Page 60 of The Scot Who Loved Me

Anne eyed Will cradling his tea with both hands. “Not so strange, I think.”

“I’m surprised the countess gave your warehouse any consideration,” he said. “I remember her rebuffing small business concerns as no’ worth her time.”

“You have it backward. I didn’t seek the countess. She sought me with an offer to buy it.”

“When?”

“Last June. I told you about that yesterday at Grosvenor Square.”

Will scowled. “I thought you went to her man of business with an offer to sell.” His scowl deepened. “You say she approached you in June?”

She refolded the note, dogged by foreboding. How confident she’d been that her league was too small to draw notice. But a woman powerful enough to bribe an audience with Dr. Cameron might be canny enough to find out women, commoners no less, had been asking about her.

“Yes, she approached me in June.”

“Afore or after Dr. Cameron’s execution?”

“After.”

Will scrubbed a hand across his mouth. “There’s a chance she knows.”

Anne tapped the letter on the table, absorbing this blow. Three slender, plain gold rings glinted on her fingers. Graceful and fierce, she would fight. A shift in her chair and she met Will’s gaze.

“It doesn’t matter if she knows about the league. It won’t stop us.”

“How can you be so sure?” Aunt Maude asked Will. “Lady Denton’s family is steeped in shipping and merchant trade.”

“They are. But ask yourself, why would a woman whose father was among the first directors of the United Company of Merchants of England trading to the East Indies be interested in Anne’s little warehouse on Gun Wharf?”

Aunt Maude set down her biscuit. Aunt Flora’s aged fingers worried her dish. They had no answer.

“Her brother, the Marquess of Swynford, has a seat at the director’s table now. Through him and the family shares, the countess has more money than we can imagine to have in our lifetime.” He paused. “Do you really believe a woman with that kind of wealth would want an insignificant dock? In this part of Southwark?”

The older sisters exchanged worried glances. Will tried to reassure them.

“She may no’ have taken notice of you two.”

Aunt Maude smiled at her sister. “Because, dear, you and I are old.”

“All the more reason for Cecelia, Margaret, Mary, and me to look after you.” Anne’s smile was thecheer upvariety.

Aunt Flora patted Anne’s hand. “I’ve lived too long tae be afraid of that woman.”

“That’s the spirit.” Anne rose from the table with renewed purpose.

Nothing was going to stop them from taking back Jacobite gold—not king or countess or one cautious highlander. Thus, she walked to her kitchen and fed the morning’s missives to the flames.

Chapter Nineteen

They crossed Horn Yard onto Stoney Lane. Sunshine sneaked through gritty clouds, shining grandly on the road’s questionable muck and more questionable puddles. He was a man on a mission, following a woman on a mission to shop as quickly as possible. If Will didn’t know any better, he’d say Anne wanted to lose him in the late morning crowd.

“Why the hurry, Mrs. Neville?”

“I had planned to shop alone.” Anne stopped their progress to let three carters pass. “It’s easier that way.”

“And deny me the privilege of carrying your basket?”

She gave him the side-eye. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re holding it to make sure I don’t give you the slip.”