Page 19 of One Night in Vauxhall Gardens (Singular Sensation #11)

At least it’s not raining.

Yet there was a slight chill in the air being so near to the Thames. As Theresa held tight to Caroline’s hand, they followed Viscounts Winteringham and Aldren toward London Bridge. Even though the hour was deep after midnight, pedestrian and vehicle traffic on the bridge was sparse but not as light as she would have hoped.

With every step, fear tried to keep her captive, demanded that she remain rooted to dry land instead of contemplating going into the angry waters swirling beneath the arches of the bridge to rescue her brother and her fiancé. But, as Harry had once told her, everything she wanted for her life was waiting on the other side of fear, so she needed to find a way to conquer that tonight.

“Do you see them?” She had to shout in order to be heard over the sound of the waves and the slap of the water below as well as the ring of horses’ hooves and carriage wheels above on the cobblestones.

“Not yet!” Winteringham shouted back. “But if I wished to murder two people by drowning, the best bet would be to see them anchored to one of the piers on the edges. The likelihood of guiding a boat over for rescue is slim, and they’d be hidden in the shadows.”

“I’m so frightened,” she admitted to Caroline in a normal tone. “What if—”

“Don’t even think that,” her friend said back. “Plenty of the rogues have been in dire situations before, and every single one of them has come out alive. Even my husband, and now he is here to help us.”

“True.” But she couldn’t stop the freefall of her thoughts. As a breeze whistled over the bridge, she shivered and huddled into the spencer that matched her gown. “Why are we up here if they are down there?” By that time, their party had paused to look out over the edge.

Lights bobbed up and down on the water from lanterns on boats of varying sizes. It wasn’t the usual traffic that clogged the river, but it was enough to spell disaster as the tide rose.

“There!” It was Viscount Aldren that alerted them. As he pointed, Theresa strained her neck to see past the stonework of the bridge’s railing. “It’s difficult to see, but there is what looks like a rowboat either tied to the second pier from the bank or is anchored in the water.”

“I see it!” The waves were particularly angry and buffeted the small craft, but it was too dark to peer inside and determine if there were men in it. “How do you know it’s the one we want?”

Winteringham tugged her into a standing position. Into her ear, he said, “Because twenty feet from where we’re standing on the opposite side of the bridge is Lady Stover. Look!” He pointed and she followed his finger with her gaze.

A gasp escaped her. The blonde woman dressed in male clothing stood next to a tall man she didn’t recognize. “Are they waiting to see if the bodies have washed downstream then?”

“That would be my guess.”

“I’m going to confront her.” That singular woman had caused so much heartache for so many people that she needed to pay. But Winteringham grabbed her arm. “Let me go.”

“No.” He shook his head. “We can’t tip our hand.” Quickly, he brought her closer to Aldren and his wife. “We must be swift. We can’t reach the rowboat from the bank. It’s at least ten feet out on the river. And Stover will have posted a man there to make certain the boat isn’t molested.” His gaze encompassed them all. “We’ve brought rope, and knowing how mad Stover is, our men are probably tied up in the boat or worse case knocked out or have been shot to ensure they’re subdued. I’m proposing we lower someone down from our position here to get them ready to swim if they can.”

“And what then?” Caroline wanted to know. “They’ll be caught up in the current and drown anyway.”

“Yes, darling, but at least we can give them a fighting chance this way. If we don’t get into that boat, they die for certain,” Aldren said to his wife. “Once we lower someone down there, the rest of us will come down to the bank and try our damndest to fish everyone out of the water.”

Theresa forced a swallow into her suddenly dry throat. “And if Lady Stover’s goons get us?”

Winteringham shrugged. “It is a risk, of course, and I’ve already taken a beating from them once tonight, but we can’t stand here and do nothing.”

“What of Lady Stover?” Caroline asked. “Shouldn’t we distract her? Once she figures out what we’re doing, she’ll interfere.”

Her husband snorted. “First off, she’s a coward at heart and will undoubtedly run. And secondly, you and I are both adapt at fisticuffs. We can take both her and her watch dog down right now if you wish.”

She flashed him a grin. “I do.”

Theresa’s heart squeezed. She desperately wanted that sort of love for herself, but things had been left undecided and undeclared between her and Harry. Were they both leaning too hard on fear instead of trust.

“Hold, the both of you. Don’t do anything until I’ve lowered someone down.” Winteringham slid the coil of rope from his shoulder. “Which one of us is going to be dangled over the edge? We don’t have much time before the tide is at its highest. Already, it’s sloshing over the sides of the vessel, which will be sunk in short order.”

If I want everything that marriage offers, if I want a happy ending, if I want Harry, I have to stop letting fear rule my life.

