by Kim Allred
The man turned the chair, so the back braced against the table. He sat and crossed his arms over the back of the chair. "Finn Murphy. I heard you were dead."
"Valentin. The same could be said of you."
Valentin rested his gaze on Ethan, giving him a long perusal. A barmaid dropped another mug on the table and giggled when the smuggler grabbed her waist, pulling her in for a kiss. He whispered in her ear, then patted her backside as she sauntered off. He turned his attention back to Finn. "I didn't see your ship."
"It has a new captain now."
Valentin's brows lifted. "I didn't think to see the day that the Daphne Marie would sail with a different captain while you still walked the earth."
"Better circumstances presented themselves."
"Indeed. So what brought you to this sleepy port?"
"We need passage to England."
The old smuggler gave Ethan a quick slide glance. "That is a very dangerous and a very expensive proposition."
Finn nodded. "My friend has urgent business there." He rubbed his jaw and studied Valentin in turn. The man hadn't changed much since Finn had last seen him. The gray streaks were new, and his eyes crinkled with deeper lines from his natural humor, but in all, he was the same rogue that found more than his share of beauties in ports on both sides of the channel. The man shared the same innate skill as Finn to make influential and powerful friends. "We were supposed to meet another ship but we were…" Finn glanced around the room before lowering his voice, "temporarily detained and the ship couldn't wait."
"Did someone tell you I was coming?"
The words were spoken lightly, but Finn could hear the edge in his tone. He shook his head. "I've been watching the docks, waiting for someone I could trust with my coin." Finn caught Ethan's smile and shake of his head at Finn's choice of words.
Valentin laughed. "Trust comes at a high price these days." When Finn only smiled, the smuggler drank from his mug. He rubbed his chin as he gave Ethan another hard stare. "You have the coin?"
Finn nodded.
"This isn't the best time for me to be taking on English." Valentin drained his mug before staring into its empty depths.
A minute went by, but Finn waited, keeping his eye on Ethan, who had the good sense to stay quiet.
Valentin barked out a laugh. "Do you remember that small village just west of Calais?"
It was Finn's turn to take a moment before the memory returned. He grinned like a schoolboy. "I remember a certain lass who clobbered you over the head and left you for dead for trying to leave without paying."
The smuggler's gaze took on a dreamy state. "She was a fiery one. One might think she had some Irish blood in her." He leaned close. "She still keeps my bed warm on cold winter nights."
Finn slapped him on the arm. "You always liked the feisty ones."
Valentin dropped his smile. "I'll make an exception for you, Murphy. But this will set the books even."
"Agreed."
"Do you know where the smithy is?"
Finn nodded.
Valentin stood. "We leave at dawn. Be there an hour before." Without another word, he strode off as quietly as he'd arrived.
Ethan lifted a brow. "I don't have a good feeling about this."
Finn's signature grin returned as he stood. "It's not Valentin we need to worry about. It's the French inspection if my old friend hasn't paid the toll."
13
AJ squinted into the wind as she braced herself against the bow of the Daphne Marie. Her hair caught the mist of the sea as the ship sliced through the water. She clutched her necklace, Finn ever-present on this ship that she'd always think of as his. Even if they hadn't been split apart as abruptly as they had, standing on his ship, remembering the times they'd shared on her decks and below, he would always be foremost in her thoughts. She continued to second guess her decision to leave the monastery. Would it have been so bad to wait a few more weeks in case they had followed her wake through the fog?
Her final discussions with Sebastian and Jaime on the rocky shore of France had made sense. It was equally possible that Ethan had used his newer incantation, and he and Finn had landed somewhere in England. If they didn't meet somewhere on their journey, they would all gravitate toward the earl's estate. Assuming she made it across the channel. A sharp whistle broke her concentration, and she turned to see Fitz, Jamie's second mate. A smile lightened his gruff face as he pointed up. She nodded and tucked the necklace back in her secret pocket before pushing her hair back as she secured her hat with thin leather strips under her chin. Fitz had helped her sew on the straps so the hat wouldn't fly off while protecting her skin from the deceptive winter sun.
