Page 135 of The Devil of Clan Sinclair
Perhaps it was best if he wasn’t here, though, wherever here was.
Someone was at the door. She turned her head with difficulty to see a tall young man with a shock of black hair and intent eyes staring at her.
She knew him. A moment later she remembered. He was the man in the carriage.
He handed a metal box to Paul, who placed it on the floor beside the bunk.
“I hadn’t intended to bring you along, William,” Paul said. “But you’ve proved invaluable to me.” He opened the box, retrieved a few coins, and placed them in the younger man’s palm. “See if the captain has any accommodations in steerage.”
“I’d rather be a skipper than chained to a scurf,” William said. “ ’Specially one who drugs a nemmo. It’s a crooked cross. Besides, I never said I was for America.”
“You’d have a future there, a better one than on the London streets.”
“I’d rather be in for a vamp,” William said. “I’ll take this, though,” he added, rolling the coins on his palm.
With that, he disappeared.
Paul stared after him for a moment, then slammed the door.
“Ungrateful whelp,” he said. He turned toward her, smiling in an odd way. “But you, my dear, you’re a different matter, aren’t you? I think you’re going to show your gratitude soon.”
“Please,” she said, “I want to go home.”
“Rest, my dear. You’re not going anywhere without me. Ever.”
He left the room, closing the door softly behind him.
She lay on the bunk, drawing her knees in, fear enclosing her. A wave of dizziness overcame her, and she found herself sinking into nothingness again.
Chapter 32
From what Hannah overheard, Henderson had already booked passage to America. Macrath hoped he’d reasoned this out correctly and Henderson wasn’t on the way to Inverness or Edinburgh. If he’d been in Henderson’s position and kidnapped someone, he’d opt to set sail quickly to lessen the chance of being apprehended.
Kinloch Harbor was deep enough to berth large ships, some of which were bound for foreign ports.
Since pubs were no longer permitted to open on Sunday, a few of the ships served as taverns, fitted up with tables, stools, and enough whiskey to satisfy hundreds of thirsty sailors.
When Jack went to find the harbormaster, Macrath questioned the drinkers at the dockside taverns.
At the first, no one recalled seeing anything out of the ordinary. In the second, however, one man remembered seeing a carriage.
“In the way of being in a hurry, it was,” he said.
“Do you remember any of the occupants?”
The man shook his head. “Didn’t see ’em. You might want to ask the lad over there,” he said. “Stranger to Kinloch. Came in a little while ago.”
Macrath went to stand at the table, directly in front of the man sitting there alone. The man didn’t look up, concentrating on the tankard clutched in one fist.
“I’m looking for a man named Henderson. Do you know him?”
“What’s he done?”
An odd question for a stranger to ask.
“Why do you think he’s done something?”
“I want to go back to London,” the man said. “I’d rather be in my own rookery than here.”
