AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I’m sure I’ll manage.”
He gave her an assessing look. “No doubt. I’ll need you to pay particular attention to those coming and going. If you recognize anyone, I want to know immediately.”
“I understand. I’ll point out the traitor and you will take him or her into custody.”
“Either here or back in London, yes. Palmerston will want to question him and send officers to Wapping to round up the others in the group. I’ll have to assist with identifying them here or if they’re caught returning to Town.”
“And then what?” she asked.
He opened his mouth to answer, then seemed to understand she wasn’t asking what would happen to the men. She was asking what would happen to them. “I don’t know,” he said. “I suppose I return to Baron and take another assignment or continue training.”
“And I will continue serving the queen.”
He nodded. “I suppose you must.”
“Then this is good-bye,” she said, surprised at how the pain of those words cut through all the other pain. “After today, I mean. We go our separate ways.”
Will didn’t answer, merely looked out the hackney window.
But that was answer enough.
Chapter Thirteen
Will didn’t know Wapping well, and the maze of warehouses and dockyards took some time to navigate. By the time he located the tea warehouse where Innishfree was to meet, he didn’t have much time to look for a good vantage point to observe. The drizzle he’d hoped to leave behind in London had followed them, and Emily looked wet and miserable as she dragged behind him. She still favored her injured leg, but if it pained her, she gave no other indication. She was quiet and stoic, offering no complaint though she must be as tired and hungry as he.
“I think this is the best we can do,” he said, gesturing to a dirty cart with a broken wheel across from the warehouse. It listed to one side but seemed sturdy otherwise. He had Emily crouch behind it while he gathered a length of torn canvas from the bed and stretched it over the top. When he was satisfied the canvas would shield them from sight, he crouched beside Emily. “I’ll make sure no one is about, then we climb under the canvas and wait.”
She looked at the cart and must have been considering how dirty the bed, not to mention the canvas that would be covering her, was but she allowed him to help her into the cart. Will told her to lay down, no point in her straining her neck to peer out until there was something to see. In the meantime, he tented the canvas to keep an eye on the warehouse. Then he settled in to watch.
“At least we’re dry under here,” she murmured after he’d been watching for about a quarter hour.
“I’ve been in worse situations,” he said.
“Tell me.”
He glanced over his shoulder, seeing only her vague form behind him. She lay on her side, her head on her arm, watching him. He couldn’t give her details of any of his missions, but he could tell her a little. “Once I was attempting to gain entrance to a house. The owner was supposed to be away, but I forgot to account for the servants. Instead of breaking in when they were asleep, I went too early and was almost caught in the yard. I ducked into the privy so they wouldn’t see me.”
“Oh, no,” she said.
“Exactly. I had to hide in there for several hours, in mortal fear the entire time that someone would come out to use it and I would either be discovered or have to jump into the privy pit to avoid discovery.”
“Stop,” she said, her voice choked either with disgust or amusement. “I shall be sick.”
“Fortunately, it was a cold night and the servants either had their own privy or used chamber pots. When I was certain they wouldn’t see me, I ran to hide in the chicken coop, which I assure you was little better.”
“I do hope you received some sort of medal for your valor.”
“No. It turns out the information we’d received was wrong, and my search uncovered nothing. We had the wrong man, so I’d gone through the ordeal for nothing.”
She made a soft sound of annoyance. “It seems I’m not the first person you mistook for a criminal.”
“Emily—”
“Lady Averley.”
“I can only work with the information I have. My suspicion of you was based on what I’d been told. I had orders to investigate you. It wasn’t personal.”
“It certainly felt personal last night.”
