The Irresistible Rogue (Playful Brides #4)(78)

She was sitting in the kitchen with Cook, her belly a roiling mass of nerves, when Rafe came marching in.

“What in the hell are you thinking?” he shouted.

She winced. “Good to see you, too.”

A muscle in his jaw ticked. “I’m serious, Daphne. This isn’t a joke.”

“I don’t find it particularly humorous, either,” she said.

Cook and Salty exchanged wide-eyed looks and quickly excused themselves.

“Answer me. What were you thinking?” Rafe insisted as soon as the two men had left.

Daphne calmly folded her hands together in front of her and rested them on the wooden table. She’d already decided how she would handle this. She would simply explain her rationale. “I can help you. In France. You need me.”

“No. I don’t. I need you to be safe. You’ve put yourself in far more danger than you realize.”

Daphne swallowed. She remembered the moment Boris and Billy had come into her cell. The moment she’d been convinced she would be raped and killed. The terror she’d experienced when Billy had ripped open her breeches. The sickening feeling of the knife sinking into his chest and the tangy smell of his blood. The potential for that and worse lay in France. She was frightened, to be sure. But she was also a Swift and Swifts made their courage bigger than their fear. “I want to help you.”

“Damn it, Daphne. I can’t take you back now. You’re risking the entire mission.”

Her anger quickly resurfaced. She was capable, blast it. She might be a female but she could help. She stood and plunked both hands on her hips. “You once told me what you thought my problem was,” she announced. “You said I was far too judgmental and far too coddled. You said my family softened every blow. Well, you might have been right about that. But who’s being judgmental now? Assuming I can’t love you because my blood is too blue. You’re just as judgmental about my class as I ever was about your drinking. And as for being coddled, I think I’ve earned my place on this ship, sleeping in that cabin for days on end, pretending to be a member of the crew, interpreting Russian for you, being kidnapped, and knifing a man who attacked me.”

Rafe put up a hand to stop her but Daphne wouldn’t allow him to. “No, I’m not finished. You told me what my problem was but do you know what your problem is? You think you’re the only person capable of doing anything. You reluctantly agreed to bring me with you to the ship because you’re forced to admit you don’t speak Russian. If you thought you could learn it in the span of a fortnight, I’ve no doubt you never would have arrived at my engagement party. But I’m not stupid. I know I’m not the only person in London who speaks Russian. You could have picked someone else. You wanted me!”

He tried to stop her again but she wouldn’t have it. “You’re far too used to relying only upon yourself and you refuse to admit that perhaps, just perhaps, from time to time, upon occasion, you may actually require a bit of help from another person!” Her chest heaved and her eyes flashed. She lifted her chin. “I am trained, Rafe. By the best. You trained me. I’m not putting the mission in danger and I’m not putting you in danger. I may be putting myself in danger, but that’s a risk I’m willing to take. You needn’t worry about me. I told you. I can handle myself. And I intend to.”

Rafe paced away from her and scrubbed his hands through his hair. He turned his head to the side and shook it. She recognized the fear there. Fear for her safety. His voice was solemn. “I cannot keep you safe.”

“You don’t have to.”





CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT




They docked at Calais later that night after the wind picked up. They were pretending to be tradespeople who were merely in port to sell their goods. Rafe had spent the remainder of the journey poring through the letters in the bundle they had retrieved from Anton and Viktor. The men he wanted were in a small town just south of Calais. It was perhaps half a day’s journey. Rafe would travel quickly with only Salty and Grim.

Rafe stood in the captain’s cabin and tossed a few things in one small bag to take with him on the journey. A bit of food, some other provisions, one of the letters, two pistols and two knives. One of the knives was the one Daphne had used to kill that vermin near the docks. Rafe’s throat tightened at the memory of Daphne fighting that giant. She’d kept her wits about her. She’d managed to stick him before he’d tackled her. She’d faced a man at least three times her size with determination and courage. Daphne was right. She could take care of herself. And she’d been magnificent telling him so.

Rafe had retrieved the knife from the man’s body and brought it back to the ship. He hefted it into his hand and slid it into the pack. Then he surveyed the rest of its contents. They must travel light and be able to hide at a moment’s notice.

“I’m coming with you.”

Rafe turned his head. He had barely heard the door open and Daphne enter the cabin. She stood near the desk with her hands crossed over her middle.

“No. You’re not,” he answered simply, hefting the bag over his shoulder.

Daphne’s feet were braced apart and she had a determined look in her eye. “Don’t make me sneak behind and follow you, Rafe.”

He swiveled around to face her and stared her down. “Don’t make me tie you to the mast, Daphne.”