Page 7 of The Swan Detective (The Swan Syndicate #2)

Beckworth stepped out of the coach and stared up at Hensley’s London manor.

He’d known before they’d ever left Baywood that Hensley would dangle a mission in front of him in the hopes of luring him in.

Beckworth was ready this time. When he and Stella had come back the first time for a holiday hunting party, he’d been unprepared for Hensley to be waiting for him.

It had proved easy for the spymaster to manipulate him into pursuing a dangerous smuggler.

After his years of working for the crews, he’d fallen into league with the duke, his despicable father, who’d been as corrupt as they came.

Beckworth had been naive and foolish to believe he could garner his father’s favor.

The old man treated him no better than one of his henchmen, giving him assignments that Beckworth continued to atone for long after the man’s death.

Even with Stella’s relentless soothing words that he wasn’t that man—had never been that man—he couldn’t be thoroughly convinced.

The one good thing he’d been given during his time with the duke was his title.

Everyone assumed he’d also received Waverly Manor from the duke, but the only role his father had played was in the money he’d paid Beckworth for his services.

Not that it was enough to purchase a manor.

But the duke had introduced him to parts of society he’d never thought to mingle with.

His work with the crews taught Beckworth how to build contacts, identify weaknesses, and negotiate.

It was these skills that led to the appropriate connections, which assisted in selecting the proper investments.

Not only did the investments provide the funds to purchase Waverly, but they also helped him establish a network of opportunities that continued to pay off.

With each visit back to Waverly, Beckworth cashed in on part of that legacy to support a good living in Baywood, though they didn’t need much to thrive. Their life in Baywood was simpler than in this era.

The problem was that Hensley understood Beckworth’s need for intrigue.

The danger just happened to come with the territory, though not all of Hensley’s missions were life-threatening.

He could have walked away from the last one.

Let Jamie and his crew set sail on the Daphne Marie without him.

It had only been a seek-and-find mission.

Hensley and Jamie knew Beckworth too well and counted on his inability to say no.

Stella had also known he couldn’t turn down a mission.

Yet, he’d danced around the topic, worried—more like terrified—of telling her that she would need to play lady of the manor and work with Barrington to prepare for the party and their guests.

He snorted.

What the hell had he been thinking? In the end, she’d manipulated her way into the mission behind his back.

The thought of that adventure sent a sliver of thrill through him.

It had been an erotic as well as a dangerous journey that had almost gotten them killed.

Hell, she still traveled with that damn crossbow.

He’d seen it in her trunk before they’d left Waverly, but he’d said nothing.

He picked his battles with Stella, and she was still working through her part in Cheval’s death.

The sound of the coach driving away pulled him out of his reverie, and he jogged up the steps, eager to see his old friends. The butler waved him down the hall, used to Beckworth showing up on their doorstep. He hadn’t reached the study when Fitz’s boisterous laughter echoed into the hall.

He knocked once, then entered. “I hope you weren’t telling stories about me.”

“Beckworth!” The group was almost in sync with their enthusiastic greeting.

Jamie was the first to jump up to shake his hand, his eyes lit with amusement and a touch of melancholy.

The two had been enemies, as he had been with Finn and Ethan, and pretty much everyone else in the room.

But once they’d begun to trust him, he and Jamie developed something more profound, and Beckworth missed his friend.

The rest of the team were as he expected to find them.

Hensley was entrenched behind his desk, a quill in his hand as he jotted down his latest thought.

Lando leaned against a wall, his arms folded across his broad chest, while Fitz sat on a stool, a glass of whiskey nearby, and devoured what looked like a meat pie.

Thomas, somewhat new to the team, rested in a chair by a low-burning fire. Known for being a serious man, the ex-Sergeant of Arms for the late Earl of Hereford had relaxed and become more jovial since working for Hensley.

“How was the trip?” Jamie poured Beckworth a glass of whiskey.

“After Maire and Sebastian modified the incantation, the jump was less bumpy, but we seem to be off a day.” Beckworth leaned back and sipped the Jameson whiskey, a plentiful contraband in the Daphne ’s cargo.

“And I’m grateful for that.” Lando grinned at Fitz. “It earned me some extra coin.”

