Page 40 of The Swan Detective (The Swan Syndicate #2)

Stella tugged on her waistband, sorry she hadn’t worn a dress after all of Libby’s nagging.

“What are you doing?” Libby asked. She was tucked behind a stack of crates that barely covered her head.

“Just getting more comfortable,” Stella whispered back. She’d curled up next to a barrel, and her right leg had gone to sleep.

“I told you not to wear those pants.” Libby’s brows lifted, and her lips were twitching. “What’s wrong with them? Aren’t they the same ones you wore the last time you were here?”

“Yes. And they were a bit snug then. I should have tried them on before leaving Baywood. With all those garden parties and balls, I think I’ve picked up an extra pound or two.”

Libby grinned. “Beckworth doesn’t seem to mind.”

Her cheeks flushed, and she peeked around the barrel.

“I don’t think he’s come back out.” They were lucky to have seen the thief before he entered the pub.

The same one he’d run to the night of the ball, but no one had stayed to see where the thief went after the pub.

In Stella’s experience, and not an unpopular opinion, people are creatures of habit.

A sailor might go to another pub if he were meeting a friend or going with a group.

But on their own? She’d bet money a sailor stuck to the same pub.

A place they grew comfortable with. So, maybe not all luck.

Libby leaned over to look at the pub’s door.

Her eyes searched the surrounding area before leaning back against a crate.

“It hasn’t been that long. We just need to wait.

Maybe he’s meeting a contact or having a leisurely dinner.

” She peered around the crate, glancing up.

“The pub owner might rent out rooms on the second floor.” She squirmed into a different position.

“I hadn’t planned on sitting out here all night, either. ”

“We should have found a better place for our stakeout.” She ignored Libby’s questioning stare, not up to explaining what a stakeout was. She rubbed her leg and muffled a whimper when she rolled to her left. Pins and needles ran up her leg, and she squeezed her eyes shut as she rode out the pain.

“Are you sure this is the guy?” Libby sounded as dubious as she had the first time Stella pointed him out.

“Not at first, but once the pub door opened and that guy in a cape stopped him before going in, I got a good look. I’m sure.” She’d never forget that sneer. It must be a common expression for him.

Libby giggled. “It wasn’t a cape; it was a cloak.”

Stella grinned. “If you say so.” She rubbed her head where the thief had hit her. The pain was gone, and the bruise had faded to an ugly yellow, but the memory was as real as yesterday.

Libby’s smile faded. “We should tell Beckworth or Captain Jamie. The Daphne ’s not far from here.”

“It would take too long, and I don’t like the idea of splitting up.

We need to know where he’s going. I have a feeling he’s staying on a ship.

” That would fit with her first impression that he was a sailor.

“It would be better if we knew who he was meeting with. Maybe it’s a buyer, or someone who sells the jewelry for him.

We should just go inside and get a table. ”

“That would draw too many eyes.” Libby checked the door again, and not seeing anything of importance, glanced back at Sella. “And a proper lady would be spending Beckworth’s money in a reputable place and wouldn’t be dressed like some natty boy.”

Stella snorted. “You do recognize the problem with that statement.”

Libby rolled her eyes. “There’s nothing special about being a proper lady. Still, what if Beckworth is home when we return and sees you wearing pants?”

“I’ve already thought of that. I have a day dress and different shoes in the duffel.”

Libby grabbed the bag and looked inside. “I thought you might have brought a snack and your crossbow.”

Stella sighed. She hated to admit that she’d thought of bringing the crossbow.

It wasn’t safe for two women to be on their own by the docks.

She didn’t worry about Libby, who was raised on the streets.

Stella was handy with a dagger in close quarters, but her throwing aim needed improvement.

A weapon that could be used from a distance seemed safer.

She could handle a flintlock, but the crossbow was faster to reload.

Libby tossed a pebble at her and motioned toward the pub.

Two men had exited and scanned the street.

They were both dressed for a finer pub, though not fancy enough for a ball, but any doubt she might have had vanished.

The guy on the right was the thief. The other man seemed familiar, but she couldn’t place him.

For now, he wasn’t worth the distraction.

She’d eventually remember where she’d seen him before.

