Page 21 of A Potion for Passion

Chapter Eleven

Having left East Town, Lawrence had parked his wagon out of sight of the road and ridden Belle to the church at Fortuneswell. Having concealed her, too, he waited until full dark before venturing toward the spreading yew tree in the graveyard. There he lurked, wishing he dared strike a light and consult his fob watch. The church clock had already struck midnight, but that felt like a hundred years ago. He’d no idea what the time was now, and his limbs were getting stiff.

A pipe of tobacco would go down really well, something to ease the tension fizzing in his gut. But it would also give away his position, and if the wrong person were to stumble across him in the dark, it could end badly.

“Campaign?”

Judas, but Nathaniel Pryce could move quietly when he wanted to! Lawrence waited for his heart to go back to its accustomed place before whispering, “Nat?”

“Aye, the same. Have you the money?”

“Here.” Lawrence jingled his purse softly. “Have you the goods?”

“Aye. And they’ll cost ye less than afore.”

In Lawrence’s experience, if something sounded too good to be true, it probably was. “How much less?”

“It’ll be three guineas, all told.”

A great deal lower than their last transaction. “Why? Is the quantity not the same?”

“Nay, ’tis the same. But these silks were flotsam. Washed up on shore from the wreck of an East Indiaman. The price is lower, in case some’s spoiled. That’s fair and honest, if you ask me.”

“I don’t know about that,” Lawrence growled, fingering the pistol beneath his jacket. “My customers expect only the best from me.” He had to hope the silks were unlabeled, or their original owners might claim them back.

Assuming said owners had survived the wreck.

“Take or leave it,” said Nat shortly.

“Let me see the goods first.” Could he trust this man, fisherman by day, scavenger by night? Almost certainly not. Although, up until now, their transactions had been profitable.

“You know I can’t do that. We’d need a light and that’s too risky. Are you buying it or not? I can’t bide here long.”

Lawrence scowled. This didn’t smell right. “I don’t like this. Why should I pay for damaged goods when I’m not permitted to see them?”

“It makes no odds to me. But I won’t take it too kindly if you back out of our agreement. Nor will my friends.”

“Are you threatening me?” The urge to wave his pistol at the shadowy figure standing just beyond the tree was strong, but they both knew the sound of a gunshot would raise the neighbourhood.

He had his knives, of course, but it might count against him in the afterlife if he cut a man’s throat on sacred ground. The Lord didn’t look too kindly on such things.

He imagined.

“Now, listen,” said the wrecker. “If you’ve got cold feet, it’s your funeral. I don’t want to hang about arguing. My friends have much bigger fish to fry than the likes of you, and don’t take kindly to troublemakers. Just pay the money, and I’ll drop the goods.”

Lawrence thought quickly. If he fell out with the wreckers, he’d lose his best source of income. And possibly his life. There were some hard men among them who didn’t tolerate dissent.

“Tell you what we’ll do,” he said. “I’ll give you half the money now, and you can leave the goods for me to take back and look at tomorrow, in daylight. You can come by Dorchester Fair next week, where I’m taking the show. Stand in the crowd where I can see you, and if I’m happy with the goods I’ll send Charley to you with the rest of the money. No one will think anything of it. We’ll pretend you’re buying medicine, and the dog’s bringing you change. What do you say?”

His eyes had had plenty of time to accustom themselves to the darkness by now, and he could see Nat quite clearly. The man held no weapon, as far as he could tell.

“I can’t do that,” was the reply. “More than my life’s worth. I didn’t come here to bargain.”

Lawrence slid a knife out of his boot and weighed it in his hand. “And I didn’t come here to be sold damaged goods,” he said, not troubling to keep the menace from his voice.

“Tough,” spat the other. “I’m just going to walk away and find another buyer. No skin off my nose. Can’t say the same for you. My friends won’t be too happy with your attitude. Might come looking for you, to teach you a lesson.”

Lawrence didn’t like being threatened. “You know I used to be with a traveling show?” he said, suddenly flipping open his covered lantern and holding it above his head.