When the coach rolled to a lumbering halt just shy of the city, she heard a rapid exchange of voices. Lyrica?
Instantly wary, Juliet leaned forward to raise the window shade and saw her sister-in-law’s coach pull alongside theirs. When their door opened and Lyrica stepped inside, drawing it shut behind her, Juliet was so startled she dropped her watch. Taking a seat beside Minette, Lyrica stared red-eyedat Juliet, her tearstained face sending a warning as the coach lurched forward.
“I’ve come to tell you the terrible news.” She took a vial of smelling salts from her reticule with gloved hands and offered it to Juliet. “Half an hour ago the jury found Leith guilty of murder.”
Minette gave a hoarse cry.Guiltyhung in the pungent air. Juliet ignored the offered vial, her whole world shrinking to a blinding point of pain she’d never known. As she grappled for her bearings, Minette seemed to withdraw like a snail coiled into its shell.
“The penalty is death.” Lyrica’s voice sounded odd, almost relieved, like a false note in a piece of music. “His execution is on the morrow.”
With a sudden move, Juliet knocked on the coach roof to halt the driver, but the vehicle swung toward the Broomielaw, not Virginia Street. Leaning forward, Lyrica brought the shutter down hard, then drew a penknife from her reticule. She opened it, the mother-of-pearl haft agleam in the low light.
“Be cooperative lest you suffer an unfortunate slashing and ruin your lovely brocaded silk.” She waved the knife at Minette. “Over there by your mistress so I can keep a better eye on the both of you.”
Minette all but lunged toward Juliet, coming down hard on the upholstered seat in a flurry of petticoats. Their shared fear filled the coach as matters became clear. Lyrica was in league with her husband and Cochrane. But to what extent—and how far was she willing to go?
“Where is my guard?” Juliet pushed the words past her breathlessness, certain that he, too, had been waylaid en route.
A triumphant smile surfaced. “He took a wee detour.”
They were along the waterfront now, the tang of tar and fish and salt water potent. Another turn and they came to an abrupt stop. The coach door opened, and she and Minette found themselves in a darkened tobacco warehouse. Juliet knew that sweet, earthy scent anywhere, and with it came a wash of memories.
Several men surrounded them, all strangers, as Lyrica disappeared through a side door. To struggle was futile, but Juliet still had a voice. “We are being held against our will and must be taken to Virginia Street—”
“We’ve orders to do otherwise,” a thickset man said as he hurried them toward the dock. His fellows, all sailors, formed a ring around them as if to keep them from running.
The gangplank stretching ahead of them led to theBlack Prince, Euan’s pride. The irony was not lost on Juliet. Minette linked arms with her as they were hustled up the wooden walkway to deck. Juliet took a last look at Glasgow over her shoulder before they were taken below, out of sight. The dock was empty. Lyrica had obviously played her part and abandoned them.
They were shoved into a small, shadowed cabin. Juliet pushed hard against the door in a final protest, but it thudded shut, catching her lace sleeve in the process, before the door was locked. She faced Minette, who was crying now, collapsed atop the floor in a small heap. Since there were no chairs, only twin hammocks, Juliet sank down beside her and put her arms around her, their bent heads pressed together.
Lord, what are we to do?
If only she’d not left Lamb Hill. It had seemed insignificant yet in hindsight proved disastrous. Had Tennant sent the note for her to come to Glasgow? Or had Euan and Lyrica been behind that too?
Minette raised her head. “What will become of us?”
Juliet took a handkerchief from her pocket and pressed it into Minette’s trembling hand. Shock scattered her thoughts, and she took a breath, groping for sensibility instead of the hovering hysteria. “I don’t know where this ship is bound, but it could be worse.”
We might have been murdered like Havilah...Leo.
“I’m afraid.” Minette dried her tears with the handkerchief. “But at least we are together, no?”
For now. Who knew what the coming hours would bring? “I’m so sorry, Minette. ’Tis me they’re wanting to do away with. You’re just caught in the crosshairs.”
“From the moment I met her I never cared for Madame Buchanan or her husband.” Minette shuddered and looked at Juliet. “Do you believe what was said about Mr. Buchanan being found guilty?”
Did she? The weight on Juliet’s heart failed to ease. Might it have been a lie? A part of the ruse? “We shall find out in time. The truth will come to light.”
Exhaustion pressed down on her as if she’d run clear from Lamb Hill to Glasgow. She got up with difficulty, passed to the porthole, and looked out over the shipping lanes, wishing she faced the labyrinth of piers and docks instead. Here her cries for help would bounce across the water like a skimmed pebble. Gulls careened overhead, their cries shrill.
She crossed to the door if only to confirm it was still locked. Throat parched, she looked to a hammock, reminded of Leith’s on theGlasgow Lass.Oh, to return to that time, almost hallowed in hindsight, when their future was before them, unmarred and bright.
65
To die is landing on some distant shore.
John Dryden
The shudder of the ship as it left its moorings was but one small alarm in a series of them. Juliet had lost track of the hours. Addled, she missed her watch. Where had she mislaid it? Her only clue to the time was the ebbing light fading from the porthole and Minette’s soft snores in a hammock. Had it been two days? Three?
