Rose shifted awkwardly and struggled to resist the urge to poke self-consciously at her hair as they studied her. She had never been so closely scrutinised before and it was unnerving. She didn’t know what to say and looked uncomfortably at Barnaby for help. There was a strange look in his eyes she couldn’t put a name to. Did he like the dress or hate it? It was difficult to tell. He didn’t seem inclined to want to speak.
“I will go and get changed,” Barnaby croaked before he sidled around her and hurried into the building. He slammed the door closed and rested his forehead against it for a moment while he willed his body to cool. “May the Lord have mercy on my soul,” he whispered, but doubted that if the Lord knew what was going on in his mind right now, he would show him any mercy whatsoever.
Rose watched the door close and stared blankly at it for a moment.
“Ma’am,” Ben said gently. When Rose turned toward him he made a valiant attempt to stop himself from staring at her and waved a negligent hand toward the small vessel waiting beside the dock. “Let’s get you into the boat. Barnaby can come and join us in a minute.”
He held out a cloak for Rose to step into and heaved a sigh of relief when she tugged the edges closed.
“I am afraid there is not much we can do about the rain. There is a storm approaching, you see. We need to get you to the bigger vessel, where you will be a lot safer, before the storm breaks.”
Rose nodded but didn’t think he could see her beneath the heavy hood of the cloak.
Well aware that she was injured, and quite obviously Barnaby’s precious lady, Ben held a gentlemanly elbow out for her. He carefully escorted her to the dockside. Once there though he realised that he had absolutely no idea how she as going to get down to the boat which bobbed in the water several feet below them. There were no steps, and it was impossible for Rose to jump down in the dress she wore. Stymied, he shared a blank look with Reg, who looked equally perplexed by their problem.
It was Barnaby who solved the issue. Striding toward them, he dropped into the boat and lifted his arms up.
“Sit on the side of the dock, Rose,” he murmured gently. “Once you are there, lean toward me and fall into my arms. I will catch you, I promise.”
Rose trusted him implicitly and had no doubt that he would do as he said. Dutifully sitting, within seconds she was standing in the gently rocking both beside him leaving Reg and Ben to stare at each other in astonishment.
“Now sit down,” Barnaby urged.
He had never felt such a wealth of emotion the likes of which he experienced when he came out of the building and saw her standing cloaked and waiting patiently beside his colleagues. First and foremost of which was raw and hedonistic need. He wanted her, it was that simple. What surprised him the most was that he didn’t just want to bed her – he now wanted to keep her.
“We will soon be safe,” he promised while they waited for Ben and Reg to join them. When she was seated, he picked up an oar and sat beside her.
Rose looked at him. Their eyes locked as they tried to convey their emotions without speaking. He asked if she was alright. She quietly reassured him. Neither of them spoke but then they didn’t need to.
Drawn into that steady look, Rose felt the strength of his quiet reassurance flow through her veins. It warmed her through to her very soul. In that moment, in spite of everything, she was glad she was there.
“I know,” she whispered eventually, well aware that they would be. If Barnaby said they would then they would, it was as simple as that.
Barnaby rested his oar across his lap. “Let’s tug your hood up so it covers your hair. It will keep you a little warmer and protect that beautiful head of yours. It is cooler now we are at sea so keep wrapped up.”
For my sanity, please keep yourself covered up he thought but didn’t actually say it aloud. The hood didn’t really need any adjustment. He wanted to touch her and stole the opportunity to smile at her; a soft, secretive kind of smile that made her smile back.
The tender moment was broken when Ben and Reg dropped into the boat behind them. Once the ropes were released, the boat was pushed away from the dock and the men began to row. The speed in which the craft glided effortlessly through the water would have been stupefying if Rose had been able to banish the fear of the alarming bobbing of the vessel in the waves. Once or twice the sea leapt over the side of the craft splashing everyone on board, but nobody seemed to notice.
“We have company,” Ben informed them quietly after several moments of silence.
