Drake jumped down from the coach. Disgust raged through him as his gaze swept over the vine-covered windows and red front door of The Rolling Tide. He’d visited the tavern once before, upon his arrival in Charles Towne. Captain Beaufort, his distant cousin and Lieutenant Kirby’s superior officer, had brought him here to see the room where Anthony had breathed his last.
The thought stoked his anger until a red haze filled his vision. Perhaps he should have arranged to meet Beaufort elsewhere and saved himself from more bad temper, but in a strange way the place helped him feel closer to Anthony. Somehow it was less painful to cling to his fury than to think of his brother as gone forever.
Except for the short time Elise distracted him, he’d refused to quit his hunt for the Fox. Perhaps the girl’s ability to soothe his hatred, if only for a little while, was another reason she appealed to him so much.
The carriage driver, one of Beaufort’s spies, jumped down beside him.
“Your name is Goss, correct?” Drake asked.
The driver chewed the twig he’d been using to pick his buckteeth. “Aye, Your Grace, Robin Goss.”
Hearing the rube use his title, Drake arched a brow in annoyance. “Captain Beaufort must have informed you of my station. However, kindly remember not to bandy that information about. For the time being I’m simply Mr. Amberly. You may address me as such, or a simple ‘sir’ will do. Now, I understand I’m paying you a week’s wage to await me today.”
A cocky grin split the driver’s face and his calculating eyes lit with amusement.
Irritated by the man’s shifty demeanor, Drake wondered if Goss was as trustworthy as Beaufort believed. “I have instructions for you. At half past two, you’re to go to the house we departed on Church Street. Wait for the young woman I accompanied there and return her to the wharf before half past three. Wait with her until I find you. Do you understand?”
“Yup, sir, I understand. I’ll follow your instructions to the letter.”
Drake bristled at Goss’s thinly veiled sarcasm. “You do have a watch?”
“Nope, do I look like I’m made of money?” The clodhopper jabbed the air over his shoulder with his thumb. “I’ll listen for the church bells.”
“Don’t be late.”
“Never am.” The driver climbed up to his seat and positioned his foot on the brake.
Drake glanced into the coach one last time. The corner of Elise’s satchel peeked out from under the bench. He opened the door, intending to collect it, then reconsidered.
“I have a change of plans for you, Mr. Goss.” With an easy shove, Drake closed the coach’s door. “Miss Cooper has forgotten her satchel. Rather than await me here, return to the house on Church Street and deliver her belongings.”
“Do I come back here once I’m done, or do I wait for her there?”
“Leave yourself available for her. Perhaps she and her friend will have need of you this afternoon.”
The driver took up the reins. The church bells announced the noon hour. A steady flow of coaches and wagons clattered past, kicking up the thin layer of dust that covered the street’s worn bricks. Robin glanced back over his shoulder. “If she don’t choose to make use of my carriage, just deliver her to the wharf like you wanted?”
“Yes,” Drake said. “And should you do as I’ve instructed without fault, I’ll double your wage once you return Miss Cooper to me safely.”
The spy’s eyes bugged in his head. “Real pounds, none of them worthless Continentals?”
Drake took a coin from his pocket and tossed it to the driver. “Genuine sterling.”
Robin chucked his twig into the street and a grin spread from one large ear to the other. “You’ll have no reason for complaint. I swear it on my mother’s grave.”
“Brilliant.” Drake watched with satisfaction as the coach leapt forward into traffic.
Turning back to the hated tavern, he gritted his teeth. A pair of drunken redcoats threw open the heavy door and stumbled out, laughing boisterously as they passed. Drake shook his head in disgust as he watched them weave their way down the boardwalk. Foxed before noon. With gadabouts like those soldiers, it was little wonder the war had yet to be won.
He caught the door before it closed and entered The Rolling Tide. The heavy portal banged closed behind him, casting the cavernous room into near darkness. He paused a moment for his eyes to adjust. A thin cloud of smoke and the aroma of roasted lamb met him before anything else.
To his right, a fire glowed in the wide, blackened hearth where a leg of lamb turned slowly on a spit. In a far corner, a man reclined with his feet atop a table, his chin to his chest as he snored into his mug. The other patrons, mostly soldiers, raised their cups for refills as two tavern wenches flitted about with pitchers of ale.
