The Rogue's Surrender (The Nelson's Tea Series Book 3) (34 page)

A man stepped out of the hedge, holding a pistol aimed at Eddie.

Admiral Roche!

“I will do much more than that if you do not tell me where you took the gold.”

“Roche,” Eddie snarled. Tension shot through him as he pushed Mercy behind him and shielded her with his body.

Mercy choked on a sob. Praise God, Eddie isn’t involved with that murderer! But she couldn’t allow her brother to die for her. “Please. Please, do not hurt Eduardo,
almirante
.”

“
Que idiota
.” His bitter laughter cut into the night air. “You are the greatest fool.” He turned his gun on Mercy.

She gasped. Would he pull the trigger? She’d heard horrifying tales that Roche cared not whether his victims were women or children. Determined not to cower however, she bravely stood her ground before him. This wasn’t the first time she’d been marked for death, though it might be her last.

“
Almirante
.” Eddie’s voice cracked with emotion, stirring her heart into a gallop. “Do not do anything we will both regret.”

“I cannot believe your sister actually thought she could hide everything she has done.” His questioning stare blazed with hatred as he turned his wrath on Mercy. “Bah! I spit on your personal endearments and your loyalty to a dying cause.
Liberté
can only be measured by one’s accounts.”

Mercy’s knees began to shake. Gooseflesh prickled all over her skin. She didn’t fear death. Roche would take a life this night. She was certain of it. His unrelenting stare promised murderous intent. But she feared for Garrick, for the life they would never be able to share. It would kill him to lose her now. Most of all, she feared for Eddie. What would he do? Proud men didn’t kneel. Would he do something stupid to protect her?

Roche snapped his fingers.

Two men, hiding nearby, stepped out of the shrubbery. Their beady eyes narrowed suspiciously on Mercy and her brother as they scanned the gardens for would-be intruders then advanced to a stop between Mercy and Eddie. Sumpton Hall’s imposing salvation obliterated in the distance. Neither one of them were going to make it out of this alive.

Roche snapped his fingers again. “If you do everything I tell you to do,
señorita
, your brother will not be harmed.”

Did he expect her to believe him? A proven liar and despot!

He gestured with his weapon. One of the guards advanced, hooking her arm within his meaty fingers. He yanked her sideways, away from her brother.

Mercy’s heart careened madly against her chest. She stretched out her hand. “Eddie!”

What did Roche plan to do with him?

“Do not struggle,” Eddie warned her. “Do exactly what he says. Defying
el almirante
will only make things worse.”

“You are quite right,
Capitán
. Now, move.” The other guard grabbed Eddie from behind and knocked her brother over the head. Eddie collapsed, then was promptly dragged away.

“No! Please… I beg you.” At this moment, Mercy would do anything, absolutely anything to save Eddie’s life. “Do
not
kill him.”

“Does that mean—”

“Drop your gun or you’ll be the first to die.”

Mercy’s heart seized in her chest as recognition dawned on her.
We are saved!
A member of Nelson’s Tea must have heard them while paroling the area.

“Let me go,” she ordered the dark clad man holding her arms. “You will see. You will not get away with this. You are doomed to failure.”

“Is that so?” Roche’s lips pinched tightly. “We shall see who is better at this game of cat and mouse.” He lowered his gun. “Come out into the light,
señor
. Give us the courtesy of knowing who has outwitted us, eh?”

Laughter erupted from the hedge. “Drop the gun. Kick it toward—”

The man wasn’t given time to finish his sentence. He grunted. A sickening sound of a blunt object hitting flesh dashed Mercy’s hopes.

Within moments, her would-be rescuer was dragged out for all to see. He was tossed on the ground with no consideration for how he landed. As the man scrambled to life, a boot was thrust into his neck.

Dios mio
, it was Damien Randall!

Roche’s man was choking off his breath.

“I beg you.” She jerked her arm, trying to get free and move to Randall’s aid. “Do not hurt
this
man.” Not Garrick’s first mate. The man had been a loyal friend, aiding Garrick at every turn.