Fitz growled but couldn’t respond with his mouth full of meat pie.

Beckworth shared tales about their friends now living in Baywood. Fitz recounted their voyages and missions, with occasional corrections from Jamie and Lando when the stories became more fairytale than truth.

Hensley refilled his drink, and when he resettled behind the desk, he got right to the point of the meeting. “I know this might appear suspicious, considering the last time Beckworth visited us on the cusp of a new mission.” He paused and lifted his eyes from his notes to read the room.

Beckworth remained expressionless, as did everyone except Fitz, who snorted.

No one had been fooled by Hensley when he’d surprised the group with a mission to locate the smuggler, McDuff.

It had been clear as day to all of them that Hensley had waited until Beckworth returned to Waverly, with hopes of enticing him to join.

Hensley cleared his throat and returned to his notes.

“Our time in London was to be a social visit with Beckworth, and for the most part, I think it still will be. The Daphne moored at a dock near East End three days ago. As you can surmise, the crew has been on liberty since then. A day ago, Michelson and Lane came to Jamie with information they’d picked up from the crew. ”

Michelson and Lane were shipmates on the Daphne Marie and had been helpful with the last mission. They were excellent with surveillance, and if they’d heard something from the crews, they would have checked it out themselves before going to Jamie.

“It appears,” Jamie took up the report, “there have been whispers of smugglers in port. It was interesting, but who isn’t smuggling these days?

” Everyone gave a small chuckle at that.

It was wartime, and supplies were difficult to obtain through normal routes.

“It was when the name McDuff was heard that the crew took note.”

“It was only two or three times,” Fitz added. “But when Michelson and Lane visited the pubs late in the evening when the ale hit the sailors hard, they were able to confirm there’s something going on with McDuff.”

“Pretty foolhardy to show up in London,” Thomas said. “The man is still wanted for previous crimes and should be waiting a hangman’s noose.”

“McDuff might not be in London.” Lando moved away from the wall and picked at the leftover remains on the silver platter. “Maybe it’s someone working for McDuff and they’ll meet up with him later. McDuff could be in Ireland for all we know.”

“And if that’s true,” Beckworth chimed in, “he would have sent someone he trusted to watch over their task. Do you know which ship they’re from?”

“We believe they’re from the Nighthawk .” Jamie sipped whiskey before adding, “It’s docked on the far side of Wapping.”

Beckworth nodded as he considered their dilemma. “Do we know who the captain is?”

“That is why you’re all here.” Hensley took back the reins.

“We need to confirm if any of McDuff’s men are on board.

We also need more information on what they’re doing here.

It would be foolish to pick up or unload contraband here, but not impossible.

But why take the risk? Something else must be going on. ”

“We need to know the hierarchy on the ship.” Beckworth sat up, a plan already forming. “Confirm who the captain and first mate are, and which men are the closest to them.”

“It would be easier if we could just nab one.” Thomas chuckled. “It’s not too surprising to lose a sailor in the East End, but with our luck, we’d take one who didn’t know anything.”

Beckworth responded with a laugh. “You’re bloody right, mate. There always seems to be a twist we never see coming.” He rubbed his jaw. “There’s only a handful of us who’ve seen any of McDuff’s men. If we monitor the sailors leaving the ship, we can tail anyone who looks familiar.”

“The sailors could be going anywhere.” Jamie leaned back, his hands behind his head as he considered the idea. “But if they’re meeting up with anyone, chances are they’re keeping to one or two pubs.”

“We need to keep this quiet,” Hensley said. “From everyone.” His stern gaze landed on Beckworth.

He meant Stella. Beckworth didn’t like keeping secrets from her. It never ended well. But if she knew about this mission, regardless of how small it was, she’d want to get involved. He gave Hensley a slight nod. It shouldn’t be too difficult to keep Stella preoccupied in London.

Hensley returned the nod. “Thomas will work with Jamie to organize schedules and gathering of information.” He looked at Thomas.

“Keep in mind that some of us will be expected at social functions and plan accordingly. I’ll determine a meeting schedule to report on activities.

Now, if there’s nothing else, I have a surprise waiting for you in the stables.

” He stood and rubbed his hands together, his eyes lit with excitement.