His heart ached. Anthony had bled to death in this Spartan place. Helpless fury reared its ugly head like a dragon inside him needing to release fire. The place should be razed to the ground, its every stone smashed into dust.
Forcing himself forward, he took the steps to the second floor two at a time and knocked on the door marked with a number 3, the very room where his brother died. He’d been there before, knew the coffin of a space was hardly bigger than a closet at Hawk Haven. Loosening his collar, he longed to leave, yet his duty to Anthony nailed his boots to the floorboards.
Captain Beaufort, a tall, rigid-backed military man with sandy brown hair and deep-set dark eyes, opened the door. The captain bowed low the moment the door closed. “Good day, Your Grace. It’s an honor to serve you once more, cousin.”
“Enough with my title, Charles. I thought you understood my request for secrecy. Imagine my surprise when even your spy addressed me as ‘Your Grace.’”
“I do apologize, Your...sir. It won’t happen again. It’s just such an honor...”
Drake scanned the shabby room with its meager furniture and barren walls. Despite his show of deference, his cousin was the same dandy he’d always been. His undeserved air of self-importance grated on Drake’s nerves. He pulled out a chair, took a seat and motioned for the captain to do likewise. “I trust you have pertinent news for me this morn?”
Beaufort puffed out his chest, obviously delighted with himself. “I believe so, Your Grace. One of my spies, a frequent contact of your brother’s, met with me last night. As you know, I only suspected the Fox had connections to Brixton Hall. He confirmed the brigand frequents the plantation and may even have been at the party last evening.”
“We’re finally making progress.” Drake began an immediate mental inventory of the faces he’d seen at Brixton Hall. “It’s doubtful the Fox is Zechariah—”
“Indeed not,” Beaufort scoffed. “He’s staunchly loyal to His Majesty. Zechariah left his position in the colony’s legislature rather than cast his vote for war against the Crown. He sells his crops to British troops instead of feeding the rebels and he allows his townhouse here in Charles Towne to be used as barracks for many of my officers.”
Deep in thought, Drake rejected several other candidates. All of them were older, keen of mind but soft around the middle, hardly fit to traipse about the city in disguise. He considered the free servants, deciding on a few to watch, but rejected the slaves as prospects, since he doubted the Africans would have the necessary freedom to roam the countryside without Sayer’s knowledge.
Elise came to mind, not because she might be the Fox, but because his thoughts seemed to wander in her direction with a will of their own. He savored her image, then frowned when he remembered Christian. “Perhaps it’s the son.”
“Again, most doubtful,” said Beaufort. “Christian Sayer has a sterling reputation. He served in the Tory brigade before he fell from a horse and injured his leg last summer. I’d stake my life on the whole family’s loyalty. There must be someone else. One of the freeman on the estate, a frequent visitor or another relative we haven’t yet met.”
“Perhaps you’re right,” Drake agreed, still suspicious of Christian. The puppy had looked hale and hearty to him the previous night. “Zechariah invited me to stay a fortnight. I may have to prevail upon him for the whole of it.”
“Perhaps we should be honest with the Sayers,” Beaufort suggested. “Tell them what we suspect and glean from them what we can.”
“No.” Drake moved to the window. “Before going to Zechariah, I think it best to watch Christian for a time. You may trust him, but I do not. There’s something about him that seems peculiar. He displays an open personality, but there’s a dark quality beneath his sunny facade.”
Drake looked out over the busy street and the pair of frayed horses tethered in front of the tavern. “We’ll leave this matter between the two of us for the time being.”
“But sir...”
Beaufort’s argument droned on, but Drake heard no more once he saw Elise and Tabby Smith arrive in a mule-drawn wagon.
Elise handed the reins to Tabby while her friend set the brake. Drake admired Elise’s graceful movements as she climbed down from the wagon. Her glorious dark hair hung in a thick rope to below her trim waist and glowed in the bright daylight. He was certain she grew lovelier each time he saw her.
She seemed to be in a hurry, agitated. He didn’t see her satchel and he suspected she and Goss had passed each other on the road. She started round the front of the building, as though she meant to go to the side alley, then stopped, retraced her steps, and helped her pregnant friend down from the wagon.
