Simon groaned. “Please do not do that in my presence.”
She shot him an apologizing stare. “I do not feel any different, and I haven’t been sick. You are supposed to become sick, right?”
“Perhaps you are lucky in that regard,” Grey said with a sigh, no doubt exasperated by his wife at this point.
“Congratulations, sis,” Simon murmured, managing a slight smile. “Soon you will be casting up your accounts, as well.”
“Ugh. I can only hope I will do so with more style.”
Simon did not laugh at her attempt to lighten the mood. Instead, he looked away. He still clutched at his stomach as it started to churn once more.
He was supposed to protect Belle, and now she was gone. She could be screaming in pain. Or bleeding to death, counting on them to save her and they sat in a damn carriage, exchanging heated looks.
How long had it been since she disappeared? An hour? Two? One moment she stood there, talking with the man who’d hurt her, and in the next moment, two men dashed from the shadows, drawing their attention away for but a moment before the dynamite exploded and she’d vanished.
He couldn’t breathe. Choking noises tore from his throat.
Simon shot out the door, hitting the side of the road with a painful thud, heaving. His sister’s cry of alarm came from a distance, as Grey’s command for her to leave him enough room to breathe. Terrible noises started emerging from his throat. Were they moans or keens? He wasn’t even sure. Then he heard it.Belle, belle, belle.He was chanting her name like a prayer or like she was already dead.
Hard hands gripped his shoulders, hauling him upright.
Those hard hands then gripped his face.
St. Aldwyn.
“Saints brother, you are a sight for sore eyes. And ears.”
“Sod off.”
St. Aldwyn cursed. “Listen, we will find Lady Belle, and when we do we will string that son of a bitch from his limbs. But first, you must get a grip on yourself. Even if I have to tear England apart, we will find her, because I’d rather not have my wife declare war on France, and she would do that before she gave up on finding her friend.”
Simon rather thought she’d do it, too. The only reason she wasn’t here clad with armor was she’d sprained an ankle earlier that day and hobbling about in the dark seemed foolish.
He gave a single nod, fighting to take control back from his body and mind. Not an easy task, but he managed to find renewed strength the moment his determination to save Belle outweighed his fear.
He glanced at his brother-in-law. “You should take Evelyn home. We will start to track Belle and find the others.”
“I am not going anywhere. Belle is my friend, I will not abandon her,” Evelyn replied, her jaw set.
“This is no place for a woman with child! You will do as you’re told,” Simon barked, sending her a stern look.
St. Aldwyn’s gaze dropped to her middle, a low whistle leaving his lips, while he shook his head disapprovingly.
Grey shot them the briefest of grateful looks before leading his wife back to the safety of the carriage.
“We must stop anyone who may have seen her,” Simon said as he watched the carriage depart with hardened eyes before he turned to St. Aldwyn.
His friend nodded. “James saw her being tackled and rolled off the dock and into a boat. He followed, I do not know how, but I was tasked with informing the captain of the Mary Jane that we will be making a hasty departure. They are waiting for us now.”
Simon felt his gut clench at the thought of Belle on a ship, bound for Christ knows where. The thought of her gone, forever from this world, his life, was incomprehensible, inconceivable and utterly devastating. He would not allow it to happen. It could not happen.
They took off at a run. The anchored ship was not far. Simon refrained from asking questions, like who the hell was this captain and what his connection to James Shaw was. None of that mattered. The only thing that mattered was that they possessed the means to save Belle.
On deck, men were running around and shouting orders. Derek Shaw was at the helm, James Shaw nowhere in sight. A few minutes later, they were on their way and heading out to open sea.
“Do not worry, old friend, she’s as tough as nails, if you recall.”
That she was. “They have a good head start on us.”
