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“It’s not the ship. I see someone I know.”
She tensed. This was the last thing they needed. “Should we duck into a tavern?”
“Too late.”
“Well, if it isn’t Nimble Hands Kelly.”
Bridget turned to see a man about Callahan’s height with broad shoulders and a thick mustache knifing through the crowds and straight for them.
“Lucas,” Callahan said, his voice strained. “Didn’t think I’d see you here.”
“I bet you didn’t. Fortune favors me today. What do you say to a quick game of piquet?”
Callahan shook his head and gestured to Bridget. Lucas looked at her curiously. “Another time. I have a ship to catch.”
“Oh, I see. I see.” He smiled and Bridget almost relaxed. “No time for a game, eh? No problem.” He pulled a short knife from his coat. “Just give me the ten pounds you stole from me, and I’ll wave goodbye from the docks.”