“
Señorita
.” Roche grinned wickedly as he approached the helpless pirate. “Give me credit for some intelligence, eh?”

He squat beside Randall. “You serve that tyrant Blade, do you not,
pirata
?”

Roche signaled for his henchman to remove his boot, allowing Randall a ragged, gasping breath.

“Yes,” the raspy answer did not sound like the Randall she knew at all. Had Roche’s man crushed the pirate’s vocal chords?

She clutched her chest, fearing the worst.

Roche’s laughter sickened her. “I would like you to give him a message.” The evil admiral stood. “Do be kind enough to oblige.” He lifted the pistol and without preamble, shot Randall between the eyes.

“No!” Her legs gave way. She fell to the ground, bruising her palms on the pebbled path.

Pain seized Mercy’s heart, squeezing it so hard she doubled over, gasping for breath. Roche grabbed her by the hair, ripping out her mantilla and some of the pins Mrs. Mortimer had so lovingly arranged, and forced her to look at the blood oozing over Randall’s sightless eyes. Bile rose in her throat, cutting off her air. She heaved.

“When you are done, you will take me to the gold or I will make sure your brother faces the same fate.”

~~~~

“Excuse me. Pardon
me.”

Garrick wove through the crowd, struggling to come to grips with what had just happened to him. Admiral Roche had played him well. He’d lit that cigar and stoked the end to a blazing ember, luring him into a spiraling abyss. It had taken him several moments to regain his bearings, and only after Henry and Adele had found him, easing him back from his hellish memories to the present.

But what had he missed? Where had Roche gone?

He broke through the crowd and stopped cold. What he saw hung all of his efforts out to dry. Where was Mercy?

What the hell had happened? Why was Percy’s head in Constance’s lap?

Percy wrinkled his face as he came to, and Jeffers removed the smelling salts from the duke’s nostrils. “What the devil happened?”

Russell waved a few fingers before Percy’s face. “You passed out, Your Grace. How many fingers do you see?”

“Four blurs. I’d see four fingers, if you didn’t thrash them about at will.”

Constance’s sigh of relief was audible. “You see? It is as I said. The duke has fully recovered.” She rose, waving her arms about her to all who would see, then narrowed her gaze on Garrick. She smiled reassuringly. “Now, please do
not
let this little
incident
cause alarm,” she continued. “Many of you know how squeamish my husband can be. Let us forget this
dreadful
melodrama and enjoy ourselves. The night is still young and I, for one, plan to revel in my good fortune.”

Garrick moved forward to lend Percy his arms, helping his friend to stand and regain some of the pride his collapse had cost him.

The quartet began to play again as Percy stood, favoring his side. Constance hovered near, unshed tears glistening in her eyes as she doted on her husband.

Percy opened his coat, giving Garrick a glimpse of the blood saturating his waistcoat. “What have you done?”

“This is fearfully unfashionable.”

Simon interceded. “Fleming tried to escape.”

“And did he?” Percy asked, glancing at the people gathered nearby. He paled, as if it was possible to turn a pastier shade beneath all that facial powder.

“He tried,” Simon said. “I’ve taken the liberty of installing him in the library with a guard to ensure he doesn’t try again.”

“Odd’s fish, I shall send the man a bill from my tailor. My waistcoat is in ruins. I took me a deuced amount of time to acquire this particular embroidered piece and I shan’t be able to duplicate it.”

Russell lowered his voice. “Fleming knew exactly where to hit you, Your Grace.”

“That he did.” Percy searched Garrick’s face. “And don’t I know it. That, dear boy, proves my theory he sent those goons to kill us.” He inserted his left hand into his coat to support, or was it to hide his damaged goods?

Jeffers moved to Percy’s side and lifted his arm to smooth out a wrinkle. “Your Grace, we must return to your chambers and repair your appearance at once. May I suggest the gold this time?”

At the mention of
gold