Barnaby looked over his shoulder at the boat load of men heading their way. To his disgust another group of men were in the process of clambering aboard a second vessel further around the harbour. He studied each man’s face but couldn’t see Chadwick.
“Damn it,” he muttered in disgust.
“What is it?” Rose asked. She tried to look behind them but her head began to pound and made her feel sick again.
Or maybe it’s the rocking of the boat, she thought starkly suddenly dreading the journey ahead.
“Chadwick isn’t there,” Barnaby muttered.
“We are going to get ambushed if we don’t get a move on,” Reg snapped as he eyed both boats now closing the gap between them.
It was with trepidation that Rose studied the roughness of the sea as they glided through the harbour wall. It felt like she was abandoning safety when the boat began to dip alarmingly in the swell. White frothy waves appeared against the side of the boat and slammed into the small craft, soaking them all through to the skin within seconds. Rose looked down at the pool of water growing steadily at their feet and wondered if she should do something to get rid of it.
“Are we going to be alright?” Rose asked nervously. There was nothing she could do about the waves heading toward her so she chose not to look. Instead she focused on Barnaby, and the solitary structure of the lighthouse standing sentry like behind him.
“Just relax. I have no idea where Reg is taking us but we are not going to go far I don’t think?” He spoke loudly in the hope that his colleague would take the hint. Now that they were alone they could talk a little more freely without fear that they would be overheard. There was no reason for Reg to be so secretive.
“Let’s go round this headland and then you will understand,” he replied.
“Oh, Heavens above,” Rose whispered when they rounded the premonitory and all saw a huge ship anchored about half a mile out at sea. “Is that for us?”
“I hope they are armed and see us coming,” Ben growled suddenly from behind her. “We need backup if we are going to get onto that.”
“Just how many men does Chadwick have working for him?” Rose asked with a frown. Both boats behind them were packed full with men.
“A lot,” Barnaby replied. “But nobody really knows for certain.”
“Chadwick is likely to hire local thugs. They will be men who, for the right price, will do whatever the man asks of them, no questions asked,” Ben added.
“Whoever they are we are going to leave them behind,” Barnaby growled.
The light was fading rapidly now that the storm was upon them. The wind swirled around them, whipping the sea into a frenzy of cacophonous terror. Barnaby knew they had to get aboard the huge ship or they were going to get swept under by the height of the waves that were now starting to form.
“Get a move on,” Barnaby snapped.
“Can they see us?” Ben asked as he
squinted through the poor light at the huge ship.
“I hope so,” Reg snapped. “We haven’t got the time to signal them.”
“It’s huge,” Rose whispered as she studied the hulking outline of the massive ship they approached.
“They see us,” Barnaby muttered when he saw several sailors appear at the rail.
“Oh my word,” Rose whispered in awe when they finally drew alongside the massive vessel.
In spite of their need to hurry, Barnaby grinned at her. “Have you not seen one before?”
“No. Never,” she replied. Her gaze roamed over the sleek, highly polished sides of the craft which stretched into the darkness. “Oh, my word,” she whispered.
Barnaby looked sharply at her as he clung to the rope ladder the sailors lowered over the side. “I thought you were going to say that you had never seen one up close like this.”
“I haven’t seen one at all. I don’t get to travel much,” Rose replied without thinking about how much she was divulging to him.
Barnaby nodded and considered her revelations about her parent’s drinking. It appeared that whatever funds they had available were spent on imbibing rather than educating their daughter in the ways of the world. In one way it annoyed the Hell out of him while in another he was quietly pleased. At least now he could be the one to show her new sights and experiences the world could offer. If she would let him.
“Up you go,” Reg said suddenly.
Rose eyed the make-shift ladder with trepidation and then looked down at her dress. Before she could decide what to do, Barnaby took the situation right out of her hands.
“Hold my hand,” he ordered gently.
Rose squealed when several loud blasts suddenly boomed overhead. She flinched instinctively and looked up.
“They are shooting at our followers,” Barnaby told her making no apology for it.