Screwing her courage to the sticking place, Theresa nodded. “I’ll do it. I’m the lightest one here, and a fair swimmer.” After all, when she’d been at Leo’s country estate all those years, she’d learned the skill merely to fill the time. “Once I’m halfway down, Caroline and her husband can go confront Stover and distract her.” She glanced at Winteringham. “As soon as I’m in the rowboat and give a tug on the rope, you go down to the shore. If the earls are indeed incapacitated, once I get them in the water, I’ll need all the help I can get guiding them back to the bank.”

It was a tall order and fraught with opportunities for failure, but it was the best plan they had. Though if Caroline and her husband were waylaid by Lady Stover and the man with her, that was two less people to help drag the men out of the water. Theresa wouldn’t be able to do it by herself.

“I knew Hedgecomb made a wonderful choice when he picked you for his countess.”

With a collective gasp, all four of them turned at the sound of the Duke of Edenthorpe’s voice. He stood in front of them, fully dressed as if he were headed for an afternoon call with the exception of his left arm in a makeshift sling and firmly secured to his chest with a length of cloth tied about his waist. Another man stood at his side with a pistol in hand, clearly ready to defend the man to the death.

“Good heavens. Your Grace, what are you doing here? You should have remained in bed. Surely you aren’t well enough to be out and about.” Should she curtsey here on the bridge, or could they waive that protocol?

He held up his free hand. “If any of you think that I would sit idly by while my best friend is in peril with one of my other club members, you don’t know me that well.” Though there was a note of exhaustion in his voice, Theresa said nothing. “Let me be your distraction. Stover will be so surprised to see me alive, she’ll no doubt run in fear.” His grin was grim in the faint illumination. “My valet has accompanied me to keep me from further injuring myself. The rest of you race to the bank once Lady Theresa is lowered down.”

Winteringham cleared his throat. “With all due respect, Edenthorpe, do you think your part in this plan is wise?”

“Of course not, but this is a matter of life or death, and the rogues are scattered and licking wounds. We all do what we must as a way of survival. No man left behind.” He encompassed them all in his gaze. “We’re wasting time. Winteringham, get the lady ready and lower her down. Once I engage Lady Stover, the rest of you gain the bank. You’ll need to fight whoever is down there, but we must save Leo and Harry.”

Despite wanting to retch, Theresa nodded. “Godspeed, Your Grace.”

“You as well, Lady Theresa. Now go rescue your man. He is tip over tail for you.”

As her lips formed an “o” of surprise, Winteringham fashioned one end of the rope about her middle and between her legs, using her skirting as padding.

“Pardon the familiarity,” he whispered as he worked. “There is really no other way.”

She nodded. “You’re forgiven. Just try not to make me swing too much. I don’t do well with heights.”

“I’ll bear that in mind.”

Then Viscount Aldren pressed a small knife into her hand. “You might need this if you should have to untie them.”

Caroline patted her shoulder. “Please be careful. I don’t want to lose my best friend after my family has already been forced to flee London.”

Fighting back the urge to dissolve into tears, Theresa nodded. She swallowed down the fear sitting in her throat. “Now I know why the men of the Rogue’s Arcade are so special, and I also know that Leo was very, very wrong when he said I wasn’t strong enough to be married to one of them.”

Edenthorpe chuckled. “Damn, but I fully believe it will be the ladies who manage to save every last one of us when all is said and done.”

As her cheeks warmed from his praise, she looked at Winteringham and blew out a breath. “I’m ready.”

“We shall be certain to tell Hedgecomb how bloody brave you were tonight,” Winteringham said as he lifted her up onto the stone railing, holding her steady as she swung her legs over the side. “I’m going to lower you down as slowly as I can. Once you’re secure in the boat, tug hard. We’ll be waiting for you on the bank.”

She peered downward into the darkness and murk. Though she could hear the waves crashing against the piers and the water rushing beneath the arches, she couldn’t discern much of anything since the water’s surface reflected the dark skies. Her stomach folded upon itself while fear played icy fingers up and down her spine and her heartbeat drummed loudly in her ears.

But she nodded. “Lower me down. We’re out of time.”

“Good luck.” Then Winteringham coiled the rope around his body and arms, and bracing himself against the side of the bridge, he lowered her down into the unknown.

For a few seconds, Theresa was weightless as she dangled at the end of the rope the viscount held. The terror that roared up through her chest and throat was unlike anything she’d ever experienced before, even greater than when she’d been assaulted eight years ago, but if she could survive that, she could survive anything, and at the end of this adventure was Harry and the life they might have together.

