Page 55 of The Swan Detective (The Swan Syndicate #2)

Stella rushed down the hall, tugging her wrap around her.

Libby raced after her. “You forgot your dagger.”

Stella stopped short and turned around, checking her pockets, though she could clearly see Libby holding the dagger as if she were ready to stab someone.

“I thought I took it out of my other dress.” She’d worn a lovely rose-colored day dress for Beckworth’s tour of London, and though it seemed silly, she’d refused to leave the dagger behind.

“You did take it out, but it was hidden under one of the other dresses.”

Libby meant under one of the multitude of dresses Stella had tossed around the room with her indecisiveness.

She needed the right dress that would fit Lady Swan’s style but would also allow freedom of movement if something went wrong.

Part of the problem was that they’d returned later than they’d planned, with only minutes to spare before dinner.

They were to meet Leclair at ten that evening, which was barely an hour away.

She shoved the dagger in her pocket then continued her march to the stairs. “I don’t know what Beckworth did with my crossbow.”

“He said it was in the coach.”

She stopped again. “I didn’t see it in there.”

“It’s in the boot.”

She continued on as she considered that. Now she remembered. They’d tossed several weapons in the boot before they left the docks the previous evening. Beckworth must have decided to leave them since they’d be needed tonight.

She was halfway down the stairs when she noticed the woman standing in the foyer.

“Elizabeth!” Stella lifted her skirt and rushed down the remaining stairs. “What are you doing here?”

The dowager’s determined expression was hard to read. “I’ve come to wait with Eleanor.”

“I thought there was a party this evening.”

Elizabeth nodded and allowed a footman to remove her cloak. “There is. Mary gave them my regrets.”

“The party would take your mind off things. You know Beckworth will keep you updated.”

She gave Stella a hard look. “I can’t go to a party while you and Beckworth are risking your lives for my necklace.”

Stella took Elizabeth’s arm and guided her to the library. “I’ll do everything I can to retrieve your necklace, but you know there’s more at stake.”

“Of course, I do.”

Stella didn’t mind Elizabeth’s aggravated tone. “Well, keep up that attitude. You’ll need it if you’re going to spend the evening with Bart.”

Elizabeth choked on a laugh, and they had to stop until she got her breath back. There were tears in the dowager’s eyes, and Stella chose to believe it was from the coughing and not desperation over the necklace being returned.

“Stella, we need to leave.”

The women turned as Beckworth marched down the hallway, pulling on the jacket he used when visiting the East End.

“Sorry, Elizabeth.” He kissed her cheek. “I’ve arranged for a light repast to keep everyone energized until our return.”

Elizabeth took his arm. “I want my necklace back, but don’t put yourself in unnecessary risk.”

“Don’t worry.” He gave her a winsome smile that Stella knew he didn’t feel. “This will be a simple trade.”

“Besides,” Stella matched his smile, “we have two crews watching our backs, and Hensley has men keeping an eye on those French firearms.”

It sounded good, but at that moment, Stella wasn’t sure she believed her own words.

They were saved from comforting the dowager when Eleanor strode down the hall like a soldier on a mission. “Don’t worry about them, Elizabeth. They love this type of adventure. Now, Bart is looking for a good game of whist.”

The two women moved toward the library while Beckworth pulled Stella back to the foyer.

“Where have you been?” Stella raced to keep up with him.

“Last-minute instructions with Jamie and Lando.”

“Aren’t they at the docks already? Who’s watching the firearms?”

“As you said, Hensley sent men with the wagon. Stop fretting, and worry more about your own role.”

She huffed as she hurried down the steps where Barrington waited at the open door to the carriage. He gave her a tight grin as she was loaded in with Beckworth right behind her. They didn’t talk on the drive, but held hands, which was words enough.

In order to keep Lady Swan as mysterious as possible, they decided not to venture to the meeting place from the Daphne .

Barrington parked the coach several blocks from the warehouse by the docks, where the exchange of cargo was to take place.

Chester’s crew was familiar with the building.

It was primarily used for overnight storage, and the man who owned the building was known to work with smugglers.

Two of Chester’s crew would stay with Barrington and the coach in case of unexpected trouble.

After the shenanigans with Cheval overtaking their team when Stella had been kidnapped, they weren’t taking any chances.

She also noted six sailors waiting for them—their security detail for the walk to the docks.

Once out of the coach, Barrington opened the boot and handed out the weapons, including additional daggers and swords for anyone who might need them.

When she was handed her crossbow, she lifted a brow. “Won’t it appear strange if I walk in with this?”

“He’s already seen you with a crossbow, and exchanging firearms isn’t for the faint-hearted.” Beckworth tucked his pistol into a thigh holster and attached a scabbard to his belt. “You can be assured Leclair and his men will be heavily armed.”

She gulped. She knew this. Why else had she been concerned about where her crossbow was?

The reality of watching everyone weapon up brought a hiccup of a giggle.

It was like watching a two-hundred-year-old earlier version of a SWAT team preparing for a bust. She ignored the look Beckworth gave her; she couldn’t stop her grin.

It seemed the manic side of her personality slipped out whenever she stormed into danger.

For the briefest moment, she wished AJ and Finn were there with them.

AJ would have her quiver of arrows and bow swung over her shoulder, along with her harness of throwing daggers.

The giggles returned, and she turned away from the men in an attempt to find her game face.

What would the captain think if she burst into hysterical laughter at the theatrics their meeting created?

She calmed when a hand landed on her shoulder, knowing it was Beckworth.

“Let’s get closer to the warehouse. A walk in the brisk air should calm your nerves.”

She took his proffered arm but only nodded because she was scared to open her mouth. When another giggle erupted, Beckworth squeezed her arm.

