Page 30 of The Swan Syndicate
“Same as Lando and Michelson.” Fitz chewed a piece of cheese while considering whether his quick response was true. “Lane mentioned a strange group.” He lifted a chin toward Lane to continue.
Lane matched Lando in size, though not as beefy or thick around the chest, and his arms were well-muscled from working the sails. His bushy brown beard matched the color of his shaggy hair, and his nose was crooked either from a fight or a painful run-in with a yardarm.
“It wasn’t anything they said,” Lane said. “They barely spoke at all.” His voice was soft, and Beckworth leaned forward. “I’d been in the pub for about an hour when these three men strode in. They ordered ales then studied the crowd. They didn’t appear to be searching for anyone in particular, but they might have been.”
“Or looking for a guard,” Fitz suggested.
“Maybe.” Lane scratched his neck. “They stayed about fifteen minutes. When they did speak, they spoke quietly, like they were sharing a secret. It seemed odd enough to mention.”
“Were they sailors?” Beckworth asked.
Lane considered it. “Could have been, but if I had to take a quick guess, I’d say no. They looked like trouble.”
“Anything else?” Jamie waited for each of the three men to glance at each other before they all shook their heads.
“I’m afraid what Lane reported might explain something Stella heard at the inn.” Beckworth almost grinned at Stella’s surprised glance. Had she forgotten what she’d overheard? She wouldn’t have if she knew what it meant. “Does the name Cheval or a ship calledThe Horsemansound familiar to anyone?"
The men erupted into conversation as everyone talked over the other. As the voices increased in volume, Stella’s hands moved faster as she made each precise fold, which involved little thought after the number of swans she’d made over the years.
She jumped when Jamie slammed a fist on the table, even though she expected someone to do it. She’d been thinking of doing it herself to quiet the men, but her mind was racing. When she’d first heard the words Cheval and horseman, she thought it might be something the team needed to hear, but without the full context of the sentence, nothing proved the two words were connected.
When Beckworth became anxious after hearing her report, she knew she’d hit pay dirt. The fact he didn’t want to talk about it meant it was going to be bad.
While the men fussed over Stella’s unexpected discovery, she tuned them out, turned her attention to the swan, and let her mind wander. She’d always been one who preferred to live in the moment. Her childhood hadn’t been a happy one, and she’d left home as soon as she was old enough, traveling to the end of the road in northern Oregon. It was sheer luck she ended up working at a brokerage firm owned by a strong-willed woman who took pity on her and taught her the ropes.
When she found she’d inherited most of the woman’s estate after her death, she traveled south and set up her own real estate office. She’d become a successful businesswoman with a healthy bank account, her future financially set. It was a career she was passionate about—until she met Beckworth.
She worked part-time now, taking on one or two clients a month, preferring to spend her time acclimating Beckworth to his new time period. Her sabbatical from work wouldn’t last forever, but the two of them required time to learn more about the other. Their romance had been rushed and fraught with traumatic events.
She had to know if there was more to their relationship. That their confessed love hadn’t been created by their forced proximity while racing away from danger or running toward it. Would they still feel the same when faced with a normal everyday life? Would their lust-filled attraction die?
She never spoke of her uncertainty but suspected he had the same questions. For now, they were enjoying their life and their time together. And she had to admit, as AJ had discovered, that the touch of adventure and danger had sparked something inside her that had yet to be quenched.
Now, as she glanced at the men around the table, she realized their mission had somehow changed. It had become precarious, which would explain Beckworth’s unease. It wasn’t for himself. It was for her. They might have been able to set it aside when they’d been alone in their cabin, but now that the team was involved, whatever was coming would be another test in their relationship.
She also realized that the table had quieted, and everyone was staring at her. They were waiting for her report. She took a cue from Maire, who never rushed when she had important news to impart, and completed the swan she’d been working on before setting it in the center of the table.
“We’d finished our meal, and the heat from the crowd and the fire was too much. Which probably explains why the tables hadn’t been occupied. Beckworth was listening to the conversation at a nearby table and wouldn’t want me goingoutside on my own, so I went to the bar to refill our mugs. I had to get away from the fire.”
She ran a hand over her neckline as if wiping away sweat from that moment. “There were three men at the end of the bar, and I moved in between them and two old drunks who were debating the advantages of different fish bait. I couldn’t determine if the three men were locals or not and most of their words sounded garbled, but they didn’t appear drunk.”
“Speaking Welsh,” Fitz said.
“That’s what Beckworth said. I picked up a word or two, but nothing of interest, or at least nothing I could put together. I was getting ready to leave when a couple of words caught my attention. But I didn’t understand the whole sentence so wasn’t sure if they were important.” She glanced around the table. Even though Beckworth had said the words, it was apparent they wanted to hear it from her. At first, she thought she might have misunderstood, but the more she replayed the event the more she was certain of the words. The tightening of Beckworth’s jaw and the slight crease in his forehead shouted for her to get on with it.
She straightened in her seat and looked Jamie in the eye. “I heard the words Cheval and horseman. I wasn’t positive at first, but once we were outside and I had time to consider it, I had no doubts. I still don’t.”
“Dammit to hell.” Lando pounded a fist on the table and stood, almost knocking the chair over.
“Do we send a letter to Hensley?” Fitz asked.
“We need confirmation.” Jamie nodded at Fitz, who took the last bite of cheese and grabbed the remaining roll before he strode from the galley and raced up the stairs.
“Where’s he going?” Stella asked.
“He’ll check the inns and pubs to see if he hears the same from anyone else. Then he’ll check the ships forThe Horseman,” Beckworth replied.
“It never occurred to me the way they said the horseman that it could be a ship.” Stella fiddled with the edge of a new piece of paper, preparing for the first fold.
