"And what, pray tell, is the usefulness of cataloguing the ways and methods of punishing her? How is that meant to save her?"
"I told her to stay put," Blake grumbled. "She swore she wouldn't leave Seacrest Manor."
"Perhaps she listened to you, perhaps she didn't. Either way, it doesn't make a whit of difference at this juncture."
Blake turned to his best friend, his face holding an odd combination of fear and regret. "We have to save her. I don't care if we lose Prewitt. I don't care if the entire damned mission is ruined. We-"
James laid his hand on Blake's arm. "I know."
Blake motioned for the other two War Office men to gather round and quickly explained the situation. They didn't have much time to plan. Oliver was already forcing Caroline down toward the beach. But Blake had long since learned that there was no substitute for good communication, and so they huddled together for a moment as they agreed on a strategy.
Unfortunately, that was the moment that Oliver's men decided to pounce.
Once on the beach, Caroline realized that the channel waters were not as calm as she'd thought- and it wasn't the wind that provided the turbulence. A small boat she recognized as Oliver's was moored close to shore, and the soft crunch of sand under feet soon proved that they were not alone on the beach.
"Where the bloody hell have you been?"
Caroline whirled around and blinked in surprise. The voice had sounded as if it belonged to a large, burly sort of fellow, but the man who had just stepped into a shaft of moonlight was slender and disturbingly elegant.
Oliver jerked his head toward the boat and began wading out into the water, dragging Caroline along with him. "I was unavoidably detained."
The other man perused Caroline rudely. "She's quite fetching, but hardly unavoidable."
"Not so fetching," Oliver said derisively, "but quite married to an agent of the War Office."
Caroline gasped and stumbled to her knees, soaking the length of her skirts.
Oliver let out a bark of triumphant laughter. "Merely a theory, my dear Caroline, and one you have just affirmed."
She staggered back to her feet, spluttering and swearing at herself all the while. How could she have been so stupid? She knew better than to show a reaction, but Oliver had surprised her.
"Are you an idiot?" the other man hissed. "The French are paying us enough for this shipment to set us up for life. If you've compromised our chances-"
"Shipment?" Caroline asked. She'd thought that Oliver had been carrying secret messages and documents. But the word shipment seemed to indicate something bigger. Could they be smuggling ammunition? Weapons? The boat didn't look big enough to be carrying something so large.
The men ignored her. "The wife of an agent," the stranger muttered. "Sweet hell, you're stupid. The last thing we need is attention from the War Office."
"We already had attention," Oliver shot back, pulling Caroline along with him into ever deeper waters. "Blake Ravenscroft and the Marquis of Riverdale are up on the bluff. They've been watching you all night. If it hadn't been for me-"
"If it hadn't been for you," the other man interrupted, yanking Caroline against him, "we would never have been detected in the first place. Ravenscroft and Riverdale certainly didn't learn of our assignation from me."
"You know my husband?" Caroline said, too surprised to even struggle.
"I know of him," he replied. "And by tomorrow, so will all of France."
"Dear God," she whispered. Oliver must be smuggling out a list of agents. Agents who would then be targets for assassination. Agents like Blake and James.
She thought of ten different plans all at once and dismissed them all. A scream seemed useless; if Blake was watching the beach, he'd surely already have seen her and would not need to be alerted to her presence. And attacking either Oliver or the French agent would only get her killed. The only
possibility was to somehow stall for time until Blake and James arrived.
But then what would happen? They would have no element of surprise. Oliver knew they were there.
She caught her breath. Oliver seemed rather unconcerned with the War Office's presence. Without thinking, she jerked her gaze up to the cliff top, but saw nothing.
"Your husband isn't going to save you," Oliver said with cruel satisfaction. "My men are taking care of him even as we speak."
"Then why did you bring me here?" she whispered, her heart shattering within her chest. "You didn't need me."
He shrugged. "Whimsy. I wanted him to know I had you. I wanted him to see me give you to Davenport."
The man he called Davenport chuckled and, pulled her closer. "She may prove entertaining."
Oliver scowled. "Before I let you make off with her-"
"I can go nowhere until the shipment arrives," Davenport bit off. "Where the hell is she?"
She? Caroline blinked and tried not to show a reaction.
"She's coming," Oliver snapped. "And how long have you known about Ravenscroft?"
"A few days. Perhaps a week. You are not my only means of transport."
"You should have told me," Oliver growled.
"You have given me no reason to trust you with anything other than the providing of a boat."
Caroline took advantage of the two men's absorption in their argument to scan the beach and cliff for any signs of action. Blake was up there fighting for his life and there wasn't a damned thing she could do about it. She had never felt so utterly hopeless in all her life. Even with her parade of horrible guardians, she'd always held on to hope that eventually her life would turn aright. But if Blake were to be killed...
She choked on a sob. It was too awful even to contemplate.
And then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw movement at the bottom of the path on which she'd just descended. She fought the urge to jerk her head and stare; if it was Blake or James come to rescue her, she didn't want to ruin the element of surprise.
But as the figure crept closer, Caroline realized that it was far too small to be Blake or James, or any man for that matter. In fact, it moved in a way that was decidedly female.
Her lips parted with shock. Carlotta De Leon. It had to be. The irony was astounding.
Carlotta moved closer, quietly clearing her throat once she was in earshot. Oliver and Davenport stopped arguing immediately and turned to her.
"Do you have it?" Davenport demanded.
Carlotta nodded and spoke, her voice tinged by a vague, lilting accent. "It was too dangerous to bring the list. But I have committed it to memory."
Caroline stared at the woman who was, in a way, responsible for her marriage to Blake. Carlotta was petite, with alabaster skin and black hair. Her eyes had an aged look to them, as if they belonged to someone much older.
"Who is this woman?" Carlotta asked.
"Caroline Trent," Oliver replied.
"Caroline Ravenscroft," she snapped.
"Ah, yes, Ravenscroft. How silly of me to forget that you are now a wife." Oliver pulled out his pocket watch and snapped it open. "Forgive me, now a widow."
"I'll see you in hell," she hissed.
"Of that I have no doubt, but I do believe that you will be seeing far more interesting sights with Mr. Davenport first."
Caroline completely forgot that the aforementioned Mr. Davenport was holding her arm, and she lunged at Oliver. Davenport held firm, but she managed to land one good punch against Oliver's stomach. He doubled over in pain but unfortunately didn't lose his grasp on his gun.