Page 21 of The Swan Syndicate #1

Stella folded a swan while she listened to Beckworth repeat their short evening at the pub for a second time.

When they’d left the pub, Beckworth dragged her down the dock, mumbling “What were you thinking?” over and over.

At first, she wasn’t sure whether he was asking the question of himself or if he was speaking to her.

She decided both answers were probably correct and it would be best not to interrupt.

It appeared they were returning to the ship, and she’d hear an earful there.

She’d sighed in relief when they met Fitz in the galley, feet on the table as he nursed a whiskey, but her brow rose at seeing Lando sitting next to him.

“I’d just left Lane and Michelson at the inn and was going back to a pub I’d been at earlier,” he explained.

“It wasn’t difficult to pick out Fitz ducking in and out of the crowd in his rush to the ship.

I’ve seen that limp a dozen times and knew something was wrong.

I updated Lane and Michelson and then hurried back here. They’ll be along shortly.”

Beckworth had been halfway through the first telling of their evening when the two sailors arrived, and he began from the beginning. Once the story was finished, Lando went to find Jamie.

The young captain must have been asleep because he yawned before he dropped into the closest chair.

Since Cook was visiting his family, Michelson brought him a tin of coffee.

Jamie looked quite irresistible with his bedhead look.

She’d have to pay more attention to what type of woman interested him, for Mary and Elizabeth, of course.

They loved to play matchmaker. She grinned as she made the next fold.

At his age, he probably didn’t have a type yet and was most likely not fussy. Ah, to be young again.

Beckworth must have finished the second telling because Jamie sat straighter and his eyes regained a focused brightness. He poured a shot’s worth of whiskey into his coffee. If he was going to comment, he never had a chance as Beckworth turned toward her and unleashed his pent-up frustration.

“I can’t believe you stood up to him. We’re supposed to be unobtrusive.” He stood with hands on hips, and she bit a lip so she wouldn’t grin. If he weren’t so mad, she’d point out that he was using her angry pose now that the tables were turned.

Rather than throw gas on the flames, she tried for a middle-of-the-road approach. “He looked like he was following Fitz. I thought I’d give him a head start.”

“Fitz is a professional. He knows what he’s doing.”

“Actually,” Fitz cut in. “The delay got me to the ship before anyone could follow.”

Beckworth turned on Fitz. “You’re not helping.”

“You have to admit, he caved quickly once he realized we’d drawn a crowd.” Stella finished her last fold and set the swan on the table, lightly tapping a wing before giving him her full attention.

“Except now he knows you. He remembered you from earlier today, and he won’t forget the next time.”

“We’re leaving tomorrow.” Her reasoning seemed sound. “There won’t be a next time.”

“Alright, the lot of you. I’ve heard enough,” Jamie barked.

“Well, that might not be exactly true.” Fitz had removed his boots from the table when Jamie had joined them, and he now leaned his elbows on it instead, knowing he’d gotten their attention.

When it didn’t appear he was going to continue, Beckworth sighed and asked, “What isn’t true?”

He shrugged and pulled out his pipe but didn’t light it. “You’ve all been so interested in Stella’s daring that you’ve overlooked the important part.” He gave them each a long look. “The reason why I was hurrying out of there in the first place.”

Everyone glanced at each other and realized at the same time he was right.

The laughter eased the tension, and when Stella glanced at Fitz, happy he redirected the conversation, he gave her a wink as he polished a spot on his pipe.

Once the laughter stopped, the men leaned in to hear what the first mate had to say.

“I’d been to two other pubs before this one and just happened to find a spot toward the end of the bar between a couple blokes more interested in their mugs than conversation.

I was hunched over, listening to a nearby table while keeping my face hidden.

So, when these three men strode by, I was able to get a decent look at them, but as far as I could tell, they never looked at me.

“They stopped at the end of the bar on the other side of the man to my right. Since my mate was the quiet type, I was able to listen to them while still paying attention to the discussion at a nearby table.” He tapped his ears. “I’ve trained them to do that.”

