Page 2 of The Lady’s Sweet Revenge (Safely in Scotland #3)
Holding the globe against her chest, she braced her shoulder against the wall to return to the bed. Wrapping the globe inside the bedspread, folded double to muffle the sound, she bashed it with the pitcher.
Where she’d hoped for the soft crash of glass, she heard only a loud thump. Or perhaps it felt loud in the small confines of the silent room.
With more strength each time, she tried three more times before the glass finally broke.
She smiled at the clinking sound as she splayed the blanket out. There was no other option but to gingerly reach across the fragments to select a piece she could use to cut her ropes.
Feeling the burn of a slice on her middle finger and then her thumb, she pressed her lips together and continued until she found a piece big enough for what she needed.
It took precious minutes for her to find the best way to hold the glass so she might work it over the ropes. Frustrated with the slowness, she felt tears prick smartly in her eyes. Had she thought this would be easy? It was nearly impossible to hold the glass in the proper direction.
With each passing second, she worried someone would come to find her.
Eventually, she felt the rope give way and she was able to work a hand out. She left the rope attached to the other wrist, not willing to spare another minute on it. With her hands free she could move more easily.
Something else had happened as she’d focused on her task. The sky had lightened slightly, casting the room in the smallest gray glow coming from a tiny round window high on the wall.
She could just make out the frame of the door. As she moved forward, she realized she had not considered the possibility that the door would be locked. She almost expected it to be when she reached for the latch, but it opened and the door swung in easily enough.
She silently praised her captor’s underestimation of her. They, like most men, probably thought she would wake screaming and be unable to do anything else but curl into a ball in a pile of hearty burgundy wool and tears.
After checking to make sure no one was close by, she slipped into the narrow corridor and squinted at the warm glow of the wall sconces lighting the path. Picking the opposite direction from the hull of the ship, she slowly worked her way toward the steep stairs.
On deck, she saw a few men working at the far end of the ship. Glad for her dark clothing and hair, she rose out of the stairs and scurried for the shadows away from the men.
She stumbled over something but covered her mouth to keep from crying out in pain. Giving her foot a moment to recover, she kept moving but froze beside a dinghy as voices came closer.
“…much farther do we have to go?” one man asked. “Seems a waste to go all this way just to turn back to return her to her father and collect our pay.”
The other man chuckled. “Nay, we don’t plan to return her. Cap’n said Polk is lettin’ us keep ’er. The toff didn’t put up much ov’a fight to protect his poor niece when we took her. Stood there, ’e did.”
“Do ye think Polk will give the cap what he wants now?”
“I ’ave my doubts as he didn’t stop us. But if not, ’tis no matter. For once the Zephyr is safely ported in Inverness, a ransom letter will be sent. Ye know Cap’n Merrick wouldn’t take a job without a weighty payout.” The two laughed.
“What if they don’t pay?”
The man chuckled again and the sound sent a shiver up Harlow’s spine.
“They will pay. And we get to keep the girl to do what we…”
Harlow swallowed and shrunk back closer to the edge of the ship as the men passed, their horrid conversation getting pulled away by the wind.
Polk. They’d spoken the name as that of an accomplice. Someone who had been aware of the activities in the park, and had no intentions of returning her to her father even if he paid the ransom for her safe return.
They’d said he’d not tried to save his niece. Which meant there could be no misunderstanding that the Polk they spoke of was her Uncle Edgar Polk.
Swallowing too loudly, she shuddered with the betrayal that her dear uncle would be part of such a plan. Her mother’s younger brother had always doted on her and her brothers, almost seeming like another sibling rather than an uncle.
How could it be that someone she loved so dearly planned to trade her off to these men and whatever abysmal fate they had planned for her?
They spoke of him giving something to the captain; she imagined him getting himself into debt with such people and couldn’t fathom it.
She’d not known her uncle to be a heavy gambler.
Had he borrowed the money and been unable to pay it back?
But why would her uncle ever have need to borrow from brigands such as these? Her father would have helped him.
Whatever the reason, she wasn’t going to puzzle it out here.
In a daze, she glanced over the deck of the ship. It would soon be light, taking the safety of the shadows with the sunrise. She would be found missing from the room below and they would begin searching.
Looking over the rail at the black water below, she pulled away. She was a fair swimmer, but had only ever done so at the lake at Haverston Manor. She’d never tried to swim in the ocean. And how far would she have to swim?
She frowned at the dingy. If she could deploy it she’d be able to row to safety. But she knew she was not strong enough to do so and even if she could, it would be far too noisy and take much too long.
She had this one chance of escape and she wouldn’t waste it.
If she were going to have to swim, she didn’t want the hindrance of yards of heavy wool weighting her down.
She deftly removed her riding habit, and then reached behind her tugging at the laces to remove the corset that would restrict her movement.
It was unladylike to be sure, but she’d rather not drown if it could be helped.
Propriety easily fell victim to survival.
Reaching inside the small boat, she gripped onto an oar which was tangled in a fishing net attached to odd chunks of wood. Rather than spend more time disentangling the net, she just grabbed onto the whole mess and tossed it over the edge of the ship a few seconds before she crawled to the rail.
“If this doesn’t work, at least I’ll be dead and won’t have to worry over whatever fate I would face here.” As motivational speeches went, she found hers quite lacking, but it was the best she could muster before jumping into the inky depths below and letting the sea take her.