She repositioned the small leather pouch Lando had given her over her shoulder and reached for the nearest rigging. She glanced up once before she began her climb, crossing over a yard toward the mast. One of the younger sailors nodded at her as he worked his way down, and she continued up the shroud until she reached the barrel used as a crow's nest. She picked up the spyglass tied to a nail in the barrel and swept the horizon in a slow, methodical circle. She used the spyglass for her first pass of the horizon because she'd noticed several of the men watching her at the beginning of each of her shifts.
Most of the men trusted their captain with his decision to give AJ the critical job of spotting French or English patrols. However, a few of the newer men didn't want her on board at all, and after Jamie had given her free rein to run the ship, she'd heard the grumbling. It bothered her the first day, but after Lando assured her they'd get used to it or be off the ship at the next port, she paid the men little heed.
After her first scan with the spyglass, she reached into her pouch and pulled out the binoculars Beckworth had stashed in his backpack. She'd found them when she'd searched his gear that first evening at the inn while he lay bound and hazy in his own room. Jaime and Lando had marveled at the field glasses. Jamie agreed that, as long as she was careful, the glasses were worth the risk if it made their channel crossing safer.
The four-hour shift reminded her of early morning climbs in Baywood, watching the sea from the top of the cliff. On her first watch, she couldn't think about anything other than Finn. By her third shift, she'd turned her focus to her plans for when they made land. Jamie withheld their destination until after they set sail. His announcement they would dock at a small port west of Southampton didn't change her agenda. The new location aligned with her decision to stop at Waverly on her way to Hereford.
Everything was coming together with only one possible flaw—Beckworth. They both had an interest in Waverly, but AJ began to wonder if Beckworth would be greeted with open arms on his return. He'd grown pensive since boarding the ship, even distracted. It had been over a year since he'd been home, and it was possible the place had been abandoned. Had he thought to leave anyone in charge when he'd planned to be gone for a month or two? Or maybe his thoughts were more sinister, and even from a different century, he had somehow played a role in Maire's disappearance. Taking her cue from Finn, she could either worry about it or prepare for it.
Returning to her duty, she scanned the area and spotted a ship due east of them. She focused on the masts and sheets as Lando had taught her and guessed the ship to be Royal Navy. She couldn't be sure until they were closer, but Jamie preferred to play it safe. She signaled the alarm by ringing a bell before pointing east then watched the men scramble. Her pulse quickened as Jamie instantly gave the word. Canvas cracked as men scrambled to the rigging to change their course westward.
When she peered down at Lando, she caught him tucking his own spyglass away. He looked up at her with an expression that seemed to be approval, though he was too far away for her to be certain. Either way, her cheeks flushed with excitement as the Daphne Maire turned to chase the setting sun. With the ship's speed, the other ship would never catch her. Not one to shirk her duties while still on watch, she scanned the horizon of their new direction to make sure they weren't being flanked. Seeing no
thing for miles, she lowered her hat and went back to planning her journey to Waverly.
Beckworth leaned against the bulwark, arms shackled in front of him. He watched the men hustle as they shifted the sails to a new heading—all on the say of a mere slip of a woman. Not all the men appreciated having AJ on board, but in his brief conversations with a few of the men, he'd discovered many of the sailors knew her from a previous sail. They gave no further explanation, but he'd heard enough to know they respected her, almost as much as Murphy, their previous captain.
He shouldn't have expected any less. A captain demanded obedience on a ship, their lives might well depend on it, but respect was earned not given. And though he despised Murphy on so many levels, he'd heard the reverent tone the men used when mentioning their previous captain. Beckworth assumed the sailors' respect for AJ stemmed from her association with Murphy, but after watching her with the men, the way she offered her assistance and pulled her weight, her actions gave him pause.
