Page 39 of The Swan Syndicate #1

Stella fussed with the rose-colored dress.

She loved the lavender one but didn’t want to have to deal with the lower neckline.

And while her sewing skills would pass muster on letting out the waist, the seas had been rough on their travel north.

She’d taken her motion sickness pill last night and that morning, but she didn’t want to chance getting sick or continually stabbing herself with a needle during the unpredictable sea.

At breakfast, Jamie said the seas should calm by afternoon, and he was almost right.

She’d kept busy in the galley most of the day, which kept her mind off the rocking motion of the ship, though there was one moment the ship took an unexpected dip that sent her and several cooking pots rolling across the floor.

If only she’d hit her head. She could use some unconscious time.

Beckworth had slept in with her after a long night of lovemaking but had still risen too early for her liking. He’d brought her a pot of coffee, gave her a toe-tingling kiss, and whispered, “Sleep in. We’ll be going over plans once the storm calms.”

Then he was gone.

Once the seas had calmed to where she could walk across the galley without stumbling about, she’d made her way topside to stroll the deck and breathe in the fresh salt air.

She found Fitz working the lines on the starboard rigging and stopped to lean against the railing.

Though the sea still churned, the rain had stopped and the clouds were thinning, otherwise she would’ve never gotten close to the railing.

There had been a raging storm during the middle of the night the first time she’d been forced to cross the Channel with Beckworth to escape Gemini.

They didn’t have the coin for a cabin and had shared a tarp-covered spot on deck along with several other travelers.

She chuckled. They’d spent more time wet than dry, and during the storm, one of the makeshift tents had collapsed.

When Beckworth went to help, she’d heard a woman cry.

Worried about Beckworth and acting like a naive idiot, she’d tried to help.

She’d only managed several steps from the relative safety of their tent when a rogue wave hit the ship.

She fell, sliding toward the railing that was barely waist high as the ship heaved to port.

She’d held onto the deck by her fingernails until the ship righted itself.

It was an experience she would never forget.

“I’m surprised to see you on deck.”

She glanced over, pulled from her musings, to find Fitz leaning against the railing watching her.

“I thought some fresh air would do me good, and it seemed safe enough to come on deck. I didn’t mean to disturb your work.”

He nodded. “There’s nothing better than the sea air to clean the head and settle the belly. And you’re not bothering me. Some days it feels like I could work the rigging with me eyes closed.”

“I believe that. How long have you been sailing?”

He gave it some consideration. “Since I was a wee lad of ten. Jamie and I grew up in the same village, not far from where Finn and Maire lived. The two of us sneaked onto the Daphne the first time Finn took her for a sail. It was a small cargo run to Dublin. He caught us not an hour from shore and threatened to throw us overboard if we didn’t work for passage.

I don’t think either of us slept a wink during the entire round trip.

We even helped move the cargo, though neither of us could carry much of a load. ”

He chuckled. “One trip was all it took for the both of us. We were lucky it was Finn’s ship. Not all captains are as kind as him. When it was time for the next sail, he sent us a message asking if we wanted to join. Neither of us has looked back since.”

“Didn’t you have family in Ireland?”

He nodded. “Still do. Jamie finds a way to get us back once or twice a year to see them. We both have many brothers and sisters, so our mams don’t miss us too much—one less mouth to feed. But we send them money and letters.”

He leaned close. “I don’t think they like us working for the English, but they don’t seem bothered taking the money.”

She wasn’t sure how to respond, but when she noted the spark of humor in his gaze, she shook her head.

“Family. I left mine a long time ago.” She looked out to sea, wondering what her mother would make of her life.

She’d most likely shake her head, wondering what she’d done to make her child so rebellious. Nothing at all like her brothers.

“Are you ready for this evening?”

She appreciated the change of topic. “As ready as I can be. Weren’t you supposed to be in meetings?”

“Aye. I sat in for the first of it, but with Jamie and Lando in the meeting, my time is better spent up here.” He glanced up, then stepped aside to loosen a line before tightening and retying it. “Why aren’t you at the meeting?”

“I’m nervous enough. I think talking about it would only make me more anxious.”

