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She nodded to Rawkins and swallowed hard. “What was the name of the ship, Mr. Rawkins?”
The man took the purse from the table and tucked it into his jacket, throwing her an estimating look. The hair on the back of Nathaniel’s neck stood. He straightened his back, gently releasing Calliope’s hand, his other palm going to the dagger hidden in his right boot.
Maybe the thug had sensed her desperation. Rawkins reclined slightly, a smug expression painting his features. “Seems me memory’s a wee bit foggy. Per’aps ye can jog it, Your Grace.”
A fiery rage blazed within Nathaniel. Swiftly drawing his dagger, he slammed it into the table’s wooden surface, just inches from Rawkins’s hand. “I’ll jog that memory for you,” he snapped.
“Nathaniel, calm down,” said Calliope with a soft chuckle. She dropped a second money purse full of coin onto the table. “How’s this, Mr. Rawkins, does it scratch the itch?”
Rawkins glared at Nathaniel while his hands slowly moved to the purse to grasp it grudgingly. “Your wife is smarter than ye,” he said without taking his eyes off him, and put the purse into his coat.
“Don’t I know it,” said Nathaniel.
Rawkins looked at Calliope. “It were Concord.”
He didn’t think Calliope’s face could get any paler, but it did. She looked positively ashen. “Concord.” Her wide eyes met Nathaniel’s.
Nathaniel’s own body chilled. “Captain Dean. Bound for America.”
“This is the worst outcome,” Calliope whispered. “The French war is coming to an end, but the American is only beginning! And he’s an ocean away, Nathaniel!”
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Holding Calliope’s elbow, Nathaniel walked her towards the carriage that was waiting on the next street.
Calliope was quiet. So was he. She’d finally found out where her brother was, which meant he could make inquiries at the Admiralty about Concord. They could discuss what next steps to take to recover him. They would definitely need to tell Preston and Richard.
Even though fury with her seethed in the pit of his stomach, he hesitated to reprimand her for leaving the safety of Kelford and putting herself in danger against his instructions. Truth was, she had managed to get that information from Rawkins with her gentle approach…and plenty of money.
Not force.
Had he been alone with Rawkins, would he have been able to get this information?
He didn’t know. He admired her bravery, her courage, her skill. This woman was so fierce she didn’t need him. Didn’t need anyone.
And yet, he needed her in his life like he needed his next breath.
A sleuth…
To all devils, she was right. She would be good at it.
And yet…she may be expecting their baby. She had purposefully put herself and possibly their unborn child in danger. She should have known better.
“How could you do this, Calliope?” he asked.
“No! How could you, Nathaniel?” she cried out. “Abandon me like that in some village I’ve never been before? You put me in exile!”
There was no one on the dark streets around them, despite Portside bustling with patrons. And Nathaniel caught a flicker of movement in the deeper shadows cast by the lantern above the door to a warehouse. Cold unease crawled up his spine.
She was still in danger. He needed to get her out.
“Get into the carriage, now,” he commanded.
“Do not dare bark at me!” she exclaimed.
“Get in,” he said.
Her eyes still wide in shock, she climbed in, her face dark in the dim light of the little lantern over her head. Nathaniel looked over his shoulder, the hair at the back of his neck standing as he had an odd sensation someone was watching him. But at least she was now in the carriage.