“Didn’t you take a drink of whiskey before you left?”

“Damn. That explains it. I forgot.”

“I can’t believe Libby did.”

This time she laughed out loud, which released all her pent-up giggles. “She would have asked for both the glass and the bottle, claiming it would calm her nerves while waiting for our safe return.”

“She does have a smart mouth, but it makes her good for jobs.”

“Well, you can’t have it both ways.”

He stopped and turned to face her. His smile made her heart skip a beat. He was a beautiful man, even dressed down as a smuggler, and she could only grin when he said, “Don’t I know it.”

They stopped in an alley a few blocks from the warehouse. Two from the crew waited for them, in addition to a dozen men from the Daphne . Michelson was one of them, and he walked over to meet them.

“Jamie, Lando, and Fitz are in place. The wagon and its guards have arrived.”

Beckworth nodded. “Any word on the captain?”

“Fitz spotted two dozen men coming out of the clubhouse, including the captain. They stopped at another building and picked up an empty wagon.”

“That’s good, right?” Stella asked.

Beckworth tugged at his sleeves. “It’s good that they’re expecting to leave with crates of firearms. The question is whether they’re willing to trade rather than think they can just take.”

B eckworth led their growing group to where the wagon and men waited, two blocks from the meeting place.

Michelson walked a step behind with Stella following.

The eighteen sailors walked three to a row and monitored the buildings, roofs, alleys, and every street they crossed.

He wouldn’t take any chances, and though he should have asked a handful of sailors to walk in front of him, Chester had watchers on the streets.

They would let Beckworth know if there was trouble ahead.

The risk was reduced since Hensley had contacted the night watchmen to keep them out of the area until after the exchange.

The first thing he noticed was the three men with rifles standing at the entrance to the alley.

They kept close to the walls of the buildings to make themselves harder targets, and Beckworth assumed there were another three at the other end of the alley.

These would be Hensley’s men. The spymaster expected the firearms to be returned.

There was a fifty-fifty chance the handful of crates would be lost to the captain, but they’d do their best not to let that happen.

When the men with rifles heard their approach, all three pointed their flintlocks at the group until one recognized Beckworth and lowered his rifle. The men didn’t say anything as they stepped aside to let the group pass before returning to their stations.

Stella had increased her pace to walk next to him. “I know we have a lot of men, but I’m not feeling so good about this.”

He glanced down at her, but she wasn’t looking at him. She’d caught sight of the wagon; her jaw tightened and her brows wrinkled. He’d thought it was just him who felt something was off. He couldn’t put his finger on it because they had the upper hand. Or they should.

“It’s just normal jitters.” He grabbed her hand. It was ice cold and couldn’t be explained away by the light touch of fog that brought a bit of dew.

She gave him that look that confirmed she didn’t believe a thing he said, but there wasn’t anything he could do to relieve her anxiety.

A driver and a man with a rifle sat on the wagon’s bench. No one in their right mind would attempt walking down the alley with the dozen hard-looking men, rifles in hand, huddled around the wagon. They were all Hensley’s men.

Jamie, Lando, and Fitz waited nearby.

“You’re late, little man.” Lando leaned against a building as he sharpened his dagger. The soft sound of blade on whetstone echoed through the alley. For as many men standing around, they were extremely quiet.

“I’d rather not be the first ones to arrive.” Beckworth glanced at Stella, whose worried expression had increased. “And you know how long it takes a woman to get ready.”

Fitz squeezed Stella’s shoulder. “Take a breath. You’re more nervous than a virgin on her wedding night.”

Stella snorted, and his statement seemed to release her tension because she sagged a bit. “I’ll take your word for it. I’ve never married, and it’s been some time since I was a virgin.”

A few of the men laughed, and those who didn’t know her gave her an appraising look. They wouldn’t have expected those words out of a lady, but they’d know soon enough exactly how bold she was.

Fitz grinned at her. “That’s better. Now, just handle this bloke like you did McDuff.”

“We never got this far with McDuff.”

“Maybe not for a trade, but you still led him on a merry chase. Just remember, you’re in charge of all these men.”

Her return laugh had a bit of a croak to it, but she gave the crossbow a loving stroke before leaning toward him. “I’d believe your Irish blarney if I thought you’d listen to a thing I’d ask of you.”

“I’ve been telling him that for too many years to count.” Jamie gave her a wink. “Are you ready, lass?”

She sobered quickly, and when she glanced at Beckworth, he nodded and gave her the one piece of advice she always followed.

“Time for your game face.”

“Where’s the meeting place from here?” she asked.

“Just another block or so.” Beckworth leaned in and touched her cheek. “You’ve got this.”

Beckworth took the lead with their expanded group, including Jamie, Lando, and Fitz. All of Hensley’s men would remain with the wagon until it was needed.

They walked without speaking, but their boots made enough noise on the cobblestone streets to announce their arrival. When they were two buildings down from the warehouse, Beckworth stopped.

“Michelson and I will lead you through the entrance, and once we confirm it’s safe, we’ll step aside for you to take the lead. The rest of the men will have your back.”

She listened intently. They’d gone over the plan twice while they’d eaten dinner, though she’d only picked at her food. Nervous energy was to be expected; he just needed her to expel it before going in.

“Do you remember the items of jewelry that were taken?” he asked.

She rolled her eyes. “Of course.” Her tone was snappish.

“Do you honestly think I can’t remember jewelry?

” She stormed off but stopped after several steps.

One hand landed on her hip, and her grip appeared to tighten on the crossbow, though the dim light made it difficult to confirm.

She glanced over her shoulder and demanded, “Are you coming or not? We’re late. ”

He could have sworn he caught a hint of humor in her tone. Either way, she’d found her game face.