Slowly, so very slowly, she was lowered with a few jerks and bounces from the rope. Every time she thought she might tumble into the teeming water below, she kept a death grip on the rope with both hands while holding the knife between her lips. Then, all of a sudden, when she peered beneath her, she was able to see the rowboat the viscount had pointed out, and what was more, there were two men sprawled on the bottom, one more upright than the other.

Flutters of excitement went through her belly as she recognized both Harry and Leo, but her brother was slumped over and not moving as much as Hedgecomb.

Five feet remained between her and the men in the boat. One more drop then another and her feet touched down on a plank of wood used as a crude bench. Harry twisted his body to look up at her.

“Theresa?” Shock went through that one word. “What the hell?”

As soon as she hopped off the bench and into the bottom of the boat, water immediately seeped up to her calves, but there was nothing for it. With fingers that shook and felt far too stiff and cold than they should be, she unknotted the rope from about her waist. Then when it came free of her person, she gave it a good yank. Seconds later, it was immediately hauled upward. She took the knife from between her lips and knelt in the water at the boat’s body. “There’s no time to explain, but we need to get you both out of here.”

None of that negated the fact that she was beyond glad to see both men alive.

“Your brother is in a bad state,” Harry said in a rushed whisper that contained far too much emotion to try and analyze at the moment. “Lady Stover shot him in the abdomen; he’s lost far too much blood.”

Her heart lurched, but she nodded. There was no time to let fear or premature grief distract her. She worked at the ropes that bound Harry’s wrists behind his back, sawing with the blade back and forth in a rapid motion. It was difficult enough with fingers that were cold, but as more and more river water continued to splash into the wildly heaving rowboat, she had trouble remaining upright.

“Once I free you both, we have two options.” Through the darkness, she glanced at the rope that held the rowboat in place on the river. It had been somehow secured to one of the piers at the side, which meant it was out of the way from much of the water traffic but no less in danger of being sucked into the rapids created by the structural errors of the bridge’s arches. “We can either try to ride out the rapids in the boat, or we can take our chances by swimming through to the other side where there are a couple of rogues waiting to haul us ashore.”

Providing they’d manage to subdue Lady Stover’s goons.

At last, enough strands of the rope broke enough that Harry was able to free his hands. With a soft hoot of victory, he quickly rid himself of the rope that bound him to Leo then he took the knife from her hand and set to work on her brother’s bonds.

“I rather doubt this rowboat has enough integrity to remain floating for very long, but at least we’re relatively safe right now.”

“Right.” As she used his solid body as an anchor, Theresa moved over the flooded floor of the boat to kneel at her brother’s side. “Leo?” When he didn’t respond, her chest tightened. “Don’t give up yet, Leo, do you hear me?” She lightly tapped his cheeks in the hopes of rousing him enough to assess his health. “You have far too much to live for. Rachel is waiting for you.”

Finally, he raised his head and groggily looked at her. “Theresa?” A hiss of pain followed. “I’ve been shot. Nearly done for.”

“If you give up now, I’ll never forgive you.” As she spoke, she removed her spencer, and when Harry finally broke through the ropes that bound Leo’s wrists, he helped to lay him out so she could quickly assess the state of his wound.

“How bad is it?” His voice was raw, and she couldn’t imagine how terrifying the whole situation was for him.

“Bad enough.” Not willing to think beyond this moment, she glanced at Harry. “Give me your cravat. I’ll bind the wound as best as I can, but then we need to make a plan. There is far too much water in this boat.” As she talked, Theresa folded the spencer then pressed it against Leo’s side where the ball had ripped through his clothing. Dark blood had stained the fabric and also flowed in the water. “It will have to do until we can get him home.” When Harry handed over the length of lawn, she wrapped it about Leo’s body twice. Hedgecomb secured the ends in a knot behind him. “Leo, we’re going under the bridge by hook or by crook. You must be strong and try to stay conscious. Can you do that for me?”

This was the singular most frightening moment in her life, but there was nothing for it.

Her brother groaned but he nodded. “If I don’t, I suppose you’ll turn into a harpy.” The joke fell flat, but it meant he’d rallied enough.

As he sat up and hauled himself to the opposite blank meant for a bench, she moved to the middle of the small boat. The craft rocked horribly, and she was nearly sick to her stomach from the wild motions, but then she glanced at Harry, and the world suddenly felt as if it paused just for a few seconds. “Why do you stare at me like that?”

“Because you are quite possibly the most amazing woman I’ve had the honor of meeting.” He snaked a hand about her nape, hauled her close, and then quickly kissed her. “For luck.”

It was enough and had the power to rebuild her strength. Seconds later, a wave hit the rowboat with enough force that it capsized, making the decision for them all. With a scream, she reached out for both men then went under the cold surface.