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D espite the discomfort of lying on the hard ground, there was immense relief to be found in waking outdoors for a change. Adrian blinked away the last vestiges of sleep and allowed himself a moment to savor looking up at the sky instead of a prison cell ceiling. Birds chirping in nearby trees served as further reminder of the freedom he’d gained.

He took a deep breath, allowed the chill morning air to expand his lungs, and reminded himself that he was alive. Thanks to his wife and his three loyal servants.

Leaves rustled in response to the breeze sweeping past them. The sound of the sea was no longer as prominent as it had been last night. His lips quirked on that thought and the memory it evoked, of how good it had been to reunite with his wife after having his doubts about her dispelled.

There was a different kind of freedom in that. An openness that hadn’t quite been there before.

He propped himself onto his forearm and fought the urge to press a kiss to her cheek, lest he wake her. Instead, he drew her blanket up over her shoulders, then rolled away slowly and stood. Shifting his gaze, he looked at his men. Turner and Ward were still deep asleep, but Murry looked back, alert and ready for what came next.

Adrian set a finger to his lips, encouraging silence. It was only a little past dawn, judging from the faint light. They had time.

Needing to relieve himself, he left the camp and strode between the trees. The undergrowth rustled as mice and other small creatures scattered upon his approach. Suspecting it would take a while for the rest of the group to wake and get ready, he took his time.

Which meant he was absent when the stranger arrived. Adrian heard the man’s voice while returning to camp.

Maintaining a steady approach, he moved with greater precaution. As silently as he was able, so as not to alert anyone to his presence.

Drawing nearer, he lowered his stance to stay hidden, while peering between shrubs and trees. The man who’d entered the clearing was maybe fifty years old, lean, with a stern face. He sat astride a speckled horse, the rifle he held aimed straight at Samantha.

Tension born from a mixture of anger and fear pulled at Adrian’s muscles. She and her companions had no doubt been woken by this man’s arrival, for they were fully upright now. Their bodies coiled, ready for action.

“I’ve heard similar excuses before,” the man said. “Doesn’t change the fact that you’re trespassing. And judging from that fire, I’m inclined to believe you might be guilty of poaching as well.”

“It was cold,” Samantha ground out. “We only used the fire for warmth.”

“The shot I heard last night suggests otherwise.” He snorted. “I’m taking you to see Mr. Fienes.”

The context of the conversation suggested Mr. Fienes was perhaps the landowner and that the man who’d found them was either a groundskeeper or estate manager of some sort. Whatever the case, his presence was damn inconvenient.

“Chances are,” said the man, “he’ll want to involve the local magistrate.”

“There’s four of us,” Murry said while Adrian circled around, attempting to reach a spot directly behind the stranger. “How do you plan on getting us to come with you with just one rifle?”

The man shifted, angling himself just slightly in Murry’s direction, as if to show him something. “I never leave home with only one weapon. Defy me, and I’ll shoot her first. After that, I’ll have to pick my next favorite target.”

“Two of us will still get away,” Murry said.

“And two of you will either be dead or close to it.” A click followed that statement, the distinctive sound of the rifle’s hammer being pulled back.

Adrian’s pulse leapt. He cast his gaze about, quickly assessing each person’s position, the distance between himself and the rider, how best to avert disaster. A quick assessment of the ground provided him with a paltry weapon in the form of a fallen branch. He curled his fingers around it, allowing the strength in his grip to calm him.

Murry raised his chin, defiance evident in his wide-legged stance. “That gives two of us better odds than we’re likely to have if we come with you.”

The best option, Adrian realized, would be to distract the man long enough for Samantha to get herself clear of his aim. And what simpler way to do so, than for him to speak up?

He stepped from between the trees, saw Samantha’s eyes widen. Apprehension filled Turner and Ward’s expressions. And then Adrian said. “I’ll come with you if you let my friends go.”

As expected, the man whirled in his saddle, nearly losing his seat in the progress. Samantha lunged, her movements a blur while Adrian ran forward, the branch swinging toward the rider right as Samantha caught hold of the rifle. A shot exploded from the barrel, the sound causing the horse to sidestep and whinny.

Adrian swung the branch. The force it exerted on the man’s back was enough to dislodge him from his saddle. He fell with a grunt, groaning as soon as he hit the ground. Turner and Ward were instantly on him, restraining him while his horse ran off. The pair gagged him for good measure.

“Is anyone hurt?” Adrian asked, his gaze darting from one person to the next.

“No. What about you?” Samantha was suddenly there, hands patting across his chest, frantically searching, her brow creased with concern.

“I’m fine.” He gave her a quick once over as well, just to be sure she too was unharmed. “Looks like the shot went wide.”

“Lucky for us,” Murry said while helping Turner and Ward tie the man up. “Someone is sure to come looking for the fellow. Especially once his horse returns without him.”

