Page 92 of An Imperfect Scoundrel

“I heard you can’t swim,” he said, his gaze sliding over Alana. “Now might be a good time to learn.”

He jerked his head toward the ocean, and Mr. Wickes dumped her over the side. She tumbled backward, her tethered hands grasping for the railing.

A shriek tore from her lips, absorbed by frigid water, which rushed up to greet her as she plunged into the ocean, her scream lost beneath the surface. Kicking her bound legs, she struggled to reach the surface, but each wiggle caused her to sink lower.

Black shadows crept into her vision, her lungs begging for oxygen, then her torso jerked, yanked by the rope tied around her waist. Unable to fight the pull, she stiffened, clamping her lips together to retain the last bit of oxygen.

She slammed into the bottom of the ship and cried out, releasing the breath she’d been holding. Agony radiated through every inch of her body as she scraped along the rough wood and barnacles coating the hull. She waited for death.

Another jerk on the rope yanked her forward, and her head smashed into the rudder, darkness claiming her mind.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CEDRIC

“Captain, we’ve got a problem.”

“Just once, I’d like you to come to me with a solution instead of a problem,” Cedric grumbled, glancing up from his desk as Mr. Hayward burst into his cabin.

“That’s not my job,” he replied, kicking the door closed behind him. “I only report the difficulties. It’s your responsibility to fix them.”

“And what difficulty have you brought me at this hour?” Cedric shoved his quill back into the inkpot and folded his hands on top of the letter he was writing.

“Mr. Evans is aware Dubois is a woman.”

“How did he discover her secret?”

“He tried to force her to have relations with him.”

Cedric was on his feet before Mr. Hayward finished speaking.

“I want Evans in the brig now!”

“The crew will want an explanation, especially since Mr. Evans is to be their new captain after this voyage.”

“Intercourse with prisoners is forbidden aboard this ship.” Cedric slammed his hand on the desk. “Evans will remain locked up until we dock.”

Mr. Hayward didn’t move. He stared at Cedric, his mouth working.

“Did you not violate that very same rule?”

“She wasn’t a prisoner, she was a guest, and she chose to lay with me.”

“Are you going to make that distinction?” Mr. Hayward tilted his head.

“What do you suggest?”

“Letting the captain handle this.”

Cedric snorted.

“My first directive holds. I want Evans in the brig. He can have Mrs. Dubois’ cage since he enjoys spending his time in there.”

“Where should I put Mrs. Dubois?” Mr. Hayward asked, a faint grin hovering on his mouth.

“In my cabin, where she will be safest.”

“Of course,” he replied, his lips twitching.