Augustus Shackleford gave a long-suffering sigh.
‘Mebbe ye can hide roond the corner o’ the lodging hoose?’ Finn interrupted, earning him an approving nod from the Reverend. Percy felt his sense doom increase to Biblical proportions as the clergyman ushered him round the back of the spice shed.
‘I’ll tell you as soon as the coast is clear,’ Reverend Shackleford hissed, looking back towards the lodging house. ‘Try not to look too suspicious.’
Minutes later it was just him and Finn. Once Percy had given them a reluctant thumbs up from his position at the side of the lodging house, the Reverend sank down onto the wooden planking.
‘I’ll be honest with you, lad,’ the clergyman said after a few seconds. ‘I haven’t a deuced clue how we’re going to stop Reinhardt’s thugs. If you’ve got any bright ideas, both the Almighty and I will be eternally grateful if you’d share ‘em.’
Finn thought for a second. ‘Dae ye hae onythin’ at all tae gie ‘em whit fer?’
‘Not a thing,’ the Reverend mourned.
Finn sat silently for a second, then abruptly scrambled to his feet. ‘Dae ye hae any coin?’ he asked, holding out his hand. Grumbling, the clergyman dug into his pockets and came up with a couple of shillings. ‘Stay whare ye are,’ Finn ordered, pocketing the money before tiptoeing all the way round the spice shed, clearly trying to avoid being spotted by an already distraught Percy.
Reverend Shackleford watched him dash across the wharf towards the open area containing the makeshift stalls. He actually felt quite emotional. Finn might be Percy’s, but he was a boy after the Reverend’s own heart.
Minutes later he came back with a large frying pan and held it out to the Reverend with a flourish.
Taking the pan Augustus Shackleford climbed to his feet, his enthusiasm entirely renewed. After swiping it this way and that, he patted the lad on the back. ‘You’re a chip off the old block and no mistake Finn Noon,’ he declared with a grin. ‘Come along, let’s go and get the varmints.’
Waving his pan gaily at a panic-stricken Percy, the Reverend led Finn round the back of the lodging house. Once there, he looked around for something he could stand on. Fortunately, there was an old chair that appeared sturdy enough. Dragging it next tothe back entrance door, the Reverend climbed up and tucked his cassock into his breeches. After a few seconds, he gave a thumbs up sign to Finn, who promptly ran round the side of the house and waved to Percy who was now so pale, he looked like a bad piece of taxidermy.
Seconds later the boy was back. ‘We’ll give your da enough time to get up there, and then we give ‘em what for,’ the clergyman announced gleefully.
While they waited, Reverend Shackleford gave the pan few experimental swings, then looking down at his pocket watch, he finally gave a nod.
Seconds later, Finn’s shout was loud enough to wake the dead.
It was only two minutes before they heard the clatter of feet down the stairs. Reverend Shackleford readied himself, legs bent like he was about to deliver a blistering tennis serve. As the door opened, he swung the pan to the side, and as soon as the varmint stepped through, brought it down in a smack that would have felled Goliath himself.
Chapter Twenty-Two
It took Nate another twenty minutes to find theWestern Starand as soon as he’d identified the ship, he took Duchess to the nearest tavern, back along the wharf about a quarter of a mile. Fortunately, the establishment had a small, if crude, stable attached to the side.
Ignoring the mare’s reproachful looks as he struggled to take off her saddle using one hand, Nate brushed her down as best he could and gave her some oats. He’d paid for a full night, with instructions that if he didn’t return on the morrow, the innkeeper was to send word to the Countess of Cottesmore, who would arrange to have the horse collected.
Ruby, he trusted to find her own way home should she need to.
Once he was certain the mare was safe at least, Nate returned to the jetty on which theWestern Starwas moored. It was flying an American flag and the number of sailors running up and down the rigging gave every indication that her leaving was imminent. There was no hint as to whether Reinhardt was on board, but somehow Nate didn’t think so. The bastard wouldn’t have had time to get the marriage ceremony over with and would be unlikely to want to spend his wedding night in the same pokeycabin he was going to have to live in for the next couple of months.
Shoving down the rage that consumed him at the thought of Reinhardt forcing Mercy into his bed, Nate looked back towards the wharf. There was a lodging house about another fifty yards along. Could that be where Reinhardt was holding Mercy?
There was no sign of Christian and the others. Surely, they should have been here by now. Had he got it wrong, or had they?
He stood for a moment, debating his next move, when all of a sudden Ruby gave an excited bark at his feet before dashing towards theStar’sgangplank. Hurriedly, Nate started after her, worried the dog might take it into her head to run onto the deck. But as she reached the ropes tying the plank of wood to the jetty, Ruby simply stood, wagging her tail. Seconds later, to Nate’s complete amazement the diminutive shape of Flossy appeared on the other end of the gangplank with something incongruously dangling from her mouth.
The Viscount glanced over to the nearest sailor, but he seemed oblivious to the little dog’s presence.
Heart in his mouth, Nate called softly to her, crouching down in invitation and praying she wouldn’t turn round and go back the way she’d come.
Instead, with every evidence of satisfaction, Flossy jumped onto the gangplank and ran towards Ruby. As she reached the terrier, the little dog dropped what she was carrying and rolled on to her back, clearly delighted to see her friend.
Nate hurried over to them and quickly scooped Flossy up with his good arm. He couldn’t even begin to guess where the Reverend was, and a sudden sick feeling assailed him. Could theclergyman somehow be on board the ship? Keeping the little dog under his arm, he crouched down again to see what she’d dropped, wincing as he picked it up using his injured arm.
It was a tiny key, not even half an inch across, threaded onto a narrow satin ribbon. Clearly old, he couldn’t imagine what it opened, or why Flossy might have picked it up.
Climbing back to his feet, he managed to tuck the key into the pocket of his breeches. Then he carefully eased Ruby’s lead from around his neck and clipped it onto Flossy’s collar before finally setting her back on the ground.
