Page 40 of The Lord Meets His Lady
Nine
By the Alnmouth seaport…
Reinhard Wolf’s knife speared a chunk of cod. He raised the flaccid meat to eye level. Buttery sauce globbed on pallid flesh.
“Little about theEnglischsates me.” He bit the morsel and chewed quickly.
He sat with his back to a wall and an eye to the door. He’d already counted the number of men in the tavern—twelve, save Avo and himself. None were a threat. Years of soldierly habits made him mark points of egress in palaces and public houses alike.
Across the table, Avo Thade tore into a hunk of bread, talking around his food. “TheCalliopeleaves for Danzig tomorrow. We could be on it.”
“We retrieve Genevieve first. Then we leave.”
A solitary traveler eating stew peered at them over his spectacles. One stern glare sent the man back to his dinner. Alnmouth’s public house was small and quiet, a place where foreigners were easily noticed.
“Need I remind you that we do not wish to draw attention to ourselves?” Reinhard said, wiping his knife clean. Firelight shined off the lethal edge. His thumb tested it, drawing a thin red line on his skin. “I thought we were done with your insolence.”
The Frisian’s openmouthed chewing slowed, and he set his bread on the plate.
“I’m glad we came to an understanding. Now, I need numbers.”
“My report.” Avo gave a tight nod. “OurEnglischfriend provided forty Brown Besses, a thousand paper cartridges, and twelve ramrods to replace the damaged pieces. These left in a casket headed forKönigsberg. Three dead rats rest beside the guns to smell like one dead Prussian merchant going home for burial. The casket will be met by two of our men inKönigsbergto be transported for the Brotherhood.” His mouth twisted. “And we remain here, chasing one lief”—he paused and corrected his near-slip—“one woman.”
Reinhard speared another chunk of fish, smiling coldly at Avo’s quick correction. This one woman. He wasn’t required to explain how she’d gotten under his skin or how her escape needled him. Genevieve Turner belonged to him. The paper in his pocket proved it.
“And do you have numbers in your hunt for her?”
Avo smirked. “No, but I have a name, a village, and a color.”
He tipped the knife at Avo’s throat. “Quit playing games.”
A spoon clattered in a dish. The bespectacled traveler reached for his hat in his scramble to leave their side of the public house.
Chin up to avoid the knife, Avo watched the man retreat. “We are drawing attention to ourselves, no, Herr Captain?”
Reinhard lowered the knife and pushed his plate aside. He’d lost sleep. He couldn’t concentrate. Patience was a virtue he cultivated like gold, yet he was becoming short-tempered. Staring into the fire, he curled his fist on the table. Soon, word would come from the baron by way of theirEnglischfriend—an order to leave.
If he didn’t have Genevieve by then, would he defy king and country? For one woman?
Avo guzzled his ale and swiped his mouth. “She traveled under the name Miss Abbott, in a red cloak with elaborate stitching on the hood and hem. Black stitching, if you must know.”
“You are certain of this.”
“Her fur-lined cloak, the one you gave her, was in a shop near the Exchange.” Avo smirked again. “She traded it for a red cloak of lesser quality.”
“Yet you didn’t tell me until now?” Reinhard leaned forward, his cloth buttons hitting the table. Cloth buttons softened his appearance, a ploy to appear more like a common man and less soldierly.
“Because I know you prefer complete reports. It took me longer to find out the rest.”
“No,” Reinhard scoffed. “You hoped I’d give up.”
“Perhaps I did, Captain. You are too good a soldier for this, this distraction. The Brotherhood needs you.”
Reinhard sat back, both forearms braced on the table. “I didn’t think you liked me.” Not that he cared.
“I don’t.”
A rare laugh erupted. “We understand each other. What else do you have to tell me?”
“I obtained stagecoach records. She is in a village, Cornhill-on-Tweed.” Avo crossed his arms, his spine hitting the back of his chair. “OurEnglischfriend is already en route. It would seem he also wishes for you to get her and be on your way to Prussia.”
“And this village, how long to get there?”
“Six, maybe seven days of hard riding. What will you do when you find her?”
“She will come with me as planned.” Reinhard patted his chest, where paper crinkled in his pocket. “Genevieve already knows I have the means to compel her.”
