In a flash, the big man had Pip hauled up by his jacket flaps. “What’s this?”
Perry’s heart did flips. These were not Scruggs’s men. And probably not the Scarborough men, whoever they might be. These men weren’t in league with Scruggs.
“What else did Scruggs say?”
“Nothin’ ter me. Put me down.”
He dropped Pip and the boy staggered back, turning to run. The big man clamped a hand on him.
“I got to get back.”
“You’re staying with us.” He yanked Pip back to where Perry stood.
The smelly hand came off her mouth and all but yanked her arm out of the socket. She sucked in a sharp breath. “No need for roughness. Let me go on my way.”
“And where would that be?” The big man handed Pip over. “Tie their hands together.”
“I’m for Scarborough,” she said.
“Another one of Scruggs’s messengers.”
“No.”
He leaned closer. “With the Dutchman then.”
“I dunna know who the Dutchman is.”
“Traveling on that fine horse? Who are you?”
“I work at that cottage. That there one about to slide off the cliff.”
“With the ghost?” Pip asked.
“Aye.” She took quick shallow breaths, inducing her heart to race faster. She dropped her voice to a hoarse whisper. “Seen her last night.”
A hand cracked across her face and she held back a scream. Pain burned through her cheek, along her neck and into her shoulder.
She gritted her teeth. He would pay for that, first chance she got.
“Bugger your ghosts. What are you doin’ here?” he growled. It would be his palm painted on her jaw, and her extra knife in his belly.
“Master ran out of coffee.”
The hand came up again and she ducked, heart pounding. It wasn’t so hard to pretend to be servile.
“Wanted me back with it by the morrow.”
“He sent a servant, at night, to bring back coffee for his breakfast? And you think you’ll find an open shop tonight?”
“Or the mornin’. Sleeps half the day, he does. ’E’s a painter. Be back in time. ’An if’n I’m gone at night, I don’t have to see…” She sucked in a deep breath, ducked, and made herself tremble. “Her. Yer know what I’m sayin’, boy,” she whispered.
“I heard tell in the village that Mr. Goodfellow up at the cottage is a queer one,” Pip said.
Mr. Goodfellow. Fox was using an alias.
“And I heard tell he’s got no servants,” the big man said. “So I know you’re lying.”
“I’m not lyin’. Came later we did. Me and the cook.”
