Silent Revenge (39 page)

“Who’s dead, Rosalind?” Simon’s heart beat faster in his chest. Was Colin dead? “Who’s dead, Rosalind?”

“Your…father.”

Simon’s heart slammed against his ribs.

“We argued…and…I pushed him…He was…drunk…and…fell. I didn’t…mean for him to…die.”

Simon felt James’s hand squeeze his shoulder, and he took a deep breath to hold himself together. He’d suspected for so long that Rosalind was behind his father’s death, but had no proof. Now that he knew for sure, it no longer mattered. He only wanted to find Jessica and make sure she was alive.

“It’s in the past, Rosalind. Just tell me where Jessica is.”

Rosalind doubled in a fit of coughing, and Simon held her until she recovered. “Gone. Colin…has her.”

Simon couldn’t breathe. His heart pounded in his chest, fighting the loud voice of agony that screamed in his head. “Rosalind, please. Tell me where he’s taken her.”

“Simon…”

“I’m here, Rosalind.”

“It’s…too late.”

“No.”

Her body went limp in his arms, and Simon stared at her for a moment before laying her down. He couldn’t think. He didn’t want to remember Rosalind’s last words.

He staggered to his feet and placed his hand against the wall to steady himself. He felt a terror unlike anything he’d ever experienced before. A fear that he had lost a part of himself he could not live without. The part that Jessica had silently claimed as her own.

Chapter 26

S
imon had no idea where to look for her. He paced the docks in the darkness, frantic with fear, waiting for Tanhill to appear, or the shipment to come. He didn’t know if she was alive. He had no idea where Tanhill had taken her.

Simon had never realized such devastating terror in his life as when he’d left Rosalind’s town house without Jessica. She’d been there. Simon knew it as if he could still see her. He could feel her presence. He could feel her terror.

He raked his fingers through his hair and struggled to keep his worst fears at bay while he waited for Tanhill to come. If he’d touched one hair on her head, he’d kill him.

Simon fisted his hands at his side and glared into the blackness, waiting for the ship that would bring Tanhill into the open.

“Tanhill’s here,” the Duke of Collingsworth whispered. “His carriage just arrived.” His Grace grasped Simon’s forearm. “Be careful.” He tightened his grip on Simon’s arm. “They found Mottley’s and Sydney Carver’s bodies floating in the river this morning. They’d both been shot in the back.”

Simon blocked out James’s words. Two more people were dead because of Tanhill. “Has the shipment arrived?”

“Not yet. Jackson’s keeping watch from above.” Collingsworth cast a glance to the crow’s nest located near the top of the mast of one of the ships docked in the harbor. “He’ll let us know as soon as he sees anything.”

Simon nodded then released a heavy sigh. “Nothing can happen to Tanhill until we find out where he’s taken Jessica. Make sure the authorities understand, James.”

“They do, Simon. I’ve already explained everything to the officers. They know—”

James’s words died on his lips.

Tanhill walked to the edge of the dock and watched the darkness for signs of his ship. The ship that would smuggle in the opium to be sold on the black market.

James tapped Simon’s arm again and pointed to the crow’s nest. The man stationed there waved his arms and pointed out to sea. He’d spotted the ship.

Simon touched the pistol in his coat and took his position to wait until the authorities made their move. He wouldn’t let Tanhill out of his sight until then.

It seemed an eternity before Tanhill spotted the ship, and another eternity before the ship finally docked. Everything was in place. Dockhands in Colin’s pay lowered the loading ramp, then scurried like rats foraging in the night, unloading their illegal cargo.

The blood thundered in Simon’s head, buzzing in his ears while he waited for the signal. He had not lifted his gaze from Tanhill’s blond head for a second. He knew exactly where he was.

Then the cry came for the authorities to converge. Voices from three angles bellowed the order to attack, and scores of uniformed men rushed from their hiding places to run up the wooden planks and overtake the smugglers on deck. The surprise on their faces was evident. The surprise on Tanhill’s face was well worth the wait.

Simon moved closer as the authorities boarded the ship. James stayed at his side.