“We’ve got to get moving,” Samantha said, already gathering up the blanket she’d used while sleeping. She jutted her chin toward the man they’d restrained. “What do we do with him?”

Murry dropped to a crouch and set a blade straight to the man’s throat, which prompted him to make a series of urgent sounds against the gag in his mouth. “Silencing him would ensure that he doesn’t reveal any details about us.”

There was some truth to that, even though Adrian knew Murry only wanted to frighten the man. Neither he nor Adrian had ever killed someone for trying to uphold the law. And if they were indeed trespassing here, then he was in the right.

“We leave him,” Adrian said. “And get the hell out of here right away.”

* * *

Since anyone giving chase would now be searching for five people travelling together, Adrian suggested splitting up. It wasn’t ideal, but it made the most sense. They could reconvene later, once it was safe.

“If you’re able,” Adrian said, addressing Murry, Turner, and Ward, “make your way to Brest on the northwestern coast of France. Ask for Monsieur Geoffrey Arceneux. Samantha and I will meet you at his home.”

“What about the rest of your files?” Murry asked, a quick glance toward the saddle bags he’d been travelling with for the last few days. Ever since Samantha had ordered him to remove them from Croft House.

“My wife and I will take them with us,” Adrian told him.

They parted ways, Samantha and Adrian heading toward the Channel on foot, with one of the horses to carry their load. Meanwhile, Murry, Turner, and Ward took the carriage and the remaining horse inland. They would find other locations in which to cross the Channel, hopefully increasing everyone’s chance of acquiring safe passage.

Adrian gripped Samantha’s hand as they walked, their pace purposeful and precise. A boat. That was all they needed. Shouldn’t be too hard to come by. But when they reached the shore they found it completely deserted.

“Looks like we’ll have to walk until we reach the next town.” A smattering of what looked like houses far off in the distance offered a small degree of hope. Unfortunately, it was hard to tell if they were five miles away or twenty. “I’m sorry. I should have insisted we take an additional horse so you’d have one to ride.”

“Murry, Turner, and Ward need it more than I, for when they go their separate ways.” As if to prove she would not be deterred by a bit of exercise, Samantha lengthened her stride and marched forward without complaint.

* * *

Merciful heavens, it felt like her feet were about to fall off. Long treks were by no means a favorite activity of hers. It was only made worse by the fact that she’d no idea how far they still had to go. Already they must have walked for an hour. Or maybe it merely seemed that way since the village they’d spotted did not appear to be getting closer.

The pliable sand didn’t help. She glanced toward the edge of the water and wished they could walk out there instead, where the ground was firmer. But fearing the man they’d tied up might tell those who found him to search the coastline, they’d chosen to keep as close to the dunes as possible.

Legs aching with the effort to push herself forward, Samantha suppressed a groan while fighting the urge to curse. What Adrian had faced yesterday morning was far worse than this. Moaning about sore feet and exhaustion seemed ridiculous by comparison.

So she firmed her resolve and pressed onward while sending a sideways glance in his direction. A pang of emotion gripped her heart at the sight of his sharp gaze – the focused determination there as dear to her as his windblown hair, the slightly uneven profile of his nose, and a mouth only few were lucky enough to see curve with amusement.

To think how easily she could have lost him.

She shook away the awful possibility, banishing it from existence. The only thing that mattered was the here and now. They were together and they would survive. Because anything less would be utterly unacceptable.

“There. Look.” Adrian’s voice pierced Samantha’s musings. “It’s a boat.”

She followed the direction in which he pointed, toward a low sandy spot between two dunes. The tip of a rowboat peeked from within. “That won’t get us very far. Certainly not all the way to Brest.”

“Maybe it can get us to a larger vessel,” Adrian suggested. They rounded the dune and stopped walking, his gaze reaching across the water. “There are a few out there already. Cutters, from the looks of it.”

Samantha laughed. “We’ll never catch up to them in that thing. They’re much too fast. Besides, we don’t know who we’ll find onboard. Might not be someone who’s willing to help us.”

“Do you want to keep walking?” He gave her a look as if to say, I know you’re hating every step . “This would offer a bit of reprieve. At the very least, we can use it to row the rest of the way to that village. Maybe there we can find a docked ship and a captain to take us to Brest.”

An idea that appealed to her more than she cared to admit. “Fine. But how do we pay the boat’s owner for letting us use it?”

Adrian stared at her. “What?”

“I may be many things,” she told him flatly, “but I’m not a thief.”

He blinked. “Are you saying you didn’t steal the carriage we used to get out of the City?”

“That was different. I had no choice. But this…” She gestured toward the rowboat. “Taking it feels wrong.”

“Very well.” He scratched the back of his head and looked inland. “Let’s go see if we can find the owner.”

It was a risk. She knew this. But her conscience told her they could not keep making excuses to break the law. Not when they had the chance to do the right thing. So she trudged after Adrian and the horse up over the dunes, and toward the ramshackle house that stood a short distance away.

