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Charlie huddled against the stone, curled into a ball, her head dropped into her arms. She saw them climbing above her. She hadn’t even realized there was a cave there but she knew one thing, this area stayed dry. Which she should have thought of when she’d considered hiding spots.
If they wanted dry loot, this was the spot to be.
Were they pirates? Looters? Thieves? She told herself to, for once in her life, keep her head down and for goodness sake, stay quiet. Covering her ears, she tried not to hear them either, but their conversation filtered through her hands to her ears.
“This shipment is a beauty. Lots of Frenchie wine.”
“Think Captain would notice if we have one?” another replied.
“Ye ken he would,” a third answered. “But I might take a slug anyway fer some o’ that wine. That Moorish fellow has some fine goods.”
“That we did a fine job of stealing.” They all cackled.
Charlie tried to keep quiet, but a little gasp escaped her lips.
They didn’t seem to hear, and she burrowed her face deeper into her skirts.
These men were stealing from Mr. Moorish and storing the goods on his own property. If she made it out of this, she’d see the goods returned and these men caught.
But first she just needed to make it out of here. The moon disappeared behind a cloud, casting complete darkness about her. She could see one of their lanterns swinging as they moved away.
Slowly, she unfurled her body, rising into a crouch. Should she make a break for it or wait them out?
“Charlie,” a deep voice whispered in her ear, even as a hand covered her mouth.
Raithe. She looked back, snaking an arm about his neck. Right now, she didn’t care if they were at odds, she’d never been happier to see anyone in her entire life. He’d come for her. “Oh, Raithe. I wasn’t looking for trouble. Honestly.”
“I know. But it does seem to find you. You’ll keep me on my toes, that’s for certain.” The casual mention of him keeping her safe in the future filled her with that sort of warm, gushy feeling. She tightened her hold around his neck. “Come on, we’re getting out of here.” Then he pulled her up, wrapping his arm about her waist, and skirting along the rocks to the entrance.
Raithe stopped, looking both ways.
Charlie peeked out and noted their lanterns were bobbing toward the ocean. Raithe tugged her hand and they started for the path.
Charlie ran next to Raithe as fast as her legs, wrapped in skirts, would allow but twice she nearly fell. After the second time, Raithe scooped her into his arms.
“Hey,” a voice called from below. “Who goes there?”
“Catch them,” another yelled out.
“Raithe,” Charlie curled her fingers into his neck. “Put me down. You’ll be faster if I run too.”
He didn’t say a word just grunted as he picked up speed up the rocky path. That’s when the crack of a pistol filled the air. Charlie shrank into Raithe as another gun fired and then a third.
On the last shot the bullet seemed to
whizz just past her head and she heard Raithe grunt again.
They were nearly at the top of the path now and the moment they crested the bluff, Raithe yelled out a loud, booming, “Help!”
As if in answer, the front door burst open as men poured from the house.
Dashlane, Craven, Crestwood, Rathmore, Mr. Moorish, and several servants raced toward them all carrying pistols.
“Hostiles on the beach,” Raithe yelled as the men moved closer. “They’re storing stolen goods.”
Mr. Moorish stopped. “Stolen goods, you say?”
“Your wine,” Charlie added. “I heard them talking.”