Drake undid the latch and pressed opened the lead glass window. “Miss Cooper,” he called, just loud enough to be heard over the clatter of traffic.
Elise froze as though his voice were a gunshot. Her gaze flew to the upper story of the tavern. “Drake!”
She raised her hand to block the sun from her eyes. It surprised her to realize how much happiness lurked beneath the initial alarm of Drake catching her there. Was it possible to actually miss someone she’d seen such a short time ago? “Did you happen upon my satchel, Mr. Amberly? I believe I left it in the coach.”
He raised his hand to his ear as though he hadn’t been able to hear her, but she was sure she’d spoken loud enough. “One moment, I’ll meet you below downstairs.”
“There’s no need,” she assured him, but he’d already gone.
In front of the tavern, Elise balked at the door. She’d hoped to find the coach waiting outside, enabling her to retrieve her belongings and leave without Amberly ever being the wiser. She should have known better; her luck of late had been spotty at best. “You know I vowed I’d never step foot in The Tide again, Tabby. Just being here is a nightmare.”
Tabby took her elbow and dragged Elise a few steps forward. “I know this is difficult for you, but you have to—”
“Do what I must. Yes, I know Tabby, but...” Her stomach rolled in rebellion. “But, I don’t think I can.”
“Of course you can.” Tabby reached for the door’s large brass knob. “How will you explain to your Englishman if you run off like a ninny?”
Tabby pulled the door halfway open. Hearty conversation spilled from inside. Elise stepped back, skittish as a calf on market day. “First of all, he’s not my Englishman. Second, he believes I’m a proper young lady. I... I’ll tell him I have Puritan beliefs. That I’d be ashamed to step foot in a tavern.”
Tabby bit back a giggle. “A good Christian girl you may be, but a Puritan? He’ll not believe it.”
Without further ado, Tabby yanked the door open wide and, with a push, sent Elise reeling into the tavern’s main room. “See? You’re in.”
Elise straightened. Her eyes narrowed on Tabby. “You’re an evil woman, Tabby Smith. To think I thought you were my friend.”
Tabby laughed. “Discounting Prin and Christian, you know I’m the best friend you’ve got.”
Disgruntled, Elise said nothing, since Tabby spoke the truth.
A bright smile lit her friend’s face. “There’s my sweet husband.”
Elise turned to see Josiah Smith approaching them. “Goodness, Tabby, what shall I say if Amberly realizes you’re Josiah’s wife? I told him the place was terrible and you claimed no knowledge of it beyond the food. Surely, he’ll question our silence.”
Tabby patted her arm. “I’ll say nothing and I’ll warn Josiah. He won’t give away the game.”
“There’s my beautiful girl,” Josiah said as he ambled forward, his leather apron stretched across his belly. After a quick greeting to Elise, he gave his wife a hearty embrace and led her toward the kitchen.
Elise envied their close bond, and wished a similar one for herself, but felt sadly convinced she’d never find that kind of love and mutual admiration.
Her heart leapt with excitement when she saw Drake at the base of the stairs. Her gaze traveled leisurely over his face, admiring his straight nose, the rakish scar along his jaw, the darkness of his sun-drenched skin.
His mouth turned in the cool half smile she’d begun to find endearing. Their eyes met and locked. Seeing the laughter in his eyes, she realized she’d been staring like a goose and he’d caught her at it. There was nothing else for her to do but hope he wouldn’t mention it.
Ha! He’ll probably crow all day long.
Elise tore her gaze away and brushed her damp palms in a smoothing motion down the front of her skirt. The man was driving her mad. Despite her best efforts to cover the fact, he seemed to understand how much she favored him. Against her will, her eyes slid back to his face.
As he crossed the room, she admired his inborn confidence. His piercing gaze held her as if he owned her. She felt caught but lacked the will to escape. Begrudgingly, her admiration for him grew.
Tabby returned to her. “Wake up. Do you want your Englishman to think your body has mutinied against your brain?”
“Don’t be addled.” Elise dug her fingernails into her palm to regain her composure. She noticed Josiah had stayed in the kitchen.