Stella understood. She’d developed a similar skill after listening to husbands and wives who spoke over each other when voicing their likes and dislikes as they toured a house for sale. She gave him a nod in understanding, and he grinned as he moved on with his tale.

“This new group was speaking Welsh, which made me think about what Stella reported earlier. I was able to pick up a few words—shipments, a cove just north of here, and then a ship. The Horseman .” He shook his head.

“And that was right about the time some drunken sod ran into me, which caught the attention of the three men. One of them had been giving me a glance every few minutes, but I didn’t think he found me of any interest. But the drunk wouldn’t stop apologizing, and that’s when I decided a swift exit was the best. I knew when I was halfway to the door that one of them was following me.

Not a better time for Beckworth and Stella to enter. ”

He sat back. His eyes were hard, and his lips thinned as he gripped the pipe. “I know we have our mission, but can we really forget what we’re hearing? You know what must be in those shipments.”

Stella glanced around the table as they all nodded, expressions solemn. “Well, I don’t.”

“Flintlocks. Possibly direct from France,” Beckworth answered her question.

“More than that if I know Cheval.” Jamie stood and went to the galley, returning with a pitcher of ale. He filled his mug and then the others.

“Didn’t you say this MacDuff person you’re trying to find was somehow connected with the French?” Stella folded a second swan, allowing the men to determine if her question made sense.

“The two captains working together.” Beckworth considered it as he rubbed his jaw. “An interesting thought, but so far, all we have are rumors that MacDuff is active again, men dropping Cheval’s name in pubs, and a group of men talking of secret shipments and The Horsemen .”

“Were the men at the pub the same ones at the inn earlier today?” Jamie asked Beckworth.

“Their backs were to me at the inn. Stella, did you get a look at the men at the pub?”

She nodded. “I didn’t recognize the man who ran into me.

” She grinned and so did the men, knowing quite well she’d been the one to run into him.

“But one of the men at the inn kept his back to me. His size was the same, and since the bruiser who knocked me to the ground recognized me, then I’d say they’re one and the same. ”

Jamie’s face relaxed except for the wrinkled forehead. It was the same look Finn got when he was ready to make a decision. “So, we have men in town ready to make a run. It’s possible they’re meeting up with Cheval. Or maybe they want to avoid him.”

“A competitor?” Lando asked.

Jamie shrugged. “Something we need to consider. Beckworth, did you happen to bring those spyglasses AJ always used?”

“I did.”

“Lando, let’s take note of the ships that leave port tonight and with the next tide. We’ll stay in port until mid-day tomorrow.”

“We’re going to check out the cove?” Beckworth asked.

“Our route takes us that way. Seems a waste not to.”

B eckworth packed a canvas bag while Stella paced the room. It didn’t hold much—binoculars, a second pistol, and gunpowder cartridges. He carried his Queen Ann’s pistol in his jacket and his dagger on his hip.

Stella had dressed in pants and a shirt when she woke that morning since she’d stay onboard until the next port.

“You know you can’t go.” He glanced at her as she made a turn.

“I know.”

“Then why the pacing?”

“Can’t I be worried for you?”

He sighed as he closed the bag and set it next to the door. When she made another pass, he grabbed her. His kiss was swift before he stepped back to give her a long perusal. “How’s your stomach?”

She considered the question. “To be honest, all I’ve thought about is this new mission. I haven’t had time to worry about being seasick. The trip here was calm enough, and I’ve only been using the herbs. After the first day, I decided to keep the seasickness medicine for stormy seas.”

“Good thinking. What are your plans while we’re gone?”

She hugged him. “I’ll help Cook with breakfast and then clean up. It will keep me busy.” She held on tight, and he rubbed her back. “I should have brought my own binoculars so I could watch you.”

“We’ll be out of sight once we get past the cliff.”

The Daphne had remained in port until the middle of the previous day as Jamie had ordered. The teams returned to the pubs and inns that morning, but there was no sign of the men from the previous night nor word of MacDuff.