The first time he'd seen her climb the rigging, he'd almost laughed until he noticed her skill. In one instance, when she'd glanced about for where to place her next step, her expression was nothing less than sheer delight as if she searched for the most difficult climb. Damn, if she wasn't a sight. Once she was in the nest, all she had to do was keep her eye on the horizon. He knew the task to be boring and easy for someone to fall prey to the roll of the ship before nodding off. Yet the men didn't hesitate when she signaled the alarm and pointed.
He grudgingly admitted that his own respect for her had grown when he'd stumbled on deck one evening and found the rain pouring down as the ship bucked against the angry waves. When he'd squinted up through the fierce storm, he'd noticed someone in the nest. It wasn't until he'd spotted a glimpse of long hair and a long slim arm bracing the rim of the nest that he'd known it was AJ.
When he'd mentioned it to Lando, the man had only grunted a response before moving on. "Don't worry about the lass. She's tied on."
Now Beckworth glared up as he watched AJ swing a pouch across her back before stepping out of the barrel. An arm jostled his, and he glanced over to find Jaime studying him. The man was young for a captain, but it seemed he'd learned much from Murphy.
Beckworth lifted his bound hands. "Where am I going to go out in the middle of the ocean? Can't you give a man a break?"
The captain had an infectious grin when he showed it, which was too often. Damned Irishmen. Always smiling like they have a secret. Jaime followed Beckworth's gaze to where AJ was crossing a yard to cut across the deck rather than take the simple path down the shroud.
Jaime kept his grin in place as he watched the sprite crawl across the rigging. "Acts of sabotage aren't always an immediate threat. I'd rather know where your hands are at all times."
Smart bugger. Beckworth scratched his chin and tried to pull at a sleeve, but his fingers couldn't quite reach. "Why do you make a woman climb up to the nest?"
Jaime laughed. "I'd have thought you knew her well enough to know one doesn't exactly make her do anything."
Beckworth smiled in return and rubbed at his shoulder as his gaze flicked up. "She is quite the little monkey. I should have remembered she knew how to climb when she escaped Dugan. That was no small feat."
"You mean the first time she escaped?" The smile on Jaime's face disappeared, and Beckworth could almost feel the brotherly protection roll off him. "And now you have the second answer as to why your hands are cuffed and why I'm wasting a man guarding you around the clock. Be happy you're not still shackled in one of the cargo holds." He edged closer and pulled himself up to his full height, which was an inch taller than Beckworth. "If I had my way, you'd be tied to the mast for the entire journey to enjoy the winter weather. It's only for AJ's wishes that you're being treated as fairly as you are. Remember that the next time you slight her."
The captain strolled away, his gaze darting about, assuring himself the men had the ship in order. When AJ reached the deck and walked to him, he put an arm around her shoulders, and she laughed at whatever he said.
Beckworth dropped to get out of the wind while he considered Jaime's words. He had to admit. AJ had proven herself resilient from the first time he'd met her. Perhaps he should rethink his plans for when they landed. AJ was beside herself with worry for Maire, and though AJ assumed he could swagger his way back to Waverly, he wasn't so sure. Dugan was up to something, and Beckworth had no doubt it had to do with those blasted stones. He needed to alter his plans. Instead of taking a gamble on entering Waverly himself, why not use the curious Miss Moore to suss out what was going on at Waverly? The webs they wove. The only question was, which of them was the spider and which the fly?
14
On their last night at sea, the crew grew restless, and few slept. Laughter could be heard through the hatches from those gambling below. A handful of men wandered the deck or found a spot to quietly watch the stars. Though close to the shores of England, everyone stayed alert.
AJ's last watch had ended at dusk, and she'd lingered in the barrel to savor the last panoramic vision of the sea. She doubted she'd ever view the spectacular image from a place as wondrous as the nest. She'd spent the next two hours assisting the cook before finding her own corner of the deck to eat.