Drake reached her and enveloped her hands in his. “What a pleasant surprise. I thought I’d be deprived of your company for most of the day.”
The warmth in his eyes made her feel more light-hearted than she had in years, an odd sensation to be sure, given the severity of her circumstances. “I left my belongings in the coach. I wished to fetch them back.”
He reached out as though he couldn’t contain the action, and brushed a lock of hair from her brow. “I assumed you would need the contents and returned the carriage to Mrs. Smith’s. You must have passed it on the road.”
She glanced at her friend. “I didn’t see it on our way here, did you?”
“I doubt I’d have recognized it if I had,” her friend admitted. “To me, one hired carriage looks the same as all the others.”
“When did you send it?” Elise asked Drake.
“The church bells rang twelve just as he left.”
“Was the driver to return here?”
“No, I told him to wait for you in case you needed him this afternoon. I also instructed him to deliver you to the dock in time for the ferry.”
Elise felt herself soften toward him. “That was very thoughtful of you, Mr. Am—”
“Drake,” he insisted.
She gave in against her better judgment. “Drake. I appreciate your kindness.”
Tabby cleared her throat. “I hate to interrupt the two of you when you’re so intent on one another, but we’re drawing strange looks standing here in the center of the room.”
At that bold reminder, Elise pulled away until Drake had to release her hand. “Then perhaps we should leave. We need to find the coach.”
“That won’t do,” Drake protested. “I’m certain the driver will return here once he realizes you’re no longer in residence. If you leave now, it’s more than likely you’ll miss him again.”
“If he doesn’t run off with the satchel instead,” Tabby said as Drake pulled out a chair and shuffled Elise into it.
“Miss Cooper assures me I’m paying him well to await me today.” He rounded the table and helped Tabby settle before taking a seat for himself. “I’ve paid him half of what we agreed. I have no doubt he’ll return for the balance. It’s only a matter of time before he revisits with your things.”
Josiah hovered a foot away. “You there,” Tabby spoke up, drawing her husband’s attention. “What are you serving today? I’ve always found the fare you serve pleasant enough, but my good companions here have heard mixed reviews.” She grinned at Elise. “However, good food or not, I’m eating for two and I suppose I’ll have to take my chances.”
Josiah looked affronted but played along. Obviously Tabby had taken the chance to warn him. “A pox on the liar that slandered my tavern, ma’am. It just so happens you’re in the finest eating establishment in all Charles Towne. Let me fetch Louise. She’ll serve you some dumplings while I prepare a platter of lamb.”
Tabby shooed him away with the wave of her hand. “Be quick about it then. I’d hate to have this babe before I get to eat, no matter how bad the food may prove to be.”
Elise ducked her head and covered her laughter by coughing into her hand. Josiah headed in the direction of the kitchen, muttering under his breath about the unfortunate man who’d married such a harpy.
“Well,” Tabby huffed. “The service leaves much to be desired. I hope I was misled about the food or this place will have nothing to recommend it.”
Louise, a buxom blonde, approached the table from the direction of the kitchen. She balanced the heavy tray she carried on the edge of the table and plunked a pewter mug in front of each of them.
“I’ll have water to drink,” Tabby said when Louise poured cider for Drake.
“Aye, mum,” Louise replied, her cockney accent as thick as a loaf of bread. Elise knew the woman had arrived fresh from London less than six months earlier. Josiah must have warned Louise not to acknowledge Tabby as anyone but a common customer and not his wife. The woman ignored Elise and Tabby completely but favored Drake with a sultry promise in her wide blue eyes. She made a show of bending close so that her billowy blouse gapped open just so.
Elise narrowed her eyes and nearly gave in to the urge to pinch the flirt. To Drake’s credit, she noted he did his best to ignore the eye-popping display. His restraint impressed her and her respect for him raised another notch.
“I believe I have enough,” he said drily, reaching up to tip the pitcher away before his mug overflowed. “Any more and the table will enjoy quite a dousing.”
“Oi!” the blonde exclaimed. “Ye’re jus so ’andsome I lost ev’ry thought in me poor little ’ead.”
