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Chapter Twenty-Nine
Henry peered down the sheer cliff toward the ocean below.
“He says there’s a narrow path down to the beach just off that way,” Mr. Harding said, pointing off to their left.
“He picked a good spot for the exchange,” Sir Mulgrave muttered.
“It’ll be blasted hard for any of us to sneak up on him,” Uncle Jeffrey added, “or even hide close enough to intervene if the need arises.”
“I think that’s the point,” Mr. Wilson said with a growl.
Henry, with the heavy portmanteau in one hand, kept his gaze down at the beach. “I’ll go down alone. You four stay up here.”
“I said it was hard,” Uncle Jeffrey said. “I didn’t say it was impossible.”
Henry shook his head, turning and facing the other men. “I’ll not risk him spotting you and taking off before we get Dinah back.”
“I’ll be down on that beach with you,” Sir Mulgrave said, his words hard, “even if I have to wade into the ocean and hide among the seaweed.”
Dinah’s father had been calm ever since hearing his daughter had been taken. Calm, but it was the type of calm that scared even the most stalwart of hearts. It was the kind of calm that barely concealed the maelstrom taking place inside. Sir Mulgrave hadn’t verbally blamed Henry for all that had happened, not even after hearing the full story. But Henry wouldn’t be surprised if, after they had Dinah back once more, the man demanded she leave Henry for good.
“Come with me,” Uncle Jeffrey said. “With a little luck, we’ll find just the right spots.”
Henry started forward again, but Mr. Harding stopped him with a hand on his arm. He waited until the other three men were out of earshot before speaking.
“I can think of only one reason Spade wants to meet you here.”
“He’s planning to escape by boat.”
Mr. Harding nodded. “He’ll know we didn’t have time to find a boat ourselves. It’ll be nearly impossible to chase after him.”
Henry had come to the same conclusion.
“He’s going to force you to choose—it’ll either be get him or save Dinah.”
“I know.”
“You have to decide ahead of time which is your top priority, otherwise you’ll lose both.”
Henry turned and faced Mr. Harding with a dark scowl. “Nothing is more important to me than Dinah.”
Mr. Harding didn’t wither under the intense glare; it was that trait that had first made Henry respect the man enough to be willing to work with him. “Even if it means giving up your chance at getting justice for your friend? Giving it up for good? Because I can guarantee you, once Spade sails away, there won’t be another opportunity to catch him.”
Henry was silent for a minute—his whole life these past couple of years had been focused on getting Spade. On getting his friend’s killer. Every plan he’d made, every goal he’d set, it all was aimed at getting justice for his friend.
But none of it would matter if he lost Dinah in the process. “Steven would understand,” Henry said, his voice soft.
Mr. Harding almost smiled. “Then we shall leave it up to the heavens to see that Spade gets justice.”
Henry nodded. “We’ll leave it up to the heavens.”
Mr. Harding clapped a hand on Henry’s back. “Let’s go get your wife back.”
* * *
Henry walked slowly down the beach, the sun setting over the water. Between the tall cliffs on his left and the ocean on his right, there was hardly a boulder or bush large enough to conceal a grown man, and yet Uncle Jeffrey had managed to find posts near enough to Henry for himself, Mr. Wilson, Mr. Harding, and Sir Mulgrave. Henry could only hope they were close enough to come to his aid should the need arise.
Henry stopped and pulled out the letter containing instructions on where to meet. According to it, Henry was in the right spot. A bit early, but in the right place. He folded up the letter and pocketed it, his other hand growing more and more sweaty around the handle of the large portmanteau which was weighed down with more pounds than he cared to count.