Even though the men in Tanhill’s employ were markedly outnumbered, they refused to give up without a fight. Swords flashed, guns fired, and the first three men rushing up the gangway to board the ship didn’t make it past halfway.

Cries of men injured and dying filled the air. Bodies fell to the deck of the ship or were tossed overboard.

Simon wasn’t interested in the capture of smuggled contraband. He ignored the cries of human anguish and concentrated on Tanhill.

Tanhill moved to the side of the ship and scrambled down a rope ladder to a small boat tied at the bottom.

Simon followed him down the wharf with James at his side.

“Where will he go, Simon?”

“Inland until he can find a sheltered place to dock. Then he’ll run like the worthless refuse he is.”

They both crouched down behind a wide stack of crates and watched Tanhill maneuver his boat away from the violence and mayhem. In the darkness and the shadows, Simon and James kept close enough not to lose him, yet far enough away not to be seen.

Simon held up his hand and James stopped. “He’s mine, James. I want him.”

James nodded and stayed hidden in the shadows. “Be careful, Simon. He’s dangerous.”

“He’s always been dangerous,” Simon answered, watching Tanhill move his small boat between two docked ships. Simon moved closer, keeping his head down and his pistol in his hand. When Tanhill took the first step onto the dock, Simon lunged forward. “That’s far enough, Tanhill.”

Tanhill turned and lifted his hand. He aimed the barrel of his pistol at Simon’s chest, but Simon ducked before Tanhill fired. He heard the bullet strike somewhere behind him. Before Tanhill had time to fire again, Simon leaped through the air, knocking him to the ground.

They rolled on the hard wooden boards. Tanhill kicked Simon hard in the stomach, then jumped to his feet. He swung his fist, connecting with Simon’s jaw. Simon returned the punch, slamming his fist into Tanhill’s face. The crunch of bones beneath Simon’s hand helped to ease some of the loathing, but it did nothing to soothe the anger boiling within him. He was not absolved of any of the guilt and furor he felt, and his anger was soon replaced by a deeper hatred. Jessica’s loving face flashed before his eyes, and he pummeled his fist into Tanhill’s face again. Then again. And again. And again.

“Simon!”

James’s voice snapped him to the present and he stopped. “Where have you taken her?” Simon bellowed, wrapping his hands around Tanhill’s cravat and pulling him toward him.

Tanhill stumbled wearily when Simon let go and fell back against a large wooden barrel.

Simon lunged for him again, grabbing the front of his tailored topcoat and pulling him through the air. “Where have you taken her?”

Blood streamed from Tanhill’s nose and a deep cut above his brow, but the glint in his eyes revealed a defiance that sent a wave of uncontrollable violence through Simon’s body. “Where is she?!”

Tanhill dropped his head back on his shoulders and laughed. The laugh was cold, heartless. Evil. “She fights almost as well as you, Northcote,” Tanhill said, wiping the blood from his nose on the sleeve of his coat. “Although, she doesn’t have near your strength.”

Blind, raging fury erupted within Simon. Blood thundered in his head, and a bright whiteness flashed before his eyes. He lost control. He’d lost Jessica. He hadn’t protected her. He slammed his fist into Tanhill’s face again. “Tell me where you’ve taken her,” he hissed through clenched teeth, “or I’ll kill you right here and now.”

“No, you won’t, Northcote. You won’t kill me until you know what I’ve done with her. She’s gone. I’ve got her hidden somewhere so remote you’ll never find her.”

“Where!”

“Where you’ll never find her. She’ll wallow in the filth and darkness until she no longer has the strength to survive while you search for her.” Tanhill laughed his vile, evil laugh. “Do you know what else? I’ve left instructions that she’s not to be given food or water until I give the order. Think of that while you’re searching for her, Northcote.”

Rage exploded within him, and Simon drew back his fist and struck Tanhill again and again. His blows were wild and damaging. Simon would have killed Tanhill if James hadn’t stopped him.

