Alex stilled, meeting Andrew’s gaze across the group.
Your debt to her remains unpaid.
That was an all-too-familiar phrase.
“Ah. So you are the person behind those notices in the newspapers?” Alex asked.
“Yes,” Gillespie nodded, at last confirming himself to be the author. “Atrocities were committed aboardThe Minerva. I will see justice served. Miss Fyffe was ill-used. Someone should pay—”
The Brotherhood spoke over one another.
“Who told you these lies?!”
“Miss Fyffe was our dearest friend!”
“Is Miss Fyffe alive then?!”
“Miss Fyffe was my wife!” Kieran’s voice cut through the noise. “No . . . sheismy wife!”
“Wife?!” Gillespie frowned.
“Aye and I will hear all that you know.” Kieran leaned toward the reverend, jabbing a finger. “I have been going mad not knowing what happened to her. I love my wife with my whole heart—”
The reverend frowned deeper, stepping back. “You and Miss Fyffe were married?”
“Aye,” Kieran nodded.
“Witnessed the handfasting myself,” Ewan agreed.
“Handfasting?” Gillespie rolled his eyes and folded his arms. “That is hardly a legitimate marriage.”
“It is for a Scot,” Kieran shot back.
“And were you married in Scotland then?” Gillespie asked.
Silence.
“I didn’t think so,” the reverend continued, shaking his head. “If the handfasting didn’t take place on Scottish soil, then the marriage isn’t legal according to English law.”
“That’s semantics,” Kieran said. “Jamie and I considered ourselves married. If we need to formalize the union in a church, then so be it.”
Gillespie opened his mouth, clearly determined to fight this.
Alex held out a staying hand. “As I said in our last meeting, we all loved Miss Fyffe—or Mrs. MacTavish, whatever you will—as family. We cared for and protected her. It is a testament to our care that we are all here today, desperate for information. You are a man of God. Please be reasonable. We shouldn’t have to pay a King’s ransom just to know if Miss Fyffe lives or not.”
Gillespie stared at him. “The monies I request are notunreasonable. We are desirous to return to the South Pacific, my congregation and I, and continue our work there. You are clearly wealthy gentlemen.” The reverend ran a scathing eye up and down Alex’s expensive Garrick coat and darted a telling glance at the gold buttons on Andrew’s waistcoat. “You can consider the funds a donation to my charitable cause.”
“Again, any amount we pay ye will depend on the value of the information ye have. If ye do indeed have details about Miss Fyffe, we shall ensure that ye are rewarded handsomely.” Ewan made a beckoning motion with his hand. “But first, ye have to tell us what ye know.”
Gillespie paused. “Do I have your word as gentlemen that you will pay me the sum of one thousand pounds for the information at my disposal?”
“If you can direct us to the current location of Miss Eilidh Fyffe—whether alive or dead—the money will be yours,” Alex said.
“Aye,” Andrew agreed. “I give ye my word.”
The others nodded.
Gillespie looked between them for a moment and then shrugged. “Very well. I shall tell you what I know.”
