of her like a charm to ward off evil. “Where’s Luc? I want to see him.”
Danton’s wide lips curled in a derisive sneer. “He’s not been harmed. He’s aboard my yacht, which is moored down by the water.” Without taking his eyes from her, he half-turned and shouted, “Danvers!”
His voice echoed through the trees, and Emmy strained her ears for an answering shout. Her knees almost crumpled in relief when a reply—undoubtedly Luc’s voice—came from afar.
“Emmy! I’m well.”
She glared at Danton’s impassive face. “All right, then. I have the jewels.”
He stepped forward eagerly. “All of them?”
“All except the Ruspoli sapphire. You stole that yourself, I hear.” she added caustically.
He gave a careless shrug, and anger began to replace her fear.
“You killed a man for it,” she pressed. “And made it look like the Nightjar’s crime.”
He smirked. He was a monster, utterly unfeeling. He’d taken a human life, kidnapped her brother, blackmailed and threatened her, and clearly felt no remorse. She was almost shaking with the urge to throw the box at his head.
“You need not fear that I shall ask you to steal again,” he said calmly, mistaking the look on her face. “Once you hand me that box, our acquaintance will be at an end. I’ll have no further tasks for you. The Nightjar can retire gracefully.”
Emmy narrowed her eyes. She didn’t believe him. She was a witness; what incentive did he have to let her live? He’d already killed the last man who could identify him.
Brutus, apparently an astute judge of character, strained toward him and growled. Danton flicked the animal an irritated glance. “Tie him up.”
Emmy looped the dog’s leash around a tree branch.
“That’s better. Now, the jewels. They’re in that box?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” He indicated a spot about six feet in front of him. “Put it down on the ground, then step back.”
Emmy did as she was told. She watched as the Frenchman squatted awkwardly and lifted the lid. The gems sparkled, even in the dim moonlight, and his smile of triumph made her want to slap him. Where was Alex? Why wasn’t he rushing forward to arrest him? What was he waiting for?
Chapter 41.
Alex was waiting for a clear shot. He inched forward, crawling on elbows and knees, cursing the abundant undergrowth. It was useful to disguise his own position, but the sheer density of it made it impossible to get a clean line of sight to Danton. The Frenchman had chosen a good place for his rendezvous.
He caught a glimpse of Seb moving around to the rear of Danton’s position, and was reminded of all the times they’d done similar maneuvers during the war, belly-down in the dirt, hiding in the bushes with their rifles. It was good to have Seb at his side.
He squinted through the trees and tried to locate Emmy. That velvet dress of hers was fetching, but it made her bloody hard to see. She almost disappeared into the shadowy foliage. All he could make out were her pale hands and her equally pale face. She looked frightened but determined; her freckles stood out starkly against her cheeks.
He watched her put the box on the ground and say something to Danton. The Frenchman ducked out of sight and Alex cursed silently. He glanced over at Seb, who shook his head in a silent message to indicate that he didn’t have a clear view, either.
Alex inched to the right, trying to line Danton up with the V-shaped notch on the end of the Baker’s barrel. Another tree blocked his aim. Bloody hell. He’d only graze the Frenchman’s arm if he fired now.
Danton picked up the box of jewels. Alex held his breath, waiting for the bastard to step into his line of sight. He wasn’t about to kill the man, but he could certainly incapacitate the bastard. He tightened his finger on the trigger.
Danton was almost in range when he drew a pistol from his coat and Alex’s blood ran cold.
He leapt to his feet with a savage cry and fired. His bullet went wide, but Danton, as he’d hoped, whirled around and fired the pistol wildly in his direction, instead of at Emmy. The ball whistled past his head and embedded itself in a tree to his right with a dull thud.
The scent of spent gunpowder took him right back to the Peninsular and he started to reload his rifle without conscious thought. He’d already placed the butt on the ground and was reaching back for a paper twist of gunpowder when