Page 51 of The Swan Syndicate
If Eleanor or Dame Ellingsworth were there, she’d have someone to talk to about it. They’d both known him for years. Understood how he thought and would have advice. Mary would tell her to behave more like this century’s woman and stay out of the men’s business, preferring her gentle manipulations.
She snorted. There was no way she was going to remove herself from the mission. Not at this point. Everyone knew she wasn’t one for subtlety, but she’d admit there were times when it was necessary. This moment didn’t call so much for nuance as it did for distraction. It wouldn’t last for long, but she’d take what she could get.
She watched him for several more minutes—how he held the quill, his brow furrowed as he traced a finger over the map, and the three taps of the quill on the inkpot before writing. Not two taps and not four. Always three. She’d have to try that.
Was he searching the map for something or trying to determine the smugglers’ next move? When the need for coffee outweighed her desire to watch him, she moaned and stretched, giving him time to come out of his work.
What mood would he be in?
Beckworth turned with a smile on his face. That was promising. “Morning. The coffee is still warm, but I can get itrefreshed.” He closed the inkpot. “You looked too peaceful to wake.”
She sat up, her breasts peeking over the covers as she pushed her hair back and rubbed her eyes. His eyes warmed. “Did I hear you leave earlier this morning?”
He nodded. “I couldn’t sleep and heard the crew busy on deck. I thought Jamie might be leaving port, and I wanted to send a message to Barrington before Simmons rode for Waverly.”
Stella tilted her head. The ship wasn’t rolling like it usually did at sea. “We’re still docked.”
“Yes. But we’ll be leaving in the next couple of hours.”
“MacDuff left?”
“About an hour ago, but not before receiving a shipment from Cheval.”
She crawled out of bed, and as much as she’d love to parade around nude to entice him, it was too damn cold. She pulled on her undergarments and her pants and shirt as she asked, “How do you know? Did Jamie see the handoff?”
“Fitz and Lando rowed to a point on our side of the bay before dawn.”
“Were they supposed to sit there all day?”
He chuckled as he poured her coffee. “You know how Fitz gets, what do you call it, a sixth sense about these things. I have to admit, the thought had occurred to me as well. The two men could have met for any number of reasons, assuming their meeting last night wasn’t by accident.”
“Or they could have been meeting to transfer cargo. But why take the chance in port and not do it someplace less noticeable?”
He shrugged and gave her a kiss before handing her the mug. “There’s no British patrol. And the cargo could be nothing more than restocking their stores, satisfying a previous agreement to trade supplies, or one of them lost a bet in a game of hazards.”
“So how do we know what’s in the crates?”
“We won’t know without opening them, but according to Fitz and Lando, the crates are the same size and shape as what Cheval pulled out of the cave.”
“Enough to be suspicious.” She stared at the chart. “What have you been doing?” She pulled the sheet of paper closer. Names of ports?
“Jamie has an idea of where MacDuff might go next. He wanted me to have a look.”
The names meant nothing to her. “Are these towns along the coast?”
“A few. Some are names given to coves or points. Any place where smugglers can store goods.”
She spread jam on a biscuit and nibbled it as she reviewed the chart. Jamie had told her the charts and lines reflected shorelines, longitude and latitude, and ocean features to help sailors plot their routes. She could follow a road atlas but, like most people, depended on her GPS. So, she ignored the lines and focused on the symbols that reflected ports along the coast.
She’d been so focused matching the names on the sheet of paper with points on the map that she hadn’t heard Beckworth moving about the cabin. She jumped when he placed a wrapped package on the table.
“Did you get this in town?”
She swallowed the last bite of biscuit too quickly and washed it down with coffee before she choked. “Oh my god. I forgot all about this with all the MacDuff excitement.” She patted the chair next to her. “Sit and open it.”
He gave the package a suspicious look but after a moment, he sat and gave her a side glance before searching for the best place to start unwrapping. He settled on ripping the paper from a corner. Once the paper was torn off, he tossed it to the floor.
He stared at the chess set. Without saying a word, he opened it and ran a finger over the pieces. He picked up the carved ebony queen and rubbed it between his fingers—his face a perfect mask. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen the expression and knew it was his way of hiding his emotions. And he was excellent at not providing any indication of what was running through his head.