“Where is she?” the Duke of Collingsworth demanded, pushing Simon away and supporting Tanhill’s limp body himself. “You have nothing to gain by keeping Lady Northcote’s whereabouts secret. The authorities know about your smuggling operation and have seized your drug shipment. It’s all over. There is no need to add kidnapping to your list of crimes.”

“Isn’t there?” Tanhill said, lifting his swollen lip to form a malicious grin. “I should have made sure he was dead when I had the chance in India.” Tanhill focused his gaze on Simon. “He married the freak just to get his hands on the money. It should have been mine. It would have been, too, if he hadn’t interfered. All I had to do was have her committed, and any court in the land would have given me control of her wealth. He ruined it.” Tanhill turned his gaze to Simon. The look in his eyes brimmed with hatred. “You’ll pay. You’ll both pay. And you can live with her death for the rest of your lives.”

A long, deafening silence stretched in the darkness, and then Simon stepped over to Tanhill and grabbed him by the front of his bloodstained white shirt. He slammed him up against a stack of wooden crates and shoved the barrel of the pistol he carried in his pocket at Tanhill’s head. When Simon spoke, his soft words held the sharpness of a sword. “Tell me where she is, or I’ll kill you right now.” A loud click echoed in the stillness as Simon cocked the pistol.

Tanhill choked out a strangled sound, fear and deliberation clearly written on his face. “Do you know how long I have hated her? Jessica with her stubborn pride and superior attitude. She doesn’t deserve to live. You could be rid of her. Why would you want to save her?”

Simon tightened his grip. “Tell me where she is!”

Tanhill raised one brow, a sinister grin lifting the corners of his swollen mouth. “I don’t believe it. You’ve fallen in love with her.”

Simon stepped back and fisted his hands at his side, fighting to keep from slamming them into Tanhill’s face again. The only emotion stronger than his hatred for Tanhill was his love for Jessica. “Tell me where you’ve taken her,” he repeated, his voice menacing. “If you don’t, I will take great pleasure in killing you now and finding her myself.”

Tanhill lifted his shoulders and stood straight. He still had to anchor a hand against a nearby barrel, but the grin of satisfaction on his face belied any weakness. Simon wanted to strangle him.

Tanhill shrugged free. “Very well. I will tell you where she is—for a price.”

Simon glared at his enemy, wishing he could put a bullet through his brain now. But he couldn’t. He didn’t know where to find Jessica.

“One hundred thousand pounds, Northcote, and my freedom.”

“You bloody bastard,” Simon hissed.

“Do you want to find her or not?”

Simon ground his teeth in anger. What choice did he have? “Where is she?”

“Your promise first.”

Simon stepped back in concession, but kept his pistol aimed at Tanhill’s head. “You have my promise. Now tell me where you took her.”

A slight grin turned Tanhill’s lips. “You will find your wife at—”

A loud explosion shattered the air around them. Simon turned toward the direction of the noise, to where Baron Carver stood with a gun in his hand, then back to Tanhill.

Tanhill’s face opened in wide disbelief as a small crimson circle spread across his chest. In slow motion, he sank to his knees, then crumpled on the slabs of wood beneath him.

“No!” Simon reached for Tanhill, praying it was not too late. Praying he wasn’t dead.

Simon lifted his enemy’s head. A small trickle of blood ran from the side of his mouth, another from his nose. “Where is she, Tanhill? Where did you take Jessica?”

Tanhill opened his mouth to speak. He turned his head, choking on the blood in his mouth, then clutched his hands to his chest. His body stiffened. “It’s…too…late.”

“Damn you to hell, Tanhill. Don’t you dare die!”

Simon looked at Tanhill’s face. His lips curled into a sardonic grin, and he choked out a bitter laugh. “You’ll never…find…her. Never.”

Tanhill sighed, then turned his face to the side and went limp in Simon’s arms.

Simon stared in horror at Tanhill’s lifeless body. How was he going to find where he’d taken Jessica? How could he take care of her?

Every muscle in his body trembled. A part of him died. Jessica was locked in an asylum somewhere with orders not to be given food or water. God help him. Jessica was living her worst nightmare because he hadn’t protected her.