Page 67 of The Swan Detective (The Swan Syndicate #2)

Beckworth followed behind Stella, frustrated by the townspeople who were obviously hiding firearms but were stubbornly tight-lipped. He understood, not as well as Jamie and Fitz did, but well enough, having grown up in London’s East End.

This seaside Irish village had no love of the English. What they didn’t understand was that the French wouldn’t treat them any better. As much as they might believe France would be a more generous overlord, it was doubtful they’d see their independence under Napoleon.

“This has been frustrating.” Stella ran a hand through her auburn hair. Its wavy nature had taken over, giving her an appearance of a beautiful lass who’d just woken for the day. Her uncontrollable hair drove her mad, but he found it alluring.

He scanned the area. Something didn’t feel right, but he couldn’t put his finger on what bothered him. “The townspeople are vexed with England and see salvation in the lies McDuff has been spreading. You’ve spent time with the man. You know how charismatic he can be.”

“And just as deadly.”

“Stella! Lady Stella!” A young girl’s voice came from behind them, and they both turned to see a young pixie with freckles that matched the color of her strawberry-blonde locks. She raced toward them, tripping over something but able to remain on her feet.

Stella grinned and squatted down to meet the girl on her level. “Hello, Sadie. I wasn’t sure we’d see you today.”

Sadie pushed back her long, windswept hair and gave Stella a huge grin. Her smile was missing two top teeth, which only made her adorable. “Sean said you were leaving today. Can’t you stay until the fair?”

Stella glanced up at Beckworth, and he shook his head, sorry that he couldn’t make that happen. They were too close to finding McDuff to waste three days waiting for the fair.

Stella tucked a strand of gold-streaked hair behind the girl’s ear. “I wish we could, but we’ve overstayed our time here.”

The girl frowned. “People haven’t been very nice to you.”

“They just don’t know us as well as you do. We’re strangers. We understand.”

Sadie stepped back and kicked a rock. “Well, I don’t.”

Stella held out her hand. “We’re on our way to the fish market. Why don’t you walk with us? I bet we can find something sweet to eat.”

Sadie looked at Beckworth as if she were sizing him up again. He smiled and nodded his encouragement. She must have approved because she shrugged and gripped Stella’s hand. “Okay. It will have to do.”

Stella grinned at Beckworth and held out her other hand to him.

He took it and they strolled down the street toward the fish vendors.

They’d only walked a block when Beckworth noticed a man hurrying down the other side of the street.

His head was down, his shoulders hunched, making it impossible for Beckworth to see the man’s face.

There was something familiar about him; he just couldn’t pin down what it was.

The man sprinted across the town’s park, heading in the direction of the church.

Interesting.

He squeezed Stella’s hand, and when she turned to him, he nodded toward the park. Stella glanced over, a frown marring her beautiful face. He glanced down at the girl, then said, “I forgot something back at the mercantile. I’ll catch up.”

Stella’s frown deepened. “I’ll let Jamie know.” Something in her eyes made him pause, but the man was up to something. He was sure of it. “Be careful.”

Sadie looked up to Stella. “Why does he have to be careful? No one will hurt him.”

She ran a hand over the girl’s hair. “I know. It’s just something we say to each other when we go off on our own.”

Sadie gave it some thought. “I guess that’s a nice thing to say.”

Stella smiled. “That it is. Come on, I’ll race you.”

Beckworth watched them run off. Fortunately for Stella, Sadie didn’t run that fast, but Stella wanted to get to Jamie without scaring the girl.

It was probably nothing, but he hurried across the street to the park, scanning the area for any other suspicious-looking men.

He didn’t see anything that drew his attention.

He quickened his pace. The man was already out of sight, and he moved into a light jog. Then he saw the man climbing the steps into the church.

No one thought to check the church, but what a perfect place to hide firearms. He could be wrong, but the man racing into the building didn’t look like he’d been in a rush to confess his sins.

Beckworth raced up the steps, slowing before he went through the front door.

He kept a hand on his flintlock and slowly entered.

It was deathly silent. He moved through the lobby to the open double doors that led into the nave.