The barmaid sloshed cider into Tabby’s mug, but nearly missed Elise’s altogether. “Wait right ’ere. I be bringing yer dumplin’s sooner an ye can blink.”
The blonde backed away from the table and rushed in the direction of the kitchen, looking over her shoulder at Drake until she ploughed into a redcoat and got a hearty shove for her trouble.
“Serves her right,” Tabby muttered. “She gave me cider when I asked for water. That girl needs a good comeuppance.”
Josiah returned with the platter of roasted lamb. Fresh herbs adorned the top and added to the mouthwatering aroma. “Where are your dumplings? I sent Louise to fetch them. She should have brought them out by now.”
“She got...distracted,” Elise answered. “I fear we’d best hurry and feed my friend. We’ve waited so long she’s going to faint from starvation.”
Josiah’s eyes filled with concern as he focused on his wife. Elise felt guilty for teasing him. “Are you truly ill, missus? If so, I’ll—”
“I’m fine,” Tabby assured him. “Just hungry.”
He nodded. “My wife is expecting and she complains of the same without ceasing. She used to be such a tiny little thing. Now she rivals my horse in size and my arms have ceased to fit around her.”
Elise stifled another giggle. Tabby’s look promised retribution.
“I’ll go help Louise with the rest of your meal,” Josiah said. “I promise I’ll hurry.”
“Don’t forget the greens,” Tabby called after him. She settled back in her chair once he waved that he’d heard her over the rumble of the other patrons. “So, Mr. Amberly, what brings you to this part of the Colonies? Are you an adventure seeker out to make a name for yourself in the war?”
Drake set down his mug. He smiled politely, but his eyes were inscrutable. “I’m here on business, Mrs. Smith. I wish to reestablish shipping contracts now that Charles Towne is free of the rebels’ hold.”
“Really?” Tabby replied wide-eyed. “I understood the rebels are everywhere.” She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “Why, I’m as loyal as can be, but I admit I’ve got a soft spot in my heart for the Fox.”
Elise’s stomach twisted sickly.
Drake leaned forward, his interest palpable. “What do you know of him, Mrs. Smith? I’ve heard he’s a cheeky fellow. Some inept farmer who survives on luck alone.”
Elise took exception to that. “No doubt you heard such from the redcoats who’ve failed to catch him.”
“No doubt,” he said. “Do you know otherwise?”
“Goodness, no. Why would I know anything about the man?”
Tabby giggled. “Elise know anything about the Fox? How very funny.”
Louise delivered a large steaming pot of dumplings and a smaller one of greens topped with ham. “There you be, sir. I ’ope it’s to yer liking.”
“I’m sure it will be,” Elise cut in deliberately. She gave the girl a hard, meaningful look and pointed across the room. “I believe the soldiers at yonder table need their mugs refilled.”
The girl pouted as she left. Elise picked up her spoon to sample Tabby’s light, fluffy specialty when Josiah lumbered over to the edge of the table. He motioned toward the door, where a man stood in the shadows. “There’s a hired man waiting by the door. Says he knows you, miss. Claims he has some of your belongings.”
“My satchel!” Elise jumped up, causing her chair to grate on the wood floor. “I’ll be right back.” She shot across the room, anxious to lay hold on the important letters.
She recognized the hack driver once she got close enough to see his face. The man’s buckteeth flashed into prominence as he shifted the leather case, angling it behind his back. She held out her hand. “Thank you for returning my things.”
He retreated a step. “I’m thinking I deserve more than your thanks, Miss.”
Her brow furrowed in confusion. “Really? How so? What is it you think you deserve?”
His suggestive glance made her skin crawl. Annoyed, she bit back a scathing retort and held out her hand. “I suggest, sir, that you keep your mind out of the gutter and give me my satchel...unless you’d rather I call my friend.”
The yokel peered over her shoulder. She was certain he could see Amberly’s formidable presence. The driver’s leer faded into sour resignation. “I’m thinking I deserve a reward.”
“How so?” Elise inquired. “You’re being paid to wait the day. By rights I should be able to leave my belongings in the coach if I like.”
“Your friend seemed to think this here satchel was important to you.”
“Of course it’s important,” she snapped. “For interest’s sake, how much reward do you require?”
