"He might spook when he sees the Charleys by the ships," Hunt said.
"My men are disguised as sailors," Ambrose replied.
Hunt's gaze rolled upward. "If Coyner can't spot a Charley from a mile away, he isn't half as clever as you make him out to be."
Apprehension gripped Marianne; she could see Hunt's point.
"Coyner will make a go for it," Ambrose reassured her. "At this point, he has no choice—he can't outrun us forever on British soil. His best and only chance is to head for France."
Marianne gave a shaky nod. She lowered the veil on her bonnet, and the filmy white material drifted over her face to obscure her identity. She'd dressed in a nondescript putty bombazine to blend in with the masses.
"Let's go find my daughter," she said.
They split into pairs as they'd planned. Each had with them a whistle to sound the alarm if Coyner was sighted. Harteford and Hunt went to circle the pier by theImplacable, and Marianne and Ambrose headed for theCourageat the western edge of the docks. As they neared the gleaming row of ships, Ambrose pulled her off to the side, using a stack of steamer trunks for cover.
"I can see Johnno and the lads up ahead at theCourage," he said in a low voice. "If you spot Coyner, you raise the alarm, do you hear? I won't be far away, sweetheart."
Because Ambrose would be too easily recognized, he'd arranged to keep watch from the deck of an adjacent ship. He'd be there, protecting her. As he'd done from the moment they'd met. Her eyes prickled with heat. He'd given her everything and asked for naught in return. Not even three simple words: ones he'd offered without condition and which she secretly clung to like some fretful child to a doll.
Her throat thickened. "Ambrose?"
His eyes continued their unceasing scan of the pier. "Yes?"
"I..." She swallowed. "Thank you."
Before he could say anything, she lifted the veil and kissed him. Then she turned and walked steadily toward the ship. His presence anchored her every step, bolstering her strength as she went forward to claim her daughter.
Passengers had gathered near the gangway. Dozens of people—men, women, and children—milled about, their voices and the summoning bells rising in a confusing cacophony. Marianne lingered at the fringe, trying to scan the faces one by one. With the wide-brimmed hats and bonnets currently in fashion, this proved a harder task than she'd anticipated. Children, due to their shorter stature, were swallowed up in the sea of moving bodies.
She craned her neck to see the head of the line, where Johnno and another Thames River Policeman stood in seamen's garb. They had posted themselves by the roped entryway leading to theCourage. As boarding commenced, she saw that they were studying each passenger's face as he or she presented their ticket.
An idea struck Marianne. She loosened her grip on her reticule, letting it thud to the planks. Bending to her knees as if to retrieve it, she found a less fettered view. She focused on the shoes—on finding a pair of footwear suitable for an eight-year-old girl. Seeing a pair of tan half-boots in the right size, she rose and plunged heedlessly into the crowd. Indignant cries greeted her.
"Well, I never!"
"I'll thank you to mind your manners, miss!"
Ignoring the comments, she elbowed her way through. Her heart stopped at the sight of the little straw poke bonnet. The girl's profile was obscured by thick golden curls.
"Primrose?" she said in a shaking voice.
The girl turned, looking up with quizzical brown eyes. "Beg pardon, missus?" she said.
"Hush, Hattie." The gentleman next to the girl twisted his neck around, his weather-beaten face creased with suspicion as he looked Marianne up and down. "Haven't I told you never to speak with strangers?"
"My apologies. I made a mistake," Marianne said.
She tried to move back, but the wave of eager passengers carried her forward. She fought against the tide, trying to get a glimpse of the other children in the crowd. Through a gap, she saw a mop of blond hair… dash it, belonging to a boy. A plain silk bonnet trimmed with daisies flashed in the distance, but auburn ringlets peeped out.
Desperation climbed; she was never going to get a clear view this way, and there was no escaping the throng. She'd have to hold on and trust Johnno and his partner to perform their duties. When she reached the head of the line, Johnno pulled her aside.
"Haven't seen 'er yet, my lady," he whispered. "The families o' three on the list are all boarded. Got a few father-daughter pairs left—'ere's one comin' up behind you."
Panic clawed at Marianne's insides.Please be Primrose.
She faced the pair. Her heart plummeted. The brown-haired girl chattered happily on as her Papa—not Coyner—held out the tickets.
"Don't worry. Plenty more to go," Johnno said.