Ten long, wooden pews lined both sides of the aisle, which ended at the dais.

A sound of a door closing came from the right, and he ran that way. The first door he came to opened to a supply closet. The next one, just a few paces down the short hallway, opened to a set of stairs. Muffled voices floated up to him.

He pulled out his pistol and cocked it before slowly taking one step at a time. He was almost to the basement when the voices became louder, and he heard the low whimpering of children. What the bloody hell?

The stairs ended at a small landing that turned to the left.

He peeked around the corner, but whoever the men were, they were still out of sight.

However, a good portion of the room was within view.

There was a bookcase that held handmade toys, a few books, a flute, and a ball.

He only saw one wall, which was painted white and covered with children’s artwork.

The men’s voices began to rise, and he took the last three steps quickly, lifting his gun as he surveyed the room.

Two men faced each other, neither looking in his direction.

The man he’d seen on the street was older than Beckworth, of average height and weight, and had the weathered face of a sailor.

The other was a priest. He was slight of build, but he faced the sailor with anger rather than fear.

Six children huddled in a corner, their faces filled with terror, and Beckworth understood why. The sailor held a pistol that he waved around, first at the priest and then at the children.

“I need the key,” the man said. “I’m not going to ask again.”

“For the last time, I don’t have it.” For all his apparent fierceness, the priest’s voice was shaky. “They don’t trust me with it.”

“I’ll shoot the kids. I don’t care. I need what’s in those crates.”

The priest shook his head and lifted his hands in supplication, as if that alone could defend him from a lead ball piercing his body.

“I suggest you put that gun away.” Beckworth took several steps, his pistol firm in his grip as he leveled it at the sailor. “You don’t want to do this.” He moved toward the children, who appeared to be a wide mix of ages, while keeping his gun trained on the man.

The sailor turned his gun toward Beckworth, but his hand shook. If he fired, there was no telling where the ball would go. “Who are you?” He glanced at the priest then back at Beckworth. “You don’t sound Irish. You can’t be from here.”

“Let’s just calm down and talk this through. We can do it without the weapons.” Beckworth glanced at the priest. Though his expression remained stoic, beads of sweat glistened off his forehead.

“You need to stay out of our business.” The man forgot all about the priest as he turned toward Beckworth.

“Alright. As long as you let me take the children out of here. They’re not part of this.

” By then, he’d managed to get in front of the huddled group, and he forced himself to ignore the tear-streaked faces of the youngest children.

Two older boys had moved in front of the younger kids, and though they didn’t shed any tears, they were as frightened as they were bold. Protectors.

The sailor sneered. “I think maybe I should just take you out and then finish off the rest of them.”

Beckworth was ready to take the shot when an explosion rocked the church.

S tella released Sadie’s hand so she could run ahead of her.

She could run in the boots when she had to, but this wasn’t one of those times.

Sadie slowed so Stella could keep up, but the girl didn’t stop until she reached the vendor where Stella had bought sweet tarts the day before.

The woman who ran the stall wasn’t fond of Stella.

Most of the townspeople weren’t happy with anyone from the Daphne Marie , but that didn’t deter her from spending money at the local businesses.

“Stella!”

She turned to see Jamie jogging up to her. Everyone seemed to be running today.

“Where’s Beckworth?” He opened his mouth to say something when he spotted Sadie by her side.

Stella held up a finger, then turned to order a sweet tart from the woman who was giving her the stink-eye. She felt a tug on her dress and looked down.

“Molly is over by the dock.” Sadie pointed in that direction, and Stella noticed the tall blonde girl, who was about Sadie’s age. The girl waved at them.

“Do you think Molly would like a sweet tart?” When Sadie nodded, Stella ordered a second tart from the mulish woman, who gave her a reluctant smile as they exchanged coin for tarts.

“Thank you, Lady Stella.” Sadie hugged Stella’s legs, then ran toward Molly. The two girls chattered as they wandered off down the dock, nibbling the tarts.

“I think I just got swindled,” Stella quipped and winked at the woman.