The driver studied the tips of his fingers. His eyes narrowed to sly slits. “A hundred pounds.”
She gasped. “Are you crazed?”
“Crazed? Nah. I’m thinking it’s a fair sum considering how much I could get for your letters if I took ’em to the Redcoats.”
Her heart picked up speed. “What on earth do you mean?”
“Just that I can read between the lines, so to speak.”
“Then you must be a soothsayer, for there’s nothing between the lines but parchment.”
The man regained some of his boldness. “Aye, unless there’s a flame nearby.”
Anxiety cut through her. This shifty, obnoxious hack driver had somehow discovered the letters’ invisible ink. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He shook his head, his upper lip twisted in a sneer. “Don’t make the mistake of thinking I’m a lackwit just because I’m hired help. Seems we’re both more than we appear. Why don’t we step outside?”
“I can’t.” Elise sent a covert glance toward Drake, who studied them with keen regard. Tabby chatted cheerfully in an unsuccessful ploy to sway his interest from her and the driver. “My companions will question why I’ve gone.”
The driver tugged on his earlobe and scowled. “I’m thinking I’ll keep this here satchel till you can lay hold of the funds. You can tell your fancy gent I’m holding it for safe keeping.”
“That won’t do.”
Drake stood and started toward them. Her nerves jangled in alarm. If he interrupted, would the driver call on the redcoats in the tavern and give her away? “Take the satchel to the back alley. I’ll meet you there as soon as I’m able.”
“You’re not going to try anything smart, are you? If you do, I’ll take it up with the Brits.”
“I’ll not try anything smart,” she assured him. “I just want my case and all its contents. Now go!”
With a sharp nod, he left, causing her to squint when he opened the door and a bright ray of light stabbed the darker interior.
Elise headed back to her companions, dodging various patrons as they stood abruptly from their seats. Drake waited for her a few feet from their table, his expression lined with concern.
Once she reached him, Drake pulled out her chair. She remained standing, offering a shrug when Tabby sent her a glance rife with questions. “I’m sorry, but I must excuse myself for a few moments more.”
Drake reached for her hand. A surge of warmth shot up her arm and traveled straight to her heart. She held her breath as his dark eyes searched her face.
“Is all well with you?” he asked quietly. His thumb brushed her knuckles in a soothing manner. “I notice you have yet to retrieve your satchel.”
“Every...everything’s fine. I—”
“I believe,” said Tabby, pointing toward the back of the tavern, “the privies are that way. You’ll have to leave by the front door since the only other passage to the back is through the kitchen.”
Elise sighed with relief, grateful for Tabby’s quick thinking, even if her suggestion was a trifle embarrassing. She excused herself without further comment, and wove her way back through the maze of chairs, tables and customers to the front door.
Stepping into the heat and sunshine, she exchanged the raucous laughter inside for the noise of passing wagons and carriages. The wind caught her hair as she hurried around the corner into the side alley. She wrinkled her nose at the rancid smell. Ants covered rotting food and a picked-over ham bone while rats scurried away, abandoning their decayed feasts of fruit when she stepped too near.
Rounding the back of the tavern, she remembered the large group of redcoats waiting for her the night of Hawk’s death. Bile rose in her throat.
A few feet ahead, her newest adversary leaned against the brick wall, one leg bent at the knee while he chewed his thumbnail. He noticed her arrival and straightened, his insolent sneer firmly in place.
Elise stopped just out of his reach. “I’ve only now excused myself from my friends. I need a few moments more to collect the sum you’ve demanded.”
He picked at his large front teeth while he mulled things over. “You happen to be in luck. I’ve got just a few more minutes to spare. You best hurry though, else I’ll start thinking you’re playing me for a fool.”
“I assure you I’m not. I’ll return shortly.”
Without waiting for his reply, she rushed through the tavern’s back door. Bright light shone through the open windows, but even the breeze couldn’t dispel the room’s odor of stale ale and wood smoke. Pewter dishes and a cast iron skillet sat staked on a rough-hewn table near a large bucket of soapy water. Nearby a straw broom leaned against the wall, a small hill of crumbs and dust beside it.
