Rosalind. He dropped his fork and sprang to his feet. Was something wrong?
“Is this about the letters?” Alexei asked.
A hard ball formed in Yuri’s stomach. He hadn’t yet told Alexei about his plans to help Rosalind escape. In fact, Alexei hadn’t been home long enough for anyone to tell him about what Rosalind was suffering at the hands of her father. That wasn’t exactly the type of thing they’d discuss at the dinner table where little ears were present.
Alexei stepped to the side so Yuri could greet her.
“Is everything all right?” He couldn’t think of a single good reason that would propel Rosalind from her house after dark and cause her to sneak up to their back door at a time of day when her father might very well notice she was gone.
“Would you like to stay for dinner?” Bryony came up behind him. “It’s been too long since we visited.”
“I can’t stay.” Rosalind stood just beyond the doorframe, her chest heaving and eyes glancing around without settling on any one thing. Snow dusted the top of her hatless head, and wisps of hair had come loose around her face. It was the most disheveled he’d ever seen her.
“I just...” She licked her lips, then glanced around again before she opened her cloak and shoved two slim journals at his chest. “Can you give these to your brother-in-law? The Deputy Marshal?”
Then she turned and fled into the night.
“Ros! Wait!” he called, but she was already gone, leaving only a set of footprints behind her in the snow.
“What is it?” Alexei asked.
“I don’t know.” He handed one of the journals to Alexei, not sure whether he should be chasing after Rosalind.
Alexei opened it and scanned the page for a moment, his eyebrows pinched together. “Is this... Is this what I think it is?”
“What did she give you?” Mikhail asked from behind them. “Come inside and shut the door so we can see.”
Alexei shook his head, his eyes still pinned to the page. “It appears to be proof of Preston Caldwell falsifying the number of seals harvested last year.”
“What?” Sacha jumped up from the table so quickly, his chair nearly toppled backward.
Yuri opened the ledger he was still holding. It wasn’t a record of the number of seals killed, not like Alexei’s ledger. This one was filled with names and dates and payment amounts.
“This isn’t right,” he whispered.
“Obviously.” Alexei flipped a page. “Secretary Gray will want to know about it. Immediately. If only there was a way to send a telegram straight from Sitka. The best I can do is write oneand send it with theAlliancewhen it leaves in the morning. The captain can wire it for me when he gets to port, but that’s a three day delay.”
Alexei was right. While telegraph lines connected most major cities in the United States, there was no telegraph cable that ran from Seattle to Sitka, meaning that any telegram they sent needed to travel by ship to Seattle or San Francisco or Portland before it could be sent via wire.
“We should use the mimeograph in the office to make copies of this,” Mikhail suggested.
Conversation swirled around Yuri, but all he could think about was how Rosalind was supposed to have brought him proof of bribing Marshal Hibbs. It would be condemning evidence, but not exactly a large scandal that people in Washington, DC, would care about.
Did her father know she had these ledgers? This was the type of thing men would commit murder over to keep quiet.
Why had she left to go back home rather than stay with him? He could have spirited her away on theAlliance.
A hard ball formed in his stomach. He shoved his ledger into Sacha’s hands and raced toward the door.
“Where are you going?” Bryony asked as he stormed past her.
He didn’t answer, just wrenched the door open and ran into the night.
“Yuri!” Mikhail called after him.
He didn’t stop to answer his brother. If he was fast enough maybe he could catch Rosalind before she got home.
His boots pounded against the snow and mud of the back lane as he ran, cold air slapping his face and tearing at his shirt. He barely felt it. Barely even noticed he’d darted outside without his coat.