The woman had to grin, most likely at Stella being a chump. “Those two are nothing but trouble.”

Stella returned the smile. “Just my kind of girls.”

“Stella, we have to go.” Jamie tugged at her arm.

She sensed his urgency and waved at the woman before he pulled her away, rushing them toward the dock where they’d left the jolly boat.

“Where’s Beckworth?” This time, Jamie’s tone was filled with a combination of anger and concern.

“What’s wrong?”

Jamie stopped as Fitz, who also looked worried, ran up to them. Then he refocused on Stella. “Just tell me.”

“He saw a man who looked suspicious and wanted to check it out.” Now worry plagued her as well as she glanced back the way she’d come. “I think he was headed toward the church. What’s going on?”

“A ship just arrived with open gun ports. They’re a threat to the village. The Daphne is bringing her broadside to bear.”

“I don’t know what that means.” That was a partial lie. She had a pretty good idea what he meant, and it was confirmed when Fitz answered.

“It means the Daphne is turning with gun ports open to engage the ship.”

“They’re going to battle? This close to port?” Her voice rose an octave. “What ship is it?”

“It’s The Horseman .” Jamie gripped her arm. “You need to get to the jolly boat.”

She yanked her arm away. “Not without Beckworth.”

Jamie blew out a breath. He was thinking of fighting her on this but must have decided it would only be wasting time. “Let’s go.”

She broke into a run behind Jamie and Fitz, thankful she’d saved her energy from earlier.

They were almost to the park when the men stopped and yanked Stella to the ground.

She heard a swooshing sound mere seconds before a huge explosion rocked the ground.

Seconds later, another explosion could be heard from the cove.

Then she was being hauled up as they continued their run to the church. Townspeople were also running toward it, while some were running away.

Dust filled the air, blocking her view of the building.

Her heart beat like a drum solo, and her stomach lurched.

A second loud boom came from the cove, and she turned in time to see a large sail fall into the smoke and orange flames that she assumed were on The Horseman based on its position in the bay.

When she turned back to the church, she gasped in horror. Dust still filled the air, but it had cleared enough for her to see that the entire building appeared to have collapsed upon itself. They stopped twenty yards from it.

Several men were trying to move the rubble as others ran up to assist. She would have questioned why the men were so frantic to remove the splintered wood and crumbled stone, but only one thing kept pounding in her head.

Beckworth had been in that building.

She hadn’t seen him go in, but she knew it. She knew it deep down in her heart that clenched with a horrific pain.

“ The Horseman is sailing off,” Fitz said.

“They accomplished what they came for.” Jamie had taken a step back toward the dock but stopped. “They won’t get far with a broken mast.”

“And they know the Daphne won’t follow. Not now.” Fitz kicked the dirt, then turned back to the church. “Are you sure he was in there, lass?”

The townsmen continued to pull wooden boards and rocks away. One of the men fell away from the rubble and turned to the people who clustered around, obviously in shock as they stared and mumbled to each other.

He yelled at them. “There were children in the church.”

That triggered some of the onlookers to jump in, but there was so much debris, it would take hours to make a dent.

Children and Beckworth.

Stella dropped to the ground. Tears blurred her vision. She should be helping, but every ounce of energy had drained away.

It wasn’t supposed to end like this. Not now. He couldn’t be in there. He couldn’t be lost to her. When she looked up at Jamie, searching for any sign of hope, he was still staring at the building, and she was sorry when she glanced at Fitz.

Their expressions told her everything she didn’t want to know. She burst into a full-on crying jag as she leaned over, one hand fisted against her chest. The other clawed at the grass as if she could tear up the ground to find him.

Oh, god, Teddy. Don’t you dare leave me. You promised me forever.

The tears stopped as quickly as they came. Anger flared. Anger at The Horseman for firing on innocent people. Anger at McDuff and his entire goddamned network. Anger at Beckworth for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

She huffed out a long sob, then got to her feet. Jamie and Fitz stood next to her like sentinels. She began walking but was soon running toward the broken building. He was in there. Dead or alive, she wouldn’t leave until she found him.