* * *

Leading the horse by its reins, Adrian followed a narrow down-trodden path that cut between the clumps of wild grass. The long blades rippled in response to the wind stroking across them, revealing clusters of pink and lilac flowers that were otherwise hidden near the ground.

Keeping abreast of their surroundings, he approached the house they’d spotted. Built from wood rather than brick or stone, it did not look well kept. The paint was mostly worn away with various parts of the structure showing signs of decay. It was a testament to the harsh weather that it had stood against since its construction.

Following the path around the right side of the house, Adrian went in search of the front door, Samantha directly at his back. Although the property had a fence, the gate no longer hung on its hinges. Instead, it lay discarded, partially overgrown by weeds.

Halting immediately beyond the fence, Adrian scanned the building and the area around it. A couple of carriages had been parked to one side, the horses enclosed in a nearby pen. Clearly, someone was making use of the place.

He secured their horse to the fence and glanced at Samantha. “Be on your guard until we know who we’re dealing with here.”

“Of course.” She helped him unload the bags containing the files.

Finding comfort in the pistol and dagger he’d been provided with earlier, Adrian squared his shoulders and crossed to the front steps. They sagged beneath his weight as he climbed them. He gave the front door a few loud knocks.

Movement sounded from within. Then silence.

A moment passed and Adrian knocked again. The sound of footsteps followed and then the door opened. A slim man with hollow eyes, a pointed chin, and greased-back hair appeared. His thin lips were turned down at the corners, complimenting his scowl.

“Yes?”

Adrian took the man’s measure within half a second.

Thug. Possibly cut-throat. Definitely involved in something illegal.

Perhaps they could use that to their advantage. If the man had ties to smugglers, he might be able to help them cross the Channel.

“We spotted a rowboat down by the beach,” Adrian told him. The man arched a brow at the mention of the vessel. “Any chance it might be yours?”

“Aye. What of it?”

“We’d like to purchase it from you,” Samantha told him. “If you’ll allow it.”

The man’s gaze hardened. “It’s not for sale.”

He began closing the door. Adrian stepped forward, wedging his foot between the door and its frame. “Then keep it and row us where we need to go. We’ll make it worth your while.”

“I don’t have time for this.” The man sneered. He pushed at the door, squeezing Adrian’s foot, but the leather his boots were constructed from held up against the man’s effort. “Remove your foot and yourself before I make you sorry you ever showed up here.”

Adrian was already sorry he’d done so. They should have just taken the blasted rowboat and been done with it. An opinion he planned to voice when he and Samantha were once more alone. There were times when doing the right thing was far more trouble than it was worth.

“Sorry to intrude,” he muttered, already in the process of making a hasty retreat. This man had death in his eyes and Adrian really wasn’t in the mood to find out why. He turned to his wife whose wary expression was further cause for concern. “Let’s go.”

But before they’d made it ten steps, a deeper voice spoke from behind them. “Forgive my brother’s curt manner. He’s not accustomed to guests.” Adrian turned to find a stockier fellow standing in the doorway, a beseeching look on his face. “I couldn’t help but overhear the offer you made him and wondered if I might be of assistance in his stead. Unlike him, I’m not one to ignore a good opportunity when it comes my way.”

Adrian hesitated, taking a moment to study this man. Unlike the one who’d first opened the door, he almost looked pleasant. Of course, this could easily be a deception intended to lure prey into his trap.

“We’re looking to cross the Channel,” Adrian said as he tightened his hold on the bag he carried. “Any chance you can help us with that?”

A broad smile materialized on the man’s face. “For the right price. If you and the lady come inside, we can discuss the details.”

“I fear these men will be trouble,” Adrian murmured, his voice so low only Samantha could hear him.

She turned slightly, her body angling away from the house as she told him, “Maybe we should take the boat without asking.”

If only she’d reached that conclusion twenty minutes earlier. “I didn’t think your conscience was willing to allow that.”

“Only because I didn’t realize the owners might be the villainous sort. They do have that air about them.”

“Well?” asked the man who wished to negotiate with them. “A cutter will be meeting up with a merchant vessel tomorrow evening. If you like, I can make sure it drops you off on the other side of the Channel before returning here.”

This was exactly what they needed. Too good to be true perhaps, but a chance Adrian felt they had to take. Because with each additional second they stayed in England, the greater the risk of them getting captured.

As if sensing this, the man opened the door a bit wider, amusement dancing in his bright eyes.

Though instinct screamed for Adrian to turn and run, something else kept him anchored in place. It wasn’t just his need for this man’s help, but an instinctive feeling that something awful was taking place inside the house. And that terrible things would happen if he turned away.

“Prepare to bloody your hands.” The whispered words drifted toward Samantha as Adrian took a step forward.