Carlotta, on the other hand, was motivated by more political reasons, most of which involved the collapse of the British Empire. And it was obvious that the woman believed passionately in her cause.
Her two captors were bickering over Caroline's fate, and she had no doubt that the argument was going to escalate into a full-scale shouting match before long. She also had no doubt that Carlotta would emerge the victor. It was a simple enough outcome to predict; Davenport could always find another woman to pester. Carlotta wasn't likely to find another country she wanted to destroy.
And that meant that Caroline would end up very dead if she didn't do something soon.
She was still held firmly in Davenport's grasp, but she twisted until she was facing Carlotta, and blurted out, “They're after you already.”
Carlotta froze, then turned slowly to Caroline. “What, precisely, do you mean?”
“They know you're in the country. They want to see you hang.”
Carlotta laughed. “They don't even know who I am.”
“Oh, yes, they do,” Caroline replied, “Miss De Leon.”
Carlotta's knuckles turned white around the handle of her gun. “Who are you?”
This time it was Caroline's turn to laugh. “Would you believe I am the woman who was mistaken for you? Amusing but true.”
“There is only one man who has ever seen me…”
“The Marquis of Riverdale,” Caroline supplied. Oliver had already said his and Blake's names, so there didn't seem much need for secrecy.
“If I might interrupt…” came Davenport's sarcastic voice.
BANG!
The force was so great, Caroline was sure she'd been shot. But then she realized two things: she felt no pain, and Davenport's grip had gone utterly slack.
She swallowed convulsively and turned around. Two bodies were now floating in the water. “Why did you do that?”
“He bothered me.”
Caroline's empty stomach churned and heaved.
“I never knew his name,” Carlotta said softly.
“Who?”
“The marquis.”
“Well, he certainly knows yours.”
“Why do you tell me this?”
“Self-preservation, pure and simple.”
“And how is this meant to save you?”
Caroline's lips curved into an enigmatic smile. “If I know this much, just think what else I could tell you.”
The Spanish woman's stare was hard and steely. “If you know too much,” she said with eerie softness, “then why shouldn't I kill you right now?”
Caroline fought for her composure. Her knees were trembling, and her hands were shaking, but she hoped Carlotta would just attribute that to the cold water swirling around her calves. She had no idea whether Blake was dead or alive, but either way, she had to remain strong. If he had—God forbid—been killed up on the hill, she was damned if she was going to let his life's work be completely destroyed by this tiny, dark-haired woman. She didn't care if she died in the process, but she wasn't going to let that list of War Office agents out of the country.
“I didn't say I know too much,” Caroline finally said. “But I might know exactly what you need.”
There was a terrifying moment of silence, and then Carlotta lifted her gun. “I'll take my chances.”
In that moment Caroline realized she'd been lying to herself. She did care if she died. She wasn't ready yet to leave this world. She didn't want to feel the pain of a gunshot wound, to know that a bullet had torn her skin and her lifeblood was seeping out into the cold waters of the English Channel.
And God help her, she couldn't die without learning of Blake's fate.
“You can't!” she yelled. “You can't kill me.”
Carlotta smiled. “Oh?”
“You're out of bullets.”
“I have another gun.”
“You'll never escape without me.”
“Is that so?”
Caroline nodded frantically, then spied something that made her so thankful she was one inch away from committing herself to a convent just to show her gratitude.
“And why, pray tell, is that?”
“Because the boat is leaving.”
Carlotta whirled around, saw Oliver's boat heading back out to open waters, and spat out a word Caroline had never before heard spoken in a female voice.
When Blake's feet hit the gravelly beach, it was all he could do not to race into the ocean and yank his wife to safety. But he'd chosen the steeper path so as not to lose the element of surprise, and he knew he had to proceed with care and caution. James landed softly next to him a moment later, and together they surveyed the scene.
Carlotta seemed to have gone positively unhinged, waving her fist and screaming curses at the receding boat, and Caroline was inching slowly backward, edging ever closer to the beach.
But just when she'd managed to go far enough so that she might possibly be able to run to safety, Carlotta whirled around and leveled her gun at Caroline's midsection.
“You're not going anywhere,” she said in a deadly voice.
“Couldn't we at least get out of the water?” Caroline replied. “I can't feel my feet any longer.”
Carlotta nodded curtly. “Move slowly. One false move and I'll shoot you dead. I swear I will.”
“I believe you,” Caroline replied, with a meaningful glance toward Davenport's body.
Slowly, without ever taking their eyes off each other, the two women moved out of the water and onto the beach.
From his hiding place behind a tree, Blake watched the entire interchange. He felt James edge closer to him, then heard his whisper in his ear.