He came to a halt and faced her. “Ye are mine, my precious dove. Morals or not, any man who attempts to take what is mine will pay dearly.”
Robbie stepped out of an adjoining alley. Auley accompanied him. “Calder sent us to fetch ye both to the warehouse,” Robbie said. Auley agreed with a wide-eyed nod and a wave to hurry and follow.
Mila grabbed Teague’s arm and squeezed. “We go straight to the warehouse and our new life, aye? Nowhere else. We dinna need to ask for trouble. I beg ye. Do this for me.”
He cupped her face in his hand and forced a nod. “Only for ye, my precious one. I will step away and let the man be.” The relief in her eyes and her smile helped cool his ire.
She set her basket aside, grabbed his hand, and tugged. “Let’s hurry and get on that ship, aye?”
They rushed down the narrow alleyway, Robbie and Auley following close behind. Just as they reached the end of the passage between the buildings, Teague jerked to a hard stop and shoved Mila behind him.
Several soldiers loitered up ahead at the end of the walkway leading to the warehouse. Among them was Master James Cranson, casting a watchful eye all around as he talked with the redcoats.
“They know theVengeanceis my ship,” Teague whispered while backing them all into the shadows. “The stolen records contained several of the older logbooks.”
“And Cranson knows what we look like,” Mila said. “There has to be another way to the warehouse. If we stick to the alleys, can we not go around them?”
“I would lay odds that Cranson has every route we might take watched.” Teague leaned back against the wall. “Although none of us are the same as we were the night of that meeting.”
“Except for Robbie and Auley.” Mila reached down, scooped up handfuls of dirt, and rubbed it on the lads’ faces. “It might help. They were both clean the last time Walpole’s spy saw them. If he noticed them at all.”
“We can slip past him easy,” Robbie said. “All we have to do is act like we’re going to fish off one of the docks and ignore them.”
Auley took a small spool of twine out of his baggy pocket, held it up, and smiled.
“Ye need sticks and bait,” Teague said. “We have no time for that.”
“I dinna think they will stop us,” Robbie insisted. “All we have to do is pretend we are scavenging the docks or something. If we ignore them, they should pay us no mind.” With a flip of his hand, he adopted a self-assured smirk. “We are nothing but midges to them. Mere lads. They are looking for MacDonald men.”
Teague knew Mila feared for the young ones’ lives, but they couldn’t hide in the shadows forever. If Calder had sent the lads to fetch them, they needed to get to the warehouse now. “Go on wi’ ye. We will stay here until we see ye safe and then figure a way to join ye.” He offered Mila a reassuring smile. “We have to let them try.”
“I know,” she said, then pulled both the younglings into a fierce hug. She held them for a long moment, then stepped back, bowed her head, and waved them on. “Be careful.”
Teague hugged her to his side as the lads scampered toward the docks as if they didn’t have a care in the world. Laughing and jostling each other as boys often do, they swung past Cranson and the soldiers and, as Robbie said, totally ignored them.
Mila hitched in an alarmed breath as two of the British turned and eyed the lads. She exhaled with relief when they turned back and resumed their conversations, paying the young ones no mind.
“Now our turn.” Teague held tight to her shoulders and locked eyes with her. “I will go first. If they stop me, I will tell them I’m a dockworker with one of the other warehouses. Once I am well past them, come across as if trying to catch up with the lads to make them do their chores. Call them whatever names ye like—except their own, ye ken?”
“Act like their angry mother.” She cast a nervous glance at the soldiers and nodded. “I didna speak with that devil for long the night of our meeting. Surely he willna recognize me.”
“I pray he does not.” Teague tried to see her as if he had just met her. Even dressed as a grubby washerwoman, her beauty shone through. Even that soldier had been drawn to her. Hopefully, Cranson would be too obsessed with capturing him to realize who she was. He caught her up and kissed her, pouring all his hopes and fears into the embrace. “God be with us,” he whispered, then kissed her again.
She pulled away and pressed the back of her hand to her mouth, her eyes glistening with tears. “Go now,” she whispered. “Before I cry.”
He hitched up his cloak around his neck, pulled his hat lower, and gimped across the street with his back bent. When he reached the group of men, he didn’t spare them a glance, just ambled along at a steady pace, minding his own business.
“Sober already?”
Teague ignored the comment and kept walking while damning himself for not recognizing the young soldier from earlier. Trouble was, their uniforms, wigs, and hats made them all so similar that it was hard to tell them apart.
“You there!”
Teague didn’t pause or turn until a hand grabbed his shoulder and spun him about. With one eye squinted shut, he cowered as though expecting a beating. “Aye, sir?” he rasped, keeping his gaze locked on the ground.
The young redcoat stepped closer and sniffed. “You reek of filth, but not ale or whisky. Perhaps I am mistaken. I have never seen so many drunks and beggars in my life. State your business here.”
“Work in the warehouse, sir,” Teague said with an apologetic bob of his head. Everything in him raged to beat these men senseless and fight for his freedom rather than cower. But he held fast and played the game. For Mila’s sake. As he had promised.