The same uneasiness of the crew settled in her bones. Though the journey across the channel had been dangerous, she felt safe. The next part of her trip wouldn't be as easy. She ran through all the possible scenarios one last time, and while she could ask Jamie to send someone with her, she couldn't see the point. She could take care of herself.
Neither he nor Lando had said another word on the topic of Beckworth. If they were worried, they would have spent the trip cajoling her to take an additional person with her. They knew her to be stubborn, but that never stopped anyone from giving her unwanted advice.
Maybe they believed her promise to not go to Waverly. That was an easy enough promise. She simply wanted to skirt the area and ask about Maire in town. She knew Ethan and Thomas had already done that, but women had a different touch when seeking information. While her reporter skills were beyond rusty, she'd watched Maire and Stella nurse the best secrets out of people.
Beckworth would be a handful on the road, but if he could get into Waverly after all this time, there was an outside chance of discovering what happened to Maire. A long shot at best, but she had to try. Then she would continue on to Hereford, possibly finding other travelers heading that same direction.
She considered how to use Beckworth to her advantage. Her best option would be to use the skills he seemed best at. In Baywood, he'd been a ghost for months while tracking her, all without her knowledge. Even when Finn and Ethan agreed he must have traveled to the future, Beckworth was still elusive. Unfortunately, his deceitfulness canceled out his benefits. Yet, she had become obsessed to know if Maire was at Waverly. She was so close.
AJ stretched her back, squirming within the hard folds of the canvas tarps. Clear skies followed them all day, the first since leaving France. They were running dark to evade the coastal patrols, but the quarter moon provided enough light for her task. She rolled the handle of the dagger in her palm and reached for the whetstone one of the sailors had loaned her. Footsteps shuffled across the deck, and a massive figure blocked the moonlight.
"Why are you not in your cabin?" Lando smiled down on her, a bushy brow raised. He kept his hair shaved close, which added to his menacing appearance. Only a handful of people knew the teddy bear hidden beneath the surface.
"It's the first night I've been able to enjoy the stars."
"You've caught the restless nature of the men."
"Maybe." She patted a spot next to her, and after a moment, Lando sat beside her. "We haven't had much time to talk."
Lando pulled out a knife and an apple. He carved a slice and offered it to her. After she took a bite, he sliced another and popped it in his mouth. His crunching mingled with the sounds of ropes rubbing against wood, the rustle of the
sails, and creaking of the ship. When he finished the apple, he tossed it over the side and wiped the blade on his pants.
"Why are you still working on the ship?" AJ asked. "I would have thought you'd return to London."
He stretched out his legs and peered up to the sky. After a moment of silence, she caught the barest hint of a shrug. "I was paid well for being a bodyguard, but the gentlemen's clubs?" He sighed. "Stiff collars, standing for hours at a time. It wasn't for me."
"There must have been other work in a large city."
"In a factory or livery, maybe, but there's no freedom in that."
"Or the rush you get when we spot another ship?"
He laughed, the sound deep and comforting. "I thought I'd cured my wanderlust. Then Finn showed up in London with a crazy tale and stirred my belly. Once I walked out of the club, my spirit reawakened. After you left, I thought I'd sail back home, help Jaime where I could, then return to London."
"But you couldn't do it."
His expression was hidden in shadow, so she couldn't tell if his thoughts were wistful or regretful. The tone of his response told her everything she needed to know. "We'd only left port an hour earlier, and the alarm was sounded. My blood stirred with the thought of battle. It was then I knew I'd never return to London. At least not to stay. If Jaime didn't need me, I'd find another ship. This was the life I was meant to live."
"Don't you ever want to settle down?"
He laughed so hard, she was sure there'd be tears of humor though it was impossible to tell in the shadowy light. "Someday, little one, I'll arrive in port, and she'll be waiting for me. But that day isn't yet." He looked down and held out a hand, nodding toward her dagger.
She handed it to him, nervous about what he'd think after all this time. He'd been the first person to teach her how to use it.
