“Yes, I mean, no, I…won’t come here again.”
“Thank you.” He nodded solemnly and kissed her again, a light brush of the lips that left her wanting more.
She leaned closer.
“Hell, lassie, you tempt a man to go back on his word.” He raised his brows suggestively. “Unless you’ve changed your mind?”
“N-no.” She took a step back, nearly tumbling down the hill.
He caught her, laughing. “Let’s get you out of here.”
“Are you finished?”
“It would seem so,” he said wryly, gathering the hats. He tossed them onto the canvas spread nearby. “Come to the cottage, and we’ll see what we got.”
Twenty-Two
“NOT VERYmuch.” Kendra frowned at the few coins spread on the cottage’s dining table.
Trick laughed. “A greedy thief, are you? It’s mostly gold, not silver.”
“True.” She lifted one. “How about in his coat? Anything there?”
He dug into the pockets, felt the collar, the seams, the hem… “Ah.”
“Was he hiding something?”
With a quick flick of his knife, he slit the stitches. One by one, more bright gold coins dropped to the table with satisfying little clunks.
Clunk. Clunk. Clunk.Clink.
“I’ll be damned.” Trick scooped up the latest addition. He walked to the window, held it to the light, bit into it. “Eureka,” he said softly, then rushed back to the table and opened the rest of the hem, flicking the coins to the surface.
Clunk. Clunk.Clink.Clunk.Clink. Clink. Clink. Clink.Clunk.Clink.
“They’re larger denominations,” Kendra pointed out.
“Aye.”
Clink.Clunk.Clink. Clink.Clunk.
“Good?”
“Nay.” He pulled the last one from the ragged hem, then sorted them swiftly on the tabletop. “They’re counterfeit.”
“Counterfeit?” she said with a huff. “Why, that’s criminal!”
He pinned her with a pointed look.
“Oh…” Heat rushed to her cheeks.
He moved to her and took her chin. “You’re not guilty,” he said.
“You’re not, either,” she countered loyally. “They’re Roundhead scum. They deserve it, and it’s for a good cause.”
“The end justifies the means?” Trick walked to the stone fireplace. “I think not,leannan.” He reached up, sank his fingers into a crack in the mortar, and coaxed out a small key. “Now, can you tell me what the man looked like? Whatever you remember.”
“What he looked like?” Kendra watched as he opened the desk’s top drawer and slipped the key into a hidden lock. The bottom drawer—the one she’d been unable to open—sprang free. “He was shorter than you, by a good six inches, I’d say.” She shut her eyes, trying to remember. “Thin, pale, pale eyes I think, too, although I was at a distance.” She opened her eyes as Trick pulled a sheet of paper from the top drawer.