“Do you think the guy on the left is his partner?” Stella asked. “You know, the one who created the distractions.”

“Anything is possible.” Libby moved from her seated position into a squat.

Stella did the same, wincing at the numbness still lingering in her legs. She tugged at the backside of her pants, wishing she hadn’t eaten dessert. She rubbed her legs while she waited for Libby to make a move. This was her area of expertise.

The sound of the men’s receding footsteps had almost disappeared before Libby crawled out of their hiding place and hurried down the street, her shoes silent on the cobblestones. Stella followed several feet behind her, wincing at the sound of her boots that were hushed but not completely silent.

When they reached the end of the building, Libby put a finger to her lips. This was the hard part. Stella wasn’t known for keeping her mouth shut, but when she pictured handing Elizabeth’s necklace back to her, it suddenly wasn’t so hard to stay quiet.

Libby stopped frequently, her head lifting and tilting to one side as she listened.

When she moved, it was quick, and Stella held her duffel close as she trailed behind.

They traveled down two streets and two alleys before coming to another street with more activity, though that wasn’t saying much.

A couple scurried by, and sailors stumbled from one pub to the next.

Libby peered around the corner and, seeming satisfied, waved for Stella to stand next to her.

Stella huddled next to Libby in time to see the two men enter a door that had no visible signage. At least, not that she could see. If it were a pub, there should be a sign hanging overhead. Maybe there was one on the door that wasn’t easy to see at night.

“I think I saw a man greet them just inside the door,” Libby whispered.

They fell back against the brick wall. Libby’s breath came fast, but Stella didn’t think it was from fear or their on-and-off run through the backstreets of London. If she had to guess, her lady’s maid loved the thrill and adventure.

Stella’s heavy breathing was more from overindulging during her time in London. When her heart rate lowered, she glanced up and noticed Libby staring up at a building across the alley from them.

“What are you looking at?” She glanced up to see what caught Libby’s attention.

“There are two people in that upper warehouse window.”

Stella leaned over to get a better view, but only caught a glimpse of shadows as someone, maybe two someones, turned away from the window. “That seems strange. Why would there be someone up there in the dark?”

Libby squinted as she continued to stare at the window. “I think Beckworth might be up to something.”

“You think that was Beckworth?”

Libby nodded. “And Lando.”

“How could you tell with no light?” Although when she considered it, there had been a light glow. Maybe from a lantern in a different room or on the first floor.

“There was enough shadow, not to see a face, but body movement. I could be wrong, but someone was watching the street. It might be a coincidence.”

“Or maybe they’re watching that door.”

“There are a lot of doors on this street. They might have their own secret meeting, and they were watching the street for anyone following them.” Libby rubbed her face.

“Maybe I just thought it was Beckworth because I expect him to jump out from a side street at any moment. Where did you say he went this evening?”

“A gentleman’s club with Hensley.”

Before Libby could respond, her head spun around. “Someone’s coming.” She grabbed Stella’s hand.

Before she took a step, Stella reached into a pocket, pulled out a swan, and dropped it.

Libby watched it float to the ground. “What’s that for?”

“If Beckworth is out there, he’ll know.”

“And if he’s not?”

She shrugged. “It’s not like there’s a limited supply of paper swans.” In fact, after she’d made the swans for the staff’s children, she’d continued to make more. They were everywhere in the manor.

They giggled like schoolgirls as they ran.

Stella tried to pay attention to the streets they turned down, but it didn’t take long for Libby to get her lost, and she was grateful she’d thought to stuff several swans in her pockets.

There were more in the duffel, though Libby barely slowed down for Stella to drop the swans.

She dropped one at each turn, leaving it on the right side of the street or alley if they turned right, and one on the left side if they went that way. Beckworth, as well as anyone from the Daphne , would know what that meant.

Libby’s pace increased, and Stella didn’t ask why. The footsteps behind them were getting louder. There was no doubt they were being followed.

When Libby turned down an alley filled with dozens of crates and barrels, the nasty scent of the Thames invaded her senses and told her they were close to the docks. She almost rammed into Libby when she came to an abrupt stop.

“Help me move this over.” Libby pushed at a barrel.