The other serving girl, Alice, hoisted a large platter filled with steaming bowls of dumplings to her shoulder. “Miss Cooper? What are you doing back here in the kitchen? I thought I saw you with Mrs. Smith in the tavern room.”
“You did, Alice. Tell me, where is Josiah? I need to speak with him. It’s urgent.”
The other girl returned her tray to the counter. “I’ll get him for you. Be back in a rush.”
Elise watched her go, willing her to hurry. She ran to the window, her nerves carrying her there to see if the hack driver still waited.
Josiah burst through the door several moments later. “What is it, Elise? Alice says you’re mighty distressed.”
“We must keep our voices low,” she said, accepting his outstretched hands. “I fear I’m in one of the most prickly spots I’ve ever tripped into.”
“Tell me,” he whispered. “You know I’ll do everything I can to help.”
She quickly related the details of the situation. “Now the weasel is demanding one hundred pounds for my letters, or he’ll seek out the authorities.”
Josiah looked thunderous. “The dirty scoundrel! A hundred pounds is a fortune, Elise. The Tide is prosperous to be sure, but I don’t have a sum like that just lying about. If I had it, you know I’d give it to you without a qualm, but I haven’t.”
She chewed on her lower lip and noticed the agony in his expression. She hated drawing him into her problems at all. “Don’t trouble yourself, Josiah, truly. I have no doubts you’d help me if you could.”
Josiah’s face lit up in sudden realization. “Perhaps I can help.”
“How?”
“I’ll have Matthew and John fetch your belongings for you.”
She shook her head. “They’re liable to kill him. I know he’s a thief and a scoundrel, but...”
“Such an outcome would solve your problems.”
She frowned, remembering Hawk. “No, I want no more blood on my hands.”
“You’ll have no blood at all if he goes to the Brits. Corpses don’t need it.”
“Josiah, please stop. I must figure a way out of this pickle with no one dying in the process.”
He crossed his arms, rubbing his chin as he thought through a plan. “Does this driver know your name or anything concerning you except your appearance?”
“I don’t believe so,” she replied. “Even the letters bear a false signature.”
“Good,” he said, nodding his satisfaction. “John and Matthew will collect him—”
“But—”
He held up his hand, halting her argument. “Let me finish. I’ll have the two of them collect the scum. He’ll be hurt no more than a good thump on the head. We’ll keep him in a warehouse near the wharf until we know you’re safe. Even if he goes to the Brits once we release him, he’ll have no evidence. The letters will be gone. With the lads dragging him off, he won’t be able to point a finger to any involvement here. He doesn’t know your name. Without conclusive proof, he has nothing.”
The back door swung open. Elise jerked in surprise. Her nemesis popped his head inside. “There you are. I thought I’d have to hunt you down.”
She faced him, hoping she blocked his view of Josiah. The fewer people he could identify as helping her, the better. “As you can see, I’m here. I need a few minutes more.”
He stretched his neck, trying to see who stood behind her. “You’ve had all the time I’m willing to give you.”
“You can’t be serious,” she argued. “You’re demanding a fortune. Do you believe I carry that sum on my person? I have to be given some time.”
The driver’s mouth tightened into a straight line, but the tips of his buckteeth overlapped his bottom lip, giving him the appearance of a rodent. “I’ll give you until the church bells sound two, but not a moment longer.” As he turned to leave, his eyes assaulted her with lecherous intent. “If you don’t have it by then, we’ll discuss what else you’ve got to buy my silence. Either way, I’ll be waiting in my carriage.”
“Just one more question,” Elise said, squelching the desire to spit in his face. He glanced at her from over his bony shoulder. “How did you learn to read between the lines?”
“That’s my secret.”
“Very well, but why did you suspect me and my letters?” She wanted to shake the information out of him.
“I didn’t suspect you. Who would, you being such a pretty wench and all? I was looking for coin when I found them in those knitted blankets. You don’t need to know any more ’an that.”
He left, whistling a merry tune. Once he’d gone, Josiah growled, “I’ll send the lads to meet him. The ferret’ll never know what hit him.”
Elise waited as long as she dared before leaving the kitchen. She offered a prayer Drake wouldn’t question why she’d been gone so long. She hurried along the back of the tavern, slipping once on a mildew-covered rock. When she arrived at the front door, she inhaled a deep breath and steadied her nerves. Brushing her moist palms down the front of her skirt, she combed her fingers through her hair and adopted a serene air.