, hair rose on the back of Garrick’s neck. “If Roche was here and Simon locked up Fleming, where is Mercy?”

Percy’s attention strayed as well. “Where’s my darling cousin? I wouldn’t want her to fret over my loss of consciousness.”

When the crowd began to part and Mercy wasn’t anywhere to be found, Garrick and Percy exchanged worried frowns.

“I say.” Percy shifted his attention to the hangers-on, several close family friends, and a few gossiping harpies eager for a snippet of bad news to share. Percy’s height gave him an advantage. His looked over the heads in the ballroom. “I would have a word with my cousin. I ask again, have any of you seen her?”

Voices murmured one after another. “No, Your Grace.”

Panic shot through Garrick’s veins. How had Mercy somehow managed to slip out from under everyone’s noses?
I wasn’t there to protect her, that’s how.

He grimaced, hating himself for being so weak, for the damned thorn in his side. “Where is she? She couldn’t have gone far.” He hoped.

Percy took a few steps, his gaze darting about the room, then stopped and winced.

“You’re in no condition for the hunt,” Jeffers told him.

“Bloody hell.” He looked down at his side again. “You’re right.” Percy glanced at Garrick, an apology written all over his face. “I’m undone. Do forgive me for bowing out, my boy. But fear not.” Relief smoothed out his features. “It appears you will not need my help. Your brothers have arrived.”

Garrick whirled around, arrowing his gaze to match the direction Percy had just been looking. Across the ballroom floor, his brothers stood smiling at party guests as if contemplating some sort of mischief.

Jeffers waved his hand before Percy. “Let us be off, Your Grace.”

“Capital idea, Jeffers.”

Garrick didn’t wait to watch Percy and Jeffers leave the room. If anyone could help him find Mercy, it was his brothers.

He wove his way through dancers attempting to begin another set, coming upon Henry. “Have you seen, Mercy?”

Henry shook his head then shifted his weight to his good leg. “I heard Adele say she went out onto the veranda. I thought no more on it because Randall and Moore had been ordered to guard that post and Husam is at the livery. Should I be worried?”

Laughter drifted over the quartet’s enterprising melody. Garrick located the source. His four brothers had finally caught sight of him and now barreled toward him, arms wide.

Henry grumbled. “Spare me your jovial reunion.” He stepped to the side just as Garrick was enveloped by eight brawny arms.

“Where have you been?” Max asked, locking his matching blue-eyed gaze with Garrick’s. “We’ve been waitin’ an introduction.”

James winked at Adele as she walked up to Henry and placed her gloved hand in his. “Sister.” He glared at Henry, giving him a brief nod. “
Brother
. A pleasure.”

Henry grimaced. “To be sure.”

Garrick burst out laughing. Would his brothers ever forgive Henry for strapping their sister up in his cabin… naked? His own laughter sounded foreign to his ears.

In light of Henry’s discomfort, he changed the subject. “How long have you been here, lads?” Moreover, if his brothers were present at Percy’s ball, where was Mercy’s brother? “Where is,
el
Capitán
? Weren’t you supposed to bring him with you?”

If Eduardo had deviated from their plans, Mercy was going to be livid. She expected Garrick to make good on his promise to her.

His brothers shook their heads at once.

Keane moved past him to embrace Adele. “Hello, sister. You look as beautiful as ever.” Receiving a polite welcome from Adele, Keane spun to Garrick. “He isn’t here?”

“He was right behind us,” Rigby said, “as sure as the powder on the duke’s face.”

The four men burst into laughter again, the rowdy bunch.

Max slapped Garrick on the back. “Now that’s a sight William will be sorry he missed.”

It was a sight Garrick was sorry Mercy had missed. Where was she? Raw misery tore at his insides. The joy of seeing his brothers safe and sound in England didn’t pacify him. Their reunion was satisfying, of course. But he was plagued with one question, one that dug at him deeper than he liked to admit.