Page 75 of This Earl of Mine

“Good thing none of us smokes, then, isn’t it?” Seb added dryly.

They unlatched the double doors at the far end of the warehouse and slid them aside to reveal a slanted wooden slipway that disappeared into the dark water. The tide was fully up, lapping hungrily only a few feet from the top of the ramp. Intermittent moonlight glimmered on the murky water as the boats moored along the sides of the small harbor creaked and rocked on their ropes.

Georgie came to stand beside him. “We have a problem. The hull still hasn’t been sealed with tar. It’ll float, but the gaps between the planks will let in water.”

“How much water?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, Johnstone was obviously going to risk it. Let’s get it in there and see if it sinks.”

Benedict took hold of one of the mooring ropes attached to the boat’s hull while Alex and Seb kicked away the wooden chocks that had prevented it from running along the metal launch rails. With a wooden groan of protest, the small vessel started to move, sliding down the angled slipway exactly as it had been designed to do,gathering speed until it entered the opaque brown water with a splash.

All four of them stood and looked at it.

“It floats,” Alex said.

“I feel like we should give it a name,” Seb added. “All ships need a name, don’t they?”

Benedict smiled. “TheGeorgiana.” He tugged on the rope so the vessel floated parallel to the ramp and clasped Georgie’s hand. “Care to hop aboard, Mrs. Wylde?” When she nodded, he picked her up as if she were weightless and deposited her on the rocking deck. She crawled over to the hatch and peered down into the dark interior. “I can’t see anything. Can you pass me a lantern?”

Alex produced a tinder box from his pocket and lit one of the paraffin lamps on the workbench.

“There’s a slow leak,” she confirmed, “but we should make it to Woolwich without sinking.” She handed the lantern back to Ben, who extinguished it.

A sudden flurry of movement had them all glancing toward the side window. Jem dropped through the casement and landed in a scruffy heap on the floor. “Time’s up, gents,” he wheezed. “Johnstone’s ’ere. Look sharp!”

Benedict beckoned him over. “Quick! Get into the sub.”

The boy shied away. “No chance. I’m like a cat, me. I ’ates the water.”

Judging from the layers of grime on his face, that statement was probably true. The boy looked like he even avoided washing with the stuff.

“Can’t you swim?”

“No.”

Ben sighed. “Well, hide yourself somewhere, then, quickly.” He secured the rope to a metal cleat on the ramp and glanced up at Georgie. “You, get inside and stay down until we’ve dealt with Johnstone.”

Chapter 40.

Georgie’s heart was hammering in alarm, but she did as she was told. She dropped through the narrow opening and landed in the shallow puddle of water that had already seeped into the boat. Unable to bear not knowing what was happening, she peered out through the tiny circular porthole at the front of the funnel.

Alex took up position by the front window. Benedict and Jem hid behind a workbench, and Seb ducked behind a pile of lumber near the stack of barrels. Footsteps crunched outside and Seb tilted his head in silent warning. To Georgie’s shock, all three of the men withdrew pistols from their clothing and exchanged nods of anticipation. Her heart lodged in her throat.

After an agonizing wait, a key scraped in the lock and the door to the warehouse swung open. Four men stepped through the narrow doorway, one holding a lantern aloft to light the way. There was a moment of ominous silence as they registered that the submarine had been launched, then murmurs of outraged disbelief.

The foremost man, a hulking figure with bushy ginger sideburns—presumably the elusive Tom Johnstone—bellowed. “O’Meara? You in ’ere?”

All four of the men peered around suspiciously. As one, they reached into their clothing and produced weapons: two pistols, two knives.

“I’m afraid not,” Alex drawled. He stood, his pistol aimed at the nearest man. “You’ll just have to make do with us.”

All four swiveled toward him, and Georgie let out an involuntary cry as a cacophony of shots rang out, seemingly from every direction. Shouts and howls echoed around the walls as the flash of muzzle fire and puffs of smoke added to the general confusion.

She could barely see anything in the shadowy darkness, but caught a glimpse of Benedict throwing down his spent pistol and launching himself at Johnstone, just as Alex pounced on another man. The four of them started punching and wrestling viciously, like the sailors she’d seen once outside a tavern in Blackwall, brawling over a tart.

She gasped as a knife blade glinted in the moonlight. The awful scuffle of grunts and thuds, the sickening sound of fists hitting flesh, made her stomach churn.

---