He turned to her, and this time his tone was serious.

“There’s only one thing to keep in mind with these blokes.

As kind and nice as they might seem, underneath it all, a smuggler thinks about money first and his men second.

Anything or—” he pointed a finger at her, “—anyone else isn’t worth their time.

Even a pretty lady. You’re a smart woman, just like AJ.

Keep your dagger close, and don’t be afraid to use it.

I don’t mean to scare you, but MacDuff is a ruthless man.

Don’t let his charm make you forget that. ”

She sobered instantly. And while his words should have scared her, they snapped her out of whatever fugue state she’d been living in while onboard the ship. She nodded. “That helped more than you know.”

He studied her for a moment, then his good-natured grin appeared. “That’s a good lass.” He rubbed his stomach. “You wouldn’t by any chance know if lunch is almost ready?”

She laughed. “Let me go see what Cook is up to. Come down when you’re ready. I’ll find something you can eat.”

She patted his arm before striding down the deck, taking a last look at the clearing sky before descending the stairs.

After helping Cook with lunch and cleaning the galley, she fell asleep.

When she woke, she’d expected Beckworth to be back.

Then she found a swan lying on the pillow next to her.

He had been there and had let her sleep.

Did he do that on purpose? He wasn’t happy with this latest change in the mission.

Did he blame her? He would never admit it.

And on the surface, he would believe it.

But down deep—buried in his subconscious—was he sorry he’d fallen in love with such a bold woman?

The jury was still out on whether she was smart or stupid, sane or just plain crazy.

It was too late to do anything about it now. They were in too deep, and while she could tell Jamie she couldn’t go through with it, she wouldn’t disappoint Hensley or the rest of the men who would have to come up with another plan.

The cold truth was that she was the only one who could get close enough to MacDuff within the time period allotted. With any luck, she and Beckworth would come out of it unscathed. Then she’d play the good little woman the entire hunting party weekend.

She tugged on the day dress, though, in her opinion, it was too nice for daytime.

Beckworth said they were from France. Even now, with the war, Paris was the height of fashion.

She couldn’t reach the ties and struggled with pulling her hair back while trying to keep the sleeves from slipping down her arms. Frustrated with the entire situation, she stabbed the hairpins in her hair, but try as she might she would never tame her hair like Libby could.

She was in the middle of yanking the pins out of her hair, which made her curls turn into knots when the door opened with barely a knock.

Beckworth strode in, a frown on his face and a storm in his gaze until he saw her and stopped. He tried. She could tell. But the laugh slipped from him until she felt like throwing something at him.

“Stop laughing and help me.” She flapped her arms. “I can’t do anything with the dress untied.”

He held a hand to his side, his laughter still bubbling out. When he was able to catch a breath, he worked hard to cover his grin. “Why didn’t you wait for me?” He strode over and turned her around so he could get to the ties.

“I haven’t seen you all day. And you didn’t even wake me when you came back. How long were you here before leaving again?”

“Only long enough to see you sleeping. Somehow, we’ve simply passed each other without knowing it.”

She grunted. Unlikely, but she wouldn’t push. She picked up the brush and attacked her hair. After two tangled pulls, Beckworth stayed her hand, then pried the brush from her fingers.

“Let me. The last thing MacDuff will be interested in is a bald woman. Nice cheekbones or not.”

She let his complement pass, not willing to engage. He was upset, and the last thing they needed was a fight. She had to keep her head in the game, and second-guessing herself worrying about his mood wasn’t helping.

When he was done with her hair, she took a quick look in the mirror and nodded. “Thank you. That’s better.”

She folded the other dress and put it away. Silence between them had never been a problem before, but she felt the tension increase and released a thankful sigh when the knock came.

She let Beckworth answer it.

It was Lando.

“It’s time. MacDuff’s ship is already here.”

Without another word, she picked up her new cloak, wrapped it around her, and followed Lando to the upper deck. Beckworth trailed behind. He’d be out there somewhere—watching. Protecting. But he stopped at the gangplank with Fitz, Michelson, and Lane as Lando led her to the dock and toward an inn.

“Where’s the crate?”