Wickham rubbed his hands over his face. “But I cannot go. Johnson,” he called to the man beside Elizabeth. “You go with them. When you are back, I will pay you more than we have agreed.”

Elizabeth turned to Johnson and whispered, “Ah, yes. He is going to pay you as he paid your other fellows.” The man widened his eyes to her. “Oh, he did not tell you about Mr Brown, did he? He is dead. And you will soon follow his fate if you listen to him.”

Johnson looked from Elizabeth to Wickham, then back again, pursing his lips. “I’m not going, sir,” he shouted back. “It’s your plan. You take her.”

Trembling and tightening his fists, Wickham plucked a small bag from his coat pocket and shoved it into Mr Fisher’s hands. “Here, I willpay you more. See? It is all yours! Now, take her with you.”

“I won’t take your money,” Mr Fisher said crossing his arms over his chest. “I won’t take her alone. If you want the lady to be delivered, someone needs to come with us. Who is going to deliver her to her father’s house once we get there?”

Wickham raked his hands through his hair, swearing all the vile words he could remember. Was it too much to ask? To hire a boat and send Elizabeth to the pirates in exchange for his life and a little money? Unfortunately, in his haste, he had not thought about this particular detail. Elizabeth was hardly going to leave the boat and run into the arms of a pirate.

He growled, cursing his luck again. That damned soldier from the militia had sold Wickham’s debts to his cousin, Brown. But Brown — may his soul burn in hell for eternity — had his own debts with those pirates and had contacted them promising to pay them with a lady of quality.

Wickham did not want to sell Elizabeth, but when he tried to deal with the situation, things became even uglier. His life was threatened, and a slow and painful death promised — again. Brown and that damned Digory had agreed that Elizabeth’s value would cover Brown’s debts, plus some extra money to make the arrangements necessary to bring her to them. If Wickham failed to supply her, he would be hunted and killed as promised.

All because Brown could not die a day earlier.

It seemed Wickham did not have many options left. He would need to deliver Elizabeth personally. “Fine,” he shouted. “I will go. But you will wait for me to come back, so we can leave the island as soon as possible. I will return her to them, I mean, to her family, and will come back with you.”

At last, they agreed.

Wickham boarded the decrepit small boat thinking that the pirates would not need to kill him after all. With his luck, the sea would take charge of it.

He approached Johnson, who was still holding Elizabeth. “You bloody idiot,” Wickham said quietly, spouting a series of curses and insultsagain. “Tie her to the berth and lock the door after you, and leave the port as soon as possible. And if you want to see your coins, meet me in two days at the arranged spot.” Then he turned to Elizabeth. “If you cause me any further problems, I swear, I will kill you, or Mr Fisher or whoever else gets in my way. I am a desperate man, Miss Elizabeth. Do not try me.” The rage in his eyes bore testimony to his sincerity.

Mr Fisher at last intervened. “This is no way to treat a lady. It doesn’t matter what she’s done.”

Wickham laughed. “You have no idea what she is capable of. Believe me. She is dangerous.”

Before Elizabeth could protest, Johnson dragged her inside one of the cabins, and did as instructed before leaving.

“Very well,” replied Mr Fisher. “You know her better. We sail at first light.”

“First light?” Wickham roared. “But I thought you… we were leaving now.”

Mr Fisher regarded Wickham with visible disdain. “Nobody sails off in a small boat like ours from a port as busy as this, with low tide in the dark. If there is a ship arriving, they won’t see us. We don’t want that, do we, Mr Wickham?” Wickham shook his head reluctantly. “Dawn should be in about three hours. I suggest you rest for now. You can use my cabin. I’ll stay with my son.”

“How long is it going to take us to arrive at Saint Anne Island?” Wickham asked anxiously. “I need to be there by tomorrow.”

“If the weather holds and we have good winds, we can reach the island in ten to twelve hours, fifteen at the most. Now rest.” Mr Fisher concluded and left.

~ ♥ ~

“Darcy, what the hell are you doing here?”

“It is good to see you too, Richard,” Darcy said with a weak smile.

Astounded, Richard could not avoid noticing each detail of his younger cousin standing in front of him — face still disfigured by a swelling above his left eye, bluish marks all around, cuts on both sides of his mouth, his left arm still wrapped around his torso — and could think of nothing else but his own failure.

He was not expecting to confront Darcy so soon; guilt and shame filled his heart. Twice he had failed Darcy, neglecting in his care of Miss Elizabeth. Firstly, allowing Wickham to put his hands on her again, and now, for not being able to locate them. He just lowered his eyes.

Darcy approached his cousin and with his good arm pulled him into an embrace.

“I am sorry, Darcy,” Richard whispered, hugging him back. “I can only guess how it was to wake up and not finding—”

“It was not your fault, Richard. I do not blame you.”

And Darcy truly did not. But waking up and finding out Elizabeth had been taken again was the most bitter and painful thing he had ever experienced. But he knew better than to blame his cousin. Knowing him as Darcy did, he knew Richard was doing everything he could to find Elizabeth.