And she was never going to help Fitzsimmons invade Ireland, no matter what he did to her. If he got hold of the hidden cache of weapons, none of the people in the district would be safe.
At last she managed to break away and ran a few steps back toward the house.
He caught her by the hair and struck her hard. He aimed for her jaw, but his signet ring carved a furrow in her delicate cheekbone, and she collapsed face-first in the sand.
She lay still as a stone even when he tried to determine whether she were playing possum by groping her bottom and breasts.
The storm was raging overhead, so despite his rampant lusts, Fitzsimmons steadied himself. Even he had enough common sense to know he could not run the risk of remaining out in the open too long. No, he would have to get to shelter at some point.
And do what exactly? she wondered, relaxing all of her muscles so that she would not flinch no matter what he did to her.
Her only guess would be to secure the guns and signal the fleet, which would have to be standing off the coast, but near enough to be in visual range, close enough to take advantage of the element of surprise.
So she endured his painful hands upon her until finally he grunted, "Bloody great. I hit the bitch too hard."
He hoisted her up over his shoulder none too gently and strode down the strand.
Oh, gods above, she thought. He's heading straight for the cave.
Then she remembered what he said the night he had tried to propose. Fitzsimmons had told her he'd seen her on the beach that day when she had thought him her mystery lover. He'd been looking for the cave even then. So where had he been that he had seen her, but not found the cave when she had?
Up on the cliffs was the obvious answer, but she'd seen no one. So there had to be some sort of concealed outpost he had been using all summer and autumn.
She remembered the light she'd seen on the cliffs that night months ago. Had he been keeping watch in a ruined hut or cottage?
Will knew the whole area. If he came back in time, he would find her. She just had to hold out long enough. Or get a weapon to disable, but not kill him. She was sure he would be more valuable alive so he could reveal his accomplices. This was not the first time this nest of traitors had planned an invasion. And it wouldn't be the last if they didn't weed out the conspiracy once and for all.
These thoughts comforted her as she was jounced upside down over his shoulder. She only wished she had had the presence of mind to have grabbed a stone before he had hauled her off the ground.
Fitzsimmons got to the top of the hill huffing and puffing, and dumped her unceremoniously in the sedge. It rustled and prickled against her even though it was soaked. Through the partly open slits of her eyes she could see the remnants of a tumble-down cottage with one small section of roof still intact.
He towed her in by her hair. All her instincts ached to scream, but she forced herself to remain silent. Despite herself she gave a grimace of pain as he bumped her over the stone threshold and flung her down.
"You can stop pretending. I saw your eyes open." He tugged her wrists and tied them in front of her with a length of rope. Then he took a drink of water and shoved the skin at her. She took a sip, and sighed.
"When they find out I'm missing, the entire County-"
He shook his head and gave a self-satisfied smile. "The local superstition that this place is haunted has served me well over the years. No one comes here. It's not very dry, but it will do for now. Unless you'd care to tell me what I want to know, in which case we can go into the cave and stay nice and dry."
"What cave?"
"Don't bother to pretend."
"I mean it. I don't know what you're talking about. You've grabbed me out of my own home and--"
"You know what I'm talking about. Tell me now and I might go easy on you."
"I've just had a terrible fall. What makes you think, even if I ever knew anything about a cave, that I would remember?"
He shrugged at that, and took another pull from the waterskin. "It doesn't matter now. I'm prepared to wait a bit longer. If you really don't know or recall, and your husband truly hasn't confided in you, he will most certainly confide in me to get you back."
She shook her head. "He's no fool. You have no intention of letting me live. Not after you find out what you need to know. Obviously, whatever you think is in this supposed cave is important enough to kidnap for, and to kill for."
He nodded.
"So why me? What could Will know that's worth risking his wrath and that of my family and all of our friends?"
He eyed her levelly, obviously trying to gauge just how naïve she was. His underestimation of her might well be her salvation.