“Ah, now, and would ye be doubting the word of a gentleman like Mr. Fraser? No, you’ll be after guarding these fine folk here, Roberts; I’ll be having the look around.” With a nod to his companion, he vanished.
Looking after Rollo had distracted me momentarily from the commotion going on elsewhere on the boat. Sounds of breakage came from inside the cabin, and I leapt to my feet, reminded of my medicine box.
“Here! Where you going? Stop! I’ll shoot!” The robber’s voice held a desperate note, but an uncertain one, as well. I didn’t stop to look at him, but dived into the cabin, cannoning into a fourth robber, who was indeed rummaging through my medicine chest.
I staggered back from the collision, then clutched his arm, with a cry of outrage. He had been carelessly opening boxes and bottles, shaking out the contents, and tossing them on the floor; a litter of bottles, many of them broken, lay amid the scattered remnants of Dr. Rawlings’s selection of medicines.
“Don’t you dare touch those!” I said, and snatching the nearest vial from the chest, I popped out the cork and flung the contents in his face.
Like most of Rawlings’s mixtures, it contained a high proportion of alcohol. He gasped as the liquid hit, and reeled backward, eyes streaming.
I pressed my advantage by seizing a stone ale bottle from the wreckage and hitting him on the head with it. It hit with a satisfying thunk! but I hadn’t hit him quite hard enough; he staggered but stayed upright, lurching as he grabbed at me.
I drew back my arm for another swing, but my wrist was seized from behind by a grip like iron.
“Beggin’ your pardon, Mrs. Fraser dear,” said a polite, familiar Irish voice. “But I really cannot allow ye to crack his head. It’s not very ornamental, sure, but he needs it to hold up his hat.”
“Frigging bitch! She hit me!” The man I had hit was clutching his head, his features screwed up in pain.
Bonnet hauled me out onto the deck, my arm twisted painfully behind my back. It was nearly light by now; the river glowed like flat silver. I stared hard at our assailants; I meant to know them again, if I saw them, masks or no masks.
Unfortunately, the improved light allowed the robbers better vision as well. The man I had hit, who seemed to be bearing a distinct grudge, seized my hand and wrenched at my ring.
“Here, let’s have that!”
I yanked my hand away and made to slap him, but was stopped by a meaningful cough from Bonnet, who had stepped close to Ian and was holding his pistol an inch from the boy’s left ear.
“Best hand them over, Mrs. Fraser,” he said politely. “I fear Mr. Roberts requires some compensation for the damage ye’ve caused him.”
I twisted my gold ring off, hands trembling both with fear and rage. The silver one was harder; it stuck on my knuckle as though reluctant to part from me. Both rings were damp and slippery with sweat, the metal warmer than my suddenly chilled fingers.
“Give ’em up.” The man poked me roughly in the shoulder, then turned up a broad, grubby palm for the rings. I reached toward him, reluctantly, rings cupped in my hand—and then, with an impulse I didn’t stop to examine, clapped my hand to my mouth instead.
My head hit the cabin wall with a thud as the man knocked me backward. His callused fingers jabbed my cheeks and poked into my mouth, probing roughly in search of the rings. I twisted and gulped hard, mouth filling with saliva and a silver taste that might have been either metal or blood.
I bit down and he jerked back with a cry; one ring must have flown out of my mouth, for I heard a faint, metallic ping somewhere, and then I gagged and choked, the second ring sliding into my gullet, hard and round.
“Bitch! I’ll slit your friggin’ throat! You’ll go to hell without your rings, you cheating whore!” I saw the man’s face, contorted in rage, and the sudden glitter of a knife blade drawn. Then something hit me hard and knocked me over, and I found myself crushed to the deck, flattened under Jamie’s body.
I was too stunned to move, though I couldn’t have moved in any case; Jamie’s chest was pressing on the back of my head, squashing my face into the deck. There was a lot of shouting and confusion, muffled by the folds of damp linen around my head. There was a soft thunk! and I felt Jamie jerk and grunt.
Oh, God, they’ve stabbed him! I thought, in an agony of terror. Another thump and a louder grunt, though, indicated only a kick in the ribs. Jamie didn’t move; just pressed himself harder against the deck, flattening me like the filling of a sandwich.
“Leave off! Roberts! I said leave him!” Bonnet’s voice rang out in tones of authority, sharp enough to penetrate the muffling cloth.
“But she—” Roberts began, but his querulous whine was stopped abruptly with a sharp, meaty smack.
“Raise yourself, Mr. Fraser. Your wife is safe—not that she deserves to be.” Bonnet’s husky baritone held mingled tones of amusement and irritation.
Jamie’s weight lifted slowly off me, and I sat up, feeling dizzy and mildly sick from the blow on the head. Stephen Bonnet stood looking down at me, examining me with faint distaste, as though I were a mangy deerhide he’d been offered for sale. Next to him, Roberts glared malevolently, dabbing at a smear of blood at his hairline.
Bonnet blinked finally, and switched his gaze to Jamie, who had regained his feet.
“A foolish woman,” Bonnet said dispassionately, “but I suppose you don’t mind that.” He nodded, a faint smile showing. “I am obliged for the opportunity to repay my debt to ye, sir. A life for a life, as the Good Book says.”
“Repay us?” Ian said angrily. “After what we’ve done for ye, ye’ll rob and spoil us, lay violent hands upon my aunt and my dog, and then ye’ll ha’ the gall to speak of repayment?”
Bonnet’s pale eyes fixed on Ian’s face; they were green, the color of peeled grapes. He had a deep dimple in one cheek, as though God had pressed a thumb there in his making, but the eyes were cold as river water at dawn.
“Why, were ye never after learning your Scripture, lad?” Bonnet shook his head reprovingly, with a click of the tongue. “A virtuous woman is prized above rubies; her price is greater than pearls.”
He opened his hand, still smiling, and the lantern light glittered off three gems: emerald, sapphire, and the dark fire of a black diamond.
“I’m sure Mr. Fraser would agree, would ye not, sir?” He slipped the hand into his coat, then brought it out empty.
“And after all,” he said, cold eyes swiveling once more toward Ian, “there are repayments of different kinds.” He smiled, not very pleasantly. “Though I should not suppose you can be old enough to know that yet. Be glad I’ve no mind to give ye a lesson.”
He turned away, beckoning to his comrades.
“We have what we came for,” he said abruptly. “Come.” He stepped up onto the rail and jumped, landing with a grunt on the muddy riverbank. His henchmen followed, Roberts casting an evil look at me before splashing awkwardly into the shallows and ashore.
The four men disappeared at once into the brush, and I heard the high-pitched greeting whinny of a horse, somewhere in the darkness. Aboard, all was silence.
The sky was the color of charcoal, and thunder grumbled faintly in the distance, sheet lightning flickering just above the far horizon.