Inside the tavern, a group of men played darts. As she neared the table, she saw Louise hovering behind Drake, pitcher in hand to refill his cup if he took even the smallest sip. He seemed unaware of the blonde’s attentions as he spoke with Tabby.
He smiled when he saw her, a flash of white teeth that lit up his lean face. Elise brightened in return, surprised by the sense of safety he provided.
He stood when she drew near, his conversation forgotten. “I feared Mrs. Smith and I might need to form a search party.”
She forced a giggle as she took her seat, trying and failing to hide behind her usual mask of frivolity. “Oh, I’m sorry to be gone so long, but I met up with an acquaintance and we had much to discuss.” At least that wasn’t a lie.
Tabby tsked her disapproval. “A sillier girl I’ve yet to meet. Didn’t you think it rude to abandon one group of friends for another?”
“I didn’t abandon you,” Elise protested, thankful for Tabby’s attempt to divert Drake from asking deeper questions. “What would you have me do, ignore my friend?”
“You did well enough ignoring us.”
Elise smiled sweetly. “Tabby, please do remind me to push you off a pier some day.”
“Ladies, ’tis a pity to see the likes of such good friends quarreling. Mrs. Smith, surely we waited no longer than a quarter of an hour. Who among us hasn’t been waylaid from time to time by an inopportune acquaintance?”
Elise made a face at her friend. “Yes, who among us hasn’t?”
Tabby snorted. “I should have known you’d come to her aid, Mr. Amberly. If you’re anything like other men, you’ve already been overpowered by her charms.”
“Tabby!” Elise reddened with mortification. “Please, do be quiet. Mr. Amberly’s no more enamored of me than I am with him.”
Tabby grinned at Drake. “I wouldn’t take a wager on that, my friend.”
“Nor would I,” Drake said, his deep voice as stimulating as a caress. His dark eyes bored into hers and for a moment Elise sat transfixed. “But if you’d like to lose your coin, my girl, I’m game.”
Tabby’s laughter broke the spell. “You’d best close your mouth, Elise. Hanging open as it is, you’ll draw in flies.”
Elise snapped her mouth shut, her face as hot as fire. “Are the two of you quite tired of poking fun at me? Is this some sort of punishment for my taking too long at the privy?”
Tabby giggled harder, her pregnant belly shaking with mirth. Elise sighed and handed her friend a napkin. “Do stop, Tabby. It wasn’t that funny.”
Her friend dabbed at her eyes. “I’m so sorry. It’s just... Elise...your face.” She fell into another fit of laughter. “Goodness, now I’m the one who has to visit the privy.”
Elise helped Tabby lever herself out of the chair in spite of her teasing. When her friend was out of earshot, Elise’s gaze slunk back to Drake. “I’m sorry about that. My friend has an odd sense of humor.”
He eased her hand into his larger one. “I’m sorry if you were embarrassed, but your friend is right. I’m captivated by you.”
Speech deserted her. His sincerity rang true and yet her instincts assured her Drake Amberly wasn’t a man given to shallow feelings or light declarations. Never in her life had she wanted to believe a man so much.
Yet she couldn’t afford romantic attachments. No matter how fascinating she found him, she would have to deny the attraction. She’d learned that those she loved became pawns in Zechariah’s game to bend her to his will. She removed her hand from his grasp, regretting the loss that same instant. A cheer from the soldiers playing darts erupted behind her. Drake leaned back in his chair. The tip of his finger circled the edge of his mug as he watched her from under lush downcast lashes. “I see I’ve spoken too soon, but I’m not a man easily dissuaded once I find something I want.”
The faint sound of church bells jolted her with a reminder of her satchel. “What time is it?”
Drake extracted his watch from the pocket of his waistcoat. “Two o’clock.”
She scanned the smoky tavern. Josiah was nowhere to be seen. The bell tolled a second time. Her agitation increased. Her hands balled into fists in her lap. Where was he? Had Matthew and John failed to retrieve her belongings...or was the driver on his way to the Brits with the evidence that could hang her?