Two ships had left a couple of hours before dawn, both of them known to Lando and Fitz.

Ships the Daphne stayed clear of when possible.

Jamie had sailed the coast of England dozens of times as captain and many times more as second mate.

Most captains knew Jamie, and he knew them, so he’d learned quickly who to avoid.

He didn’t want his name or face known too widely, especially when he was spying for Hensley.

So, when Lando and Fitz reported on which ships had left, it wasn’t surprising they were known to be well-known smugglers.

Chances were good the mission had confirmed its first solid lead.

The Daphne had reached the cove close to midnight and sailed past, running dark.

The lookout in the crow’s nest had seen a light he assumed to be from a ship.

Jamie concurred it was worth checking out.

He ordered the ship to make a wide turn in order to anchor just south of the cove. Then they waited.

“We won’t be long. It’s a simple fact-finding trip.” He picked up his bag and gave her a last heated kiss before leaving the cabin.

She trailed behind him to the railing where Jamie, Lando, and Fitz waited.

“I don’t want the Daphne to be seen if it can be helped. Get the names of the ships and whether anyone is going on shore. Simple surveillance.”

“Understood.” Fitz gave a nod to Lando, who slipped over the railing onto the rope ladder before dropping into the jolly boat.

Beckworth went next, with Fitz giving a final nod to Jamie before following in the predawn light. Beckworth glanced up to find Stella peering down at him. She dropped something and it floated in the air. He had to reach out over the water to grab it.

A swan.

He tucked it in his pocket and gave her a wave as Lando and Fitz picked up oars and moved them away from the ship.

Beckworth found a seat and helped with rowing.

The tide helped carry them to a thin strip of beach where they pulled the boat ashore.

From there, Lando and Fitz grabbed ropes, and after a brief discussion, they decided on the best spot to start their climb.

The hardest part was the first fifty feet, which proved to be a moderate climb.

From there, after dropping the rope, they jogged up the gently sloping landscape.

When they reached the top, they fell to the ground, breathing hard as they peered over the ridge.

Two ships were in the cove, and Fitz nodded to Lando, who took the lead as they worked their way closer.

After a hundred yards, Lando dropped to his belly.

“Can’t we get closer?” Beckworth asked.

“There’s someone in the crow’s nest,” Lando answered. “Give me those glasses.”

Beckworth had them handy and passed them over.

Fitz had his spyglass out and nodded. “He’s keeping his eyes on the bay and the shore, but seems more interested in that jolly boat approaching on the starboard side.”

Beckworth squinted. There was indeed movement in the crow’s nest. The boat had been hidden by the other ship until just before coming alongside. Lines were already thrown over the side of the ship.

“They’re bringing cargo onboard.” Lando adjusted the glasses. “There must be a cave where they’ve been storing their goods.”

“Can you tell what the cargo might be?” Beckworth asked.

“Based on the way they’re rigging the lines, it’s not kegs. I’d say long crates.”

A couple of minutes later, the lines were pulled taut, and with arm gestures from the sailors on the jolly boat, the cargo began to lift. From Beckworth’s vantage point, it was easy to see they were indeed long crates. “The perfect size for flintlocks.”

“Could be anything, but I agree.” Lando continued to watch. “I don’t see any markings on them.”

“We need to go.” Fitz put his spyglass away. “Now.”

“What’s wrong?” Beckworth asked, grabbing the glasses Lando passed back to him as they slowly backed away from the ridge.

“The other ship is preparing to raise sails.”

No one needed any more encouragement. Once they were far enough away not to be seen, they raced back to where they’d left the ropes, which they anchored and tossed over the cliff. They moved quickly as they began their descent.

Beckworth focused on the sound of oars slicing through the water as he considered what they’d seen, curious as to what was in the crates.

Then he thought about Stella and what she might be up to other than worrying about him.

Then he thought about their evening together, and that occupied some time.

He wanted to think of anything other than what would happen if they didn’t make it to the Daphne before either ship left the cove.