Page 113 of The Moonstone Pirate
As improbable as it may seem, Imogen’s suspicions had to be correct. Otherwise, McTavish would have first asked abouthisgetting shot andnotabout Eldridge’s horse being stolen.
And now, all the pieces of this puzzle were fitting into place.
Draco knew what he had to do.
He sipped his ale as he told McTavish about Walter, the village sot and all around no-account who had stolen the stallion on a lark and ridden him here. “He discharged his pistol into the window of the local tea shop and then rode away.”
Draco omitted mention of his flesh wound or that he required stitches. His skin felt raw, and those stitches still burned like blazes along his arm. Perhaps he ought to have taken some laudanum for the pain, but it was too late to think of that now.
He also omitted mention of Imogen, who had been seated beside him when the incident occurred. McTavish must have known anyway, for those details would have been told to him by anyone he bothered to ask.
“I found the horse abandoned in a meadow and brought it back to the Kestrel Inn stable,” Draco said, once again keeping asclose to the truth as possible. “The local constable found Walter trying to hide out in an abandoned fox den and brought him back here. Walter is now sleeping it off in one of the fort’s cells.”
McTavish frowned. “Why the fort?”
“He stole a valuable horse,” Draco said. “Eldridge is going to see him hanged. Walter has every incentive to escape, and the local gaol will never hold him.”
McTavish took a healthy sip of his ale and then set down the mug. “That’s quite a story.”
“Yes, it is.”
“When is Eldridge due here to reclaim his horse?”
Draco sensed the Irishman’s growing concern about the rebel plot, and he was more than happy to encourage his doubts. “Assuming he comes himself to collect the beast, probably not until tomorrow. Major Brennan sent one of his men off early this morning to deliver the good news. A day’s ride to Thurlestone, and another day to return, is what I estimate. Although Eldridge may already be on the trail of the stolen horse, in which case he will arrive sooner. Perhaps within the hour. Why do you ask?”
McTavish shrugged and then tossed him a mischievous smile. “Maybe I am thinking of stealing the beast.”
Draco laughed. “What would you do with a horse on board your ship? Especially one the size of that Friesian. You cannot carry enough hay in your hold to satisfy him. And nobody is ever going to buy him from you for fear of being accused of theft and being hanged themselves. That horse is too distinctive. You’ll have more luck attempting to sell the Crown jewels.”
“Now that’s an idea worth pursuing,” McTavish said in jest.
Draco leaned forward. “Yes, just as stupid as this rebel plot you’ve got yourself mixed up in. But enough small talk. What is your plan for delivering those crates? There’ll be a new moon next week, easy for you to sail into my cove under coverof darkness. Will your men unload the crates? Do they need assistance from mine?”
“No assistance. We’ll deposit all the goods in your cave. You needn’t be present. We’ve seen the layout. I don’t need you waving a lantern or doing anything to give us away. I know where the shoals are located in your cove and will avoid them.”
“All right. That’s one end taken care of.”
McTavish nodded. “I’ll make the second delivery the following week.”
“I’ve only agreed to the one, so far.”
“C’mon, Draco. Don’t be difficult. There’s only the second, and you will have it precisely one week from the first delivery. Same terms. I bring the men who will do the unloading. You do not need be around. Just keep your people away from the caves.”
“Not a problem. No one ever goes near them. I’ve spread word they are crumbling and dangerous.”
“Good.” McTavish raised his mug to order a refill, then thanked William when he came over to fill it. He waited for William to walk out of earshot before continuing. “Always pays to be polite to the help. Don’t want to attract particular attention.”
Draco gave a snort and took a sip of his ale. “You and your crew have been noticed by one and all. This is a small place, and everyone minds everybody else’s business. The less time you spend here, the better. Now, tell me about the pickup. Whom should I expect? How am I to be paid? Will they need my men to load the crates onto their wagons?”
“Plans have changed slightly. You’ll be contacted by a Mr. Gray or a Mr. Sewell, who will arrange the pickup and payment directly with you.”
“Those solicitors from Exeter?”
McTavish eyed him warily. “Yes, how did you know?”
Draco drained his mug. “They were in the tea shop with their wives when Walter shot out the window. We exchanged pleasantries. So, they are the agents? I knew they were involved but never would have guessed this was their role. They seemed too genteel to get their hands dirty.”
McTavish was now decidedly on edge. “Who did you suspect?”
