A terrible foreboding, worse than before, struck her. She darted forward, calling Rebecca’s name, only to be met with the woodsy sound of chirping birds and rustling grass and trees, and the muted roar of the River Thames as it twisted through the landscape.
“Becca!” Alec joined in with the calls. He dismounted and led the horse to a tree with a low-hanging branch near the embankment and tied him up. His gaze met Kendra’s as she stalked the area. The fear she saw in his eyes echoed her own.
“She’s got to be here,” she said.
“Lady Louisa wouldn’t have left Becca . . .”
Alive.
He didn’t say it, but she knew that’s what he meant. Alec pivoted, his long legs moving up the embankment as he called Rebecca’s name.
“Becca! Becca! Bec— My God!”
“What is it?”
Kendra hurried toward him as he wrenched off his shoes and jacket. He had already dove into the water by the time she reached the spot where he’d been standing. She followed the trajectory of his swim, sweeping farther down the river until she spotted a hat riding the choppy waves of the Thames—Rebecca’s hat. Her gaze continued to move, and in the blackish waters she thought she saw movement below.
Kendra realized she was holding her breath as Alec’s strong arms slashed the water, swimming in fast strides toward the figure caught in its current, being swept inexorably downstream. She had been so transfixed by the scene in front of her that it took her a moment to realize that her name was being called from somewhere behind. She spun around to see the Duke, Sam, and, oddly, Snake, emerge from the forest.
She didn’t bother to acknowledge them, but turned back to continue her vigil. Alec had finally caught up with his target and managed to flip Rebecca on her back, her face a pale cameo in the distance. He curved his arm around her head and towed her toward the nearest shore.
Kendra ran along the embankment, then hopped off the stones and sped through the tall grass and cattails along the shoreline. She reached the spot at the same time Alec came dripping out of the Thames, carrying Rebecca in his arms.
“Put her down. Hurry!”
Alec gently laid Rebecca on a carpet of grass. He brushed the dark auburn tresses out of her face, then he lifted his gaze to Kendra, the horror and pain in their depths so intense that for a moment, Kendra could have sworn that she was looking into the pits of hell.
His throat worked for a moment before the words came. “It’s too late . . . Becca’s dead.”
59
No!” The word ripped through Kendra like a gunshot blast. She dropped down beside Alec, shoving him away. Rebecca’s lips had already turned blue, her face pinched. Kendra worked quickly, straightening Rebecca’s body, checking for signs of life. Then she grabbed her chin with one hand, her forehead with the other, and tilted Rebecca’s head back to open her airways.
“What’s happening?” the Duke demanded, his voice rising. “Rebecca . . .”
Alec said in a husky whisper, his breath hitching, “She’s gone . . . she’s gone . . . ”
“What’s the mort doin’?” asked Snake.
Kendra leaned over, pressing her mouth to Rebecca’s to administer two rescue breaths. She turned her head, feeling for a breath on her cheek, and gave two more breaths. She pulled back, locking her hands together and placing them over Rebecca’s sternum to begin compressions. She pressed down no more than two inches, for fear of pushing Rebecca’s organs into her spine.
One, two, three . . .
“What are you doing? Miss Donovan, stop it! Stop it, I say!” Panic made the Duke’s voice unrecognizable.
. . . four, five, six . . .
Alec said helplessly, “I don’t know . . . Kendra . . .”
She ignored them, concentrating on pumping up and down. She knew the chances of saving a drowning victim in this manner were slim—thirty percent. If this was the twenty-first century, she’d be able to administer an electric shock with an AED, which would bring Rebecca’s chances of survival up to ninety percent.
. . . seven, eight, nine . . .
“You’re hurting her! I order you to stop!” The Duke reached out to catch her by the shoulder. His reaction wasn’t abnormal, she knew; panic turned people senseless. But she couldn’t afford to deal with it. Without breaking her rhythm, she shot a furious glance at Alec.
“Keep him away from me! I know what I’m doing!”
. . . ten, eleven, twelve . . .
“Gor, she’s beaten ’er!” Snake piped up.
“Miss Donovan . . .” Sam stepped forward, maybe to pull her away.
Suddenly, Rebecca jerked and issued a wet cough. Kendra quickly rolled her on her side, so she could vomit up the dark water of the Thames.
She heard the Duke’s hoarse cries behind her, and was surprised to realize that there were tears in her own eyes. She blinked quickly and said, “We need to get her warm or she’ll probably go into shock.”
The Duke and Sam stripped off their coats and wrapped them around Rebecca, who continued to hack up river water until it turned into dry heaves.
“We had to leave the phaeton on the outside of the forest. There wasn’t a path wide enough for it,” Aldridge said. He raised a visibly shaking hand to wipe across his mouth. His eyes met Kendra’s. “You . . . what you did . . . thank you.”
“She killed her . . .”
They looked down at Rebecca. Her eyes were open. Her face was still pinched and so white it looked bloodless, except for a web of painful-looking lacerations. But it no longer had that terrifying blue cast. Her teeth were chattering as she struggled with the words. “Lady Louisa . . .”
“We know,” Kendra said, and looked at the Duke. “We need to get her home, into a hot bath, get some brandy in her . . .”
Snake withdrew from his grubby coat the small silver flask that she remembered from when she and Alec had been kidnapped. “It ain’t brandy, but if’n ye wanna give it ter ’er.”
Kendra frowned at the kid, but took the flask. “You know this could stunt your growth.”
She uncorked the flask and nearly handed it back when her eyes watered from the scent of strong whiskey. But one look at Rebecca’s shivering form changed her mind. Squatting down again, she tipped the flask to Rebecca’s lips.
“Just a little,” she cautioned, and pulled it away as soon as Rebecca began coughing. Still, she was satisfied to see the color that bloomed in the other woman’s cheeks, chasing away the death pallor.
“Dear heaven, that’s ghastly,” choked Rebecca.
Snake scowled, snatching the flask away from Kendra. “Ain’t neither. Oi knows a bloke ’oo knows the man ’oo makes it fer a flash ’ouse. The Blind Duck ’as the best whiskey in London Town.”
60