Being shot, losing Oriana—Thom could let those go. Not the threat to Georgiana.
“Fair enough. Especially as the name I’ll have will depend on those coins.” All trace of amusement fled his face. “And all that I need to know of you? You’re a man who can haul and dive. I want those coins back. You’re going to get them for me.”
And so now Thom knew something else about the nobby bastard. This man would look at him and his arms and anyone else who’d lived under the Horde, and think they were all lower than shit. But he’d use them, anyway, if they served his purpose.
So Thom was back to being under someone’s boot. But he wouldn’t be working for nothing. This would be for Georgiana’s life.
And it might take his own life. His gaze scanned the horizon again. No telling how far out they were. But it was farther out than he usually dove. “Did you plumb the depth?”
“Sixty-five fathoms.”
“Impossible,” Thom said flatly. That was almost four hundred feet.
“Not for you. The infected are less prone to the divers’ disease.”
“But not immune to it, and there’s more than that to worry about. Any deeper than a hundred, and even men with bugs can black out, like they’re swimming drunk. I’ve felt a bit of that myself. What you’re asking is a hundred feet farther than I’ve ever gone, and that was deeper than I should have.”
“Deeper than you should have, yet you’re alive now. So you could have gone deeper.” The bastard stepped back, his hand dropping to the pistol tucked into his belt. “I will keep it simple for you, Big Thom. Dive for the gold, or you’ll watch me put a bullet in your wife’s head. Then I’ll put one in yours.”
Rage swallowed any response Thom could have made. Only sheer will kept him in place—and fear of what would happen to Georgiana if he ripped this bastard apart where he stood. The Winch woman had been standing guard outside the stateroom door when he’d left. If Thom did anything here, he wouldn’t be able to get back to Georgiana in time to save her.
“Return to your cabin now. Talk to your wife. Sleep on your decision, if you must. But at sunrise, you’re going into the water. Your only choice is whether you’ll be dead or alive, and whether your wife goes with you.”
There was no decision to make. Georgiana was right: some chance was better than none. And if his submersible was still bolted to Oriana’s deck, maybe their chances would be better yet.
“I’ll dive,” he said. “So let me see the equipment you’ve got.”
* * *
Georgiana attempted to remain calm while Thom was gone, but she ended up pacing the floor until he returned. She didn’t wait for him to close the door before asking, “What does he want you to do?”
“Dive.”
She’d already guessed that. “Dive for what?”
“Oriana.”
His ship? Georgiana stared at him, expecting him to tell her it was a joke. But it was even funnier if true—and his grin told her that it was. She burst into laughter, shaking her head.
He unbuckled his coat, glanced around the stateroom. “I told them to bring me the suit and hose so that I can look them over. They’ll be coming with those and a tub.”
To make certain everything was watertight. “How deep is the wreck?”
“One hundred feet.”
Deep, though not horrifyingly so. And still dangerous. Most wrecks went down in the shallows, where giant eels and young sharks and sharp rocks threatened to tear into a man or into his air hose. The dangers of the open sea were not worse or better. Just different.
And now she watched Thom’s gaze slide away from her face, as if there were something he meant to conceal. But she could imagine what it was. “Did he threaten to kill me if you didn’t go down?”
His gaze snapped back to hers. “Yes. But I’ll kill him before he touches you.”
“I know.” That had never been in question. Knowing that he was diving for Oriana, however, raised another one. “Was your submersible aboard? Is there room enough for two?”
“Yes. And I was thinking the same.” Striding to the wardrobe, he hung his coat on a hook and dragged off his hat. His short hair stuck up every which way. He ran his gloved palm over his head once, as if to smooth down the strands. It didn’t help.
Well, she would not help him. Georgiana rather liked this wild look. “Do you think it’s a better option than a boat?”
“I do.”