“Perhaps they decided to take the discussion to the pub?”
“I thought of that, but Kevin has to pass our front walkway to get to the street the pub’s on. Knowin’ I thought he was comin’ home for dinner, I’m positive he’d have stopped in to let me know the plans changed.”
Kathleen’s words disturbed her. “I can see now why you would be worried, but there has to be a good explanation.”
“I only pray you’re right, m’lady.”
She sighed. “It would be wise for us not to get carried away with believing the worst.” Her gaze landed on the book Shamus O’Neill gave her, lying on the table beside her chair. Reaching for the volume of sonnets, she opened it to the first page.
“While we wait I will read aloud to calm us.”
Kathleen nodded in agreement and sat back in her chair.
She scanned the first page, her gaze resting on the inscription. Fear gripped her heart. “Lord, help them,” she muttered, closing the book and glancing over at Kathleen.
The other woman’s terror-filled eyes matched the panic spiraling down her spine.
“What’s wrong, m’lady?”
She put the book aside and cleared her throat. “I know you mentioned you have hunted, but how skilled would you say you are with a gun?”
Kathleen’s eyes widened. “I’ve gotten me share of game, why do you ask?”
Raven stood, her stomach knotting. “Come with me to my husband’s study.”
Kathleen followed. “Tell me, please, m’lady, what’s wrong?”
She did not answer Kathleen, but went to the large desk by the window and opened the drawer. She took two large pistols from the drawer and loaded them with trembling hands.
“Saints preserve us, m’lady,” Kathleen moaned. “What’s happenin’?”
“I believe now our husbands may be in grave danger.” She handed a gun to Kathleen. “And we need to help them.”
Kathleen gripped the gun with an experienced hand. “Shouldn’t we go for the men tenants to help us?”
She shook her head. “There is not enough time to get word to all of them. By the time they all gather, set about a plan—”
“I agree,” Kathleen interrupted. “But how can we, just two women, be o’ any help?”
“I am sure we can conjure up as good a plan as any man.” She made her way to the kitchen, thankful all the help were not around, and lit a lantern. Together, she and Kathleen ran to the stables. They were in luck. Dooley was gone for the day. And the fewer questions she had to answer, the better. She reached for the men’s clothing hanging on a peg by the door.
“Here,” she said, handing Kathleen a shirt and breeches. “Put these on.” She began to undress from her own clothes. “It is safer for us to appear as two boys, then to go off riding in the night as two unescorted women.”
“What about our hair?”
She glanced around the stable and spotted a cap and a wide brimmed hat hanging on another peg by a horse’s stall. Taking them from the hook, she tossed Kathleen the cap.
“Take down your hair and braid it, then stuff it up into the cap and pull it down around your ears,” she instructed, while doing the same. In no time, they looked like a pair of farm lads. She showed Kathleen how to secure the pistol in the drawstring of the breeches, and then looped a rope around Dayden’s neck and led her from the stall. In one fluid motion she mounted the horse, sitting tall upon her back.
Kathleen gasped. “Aren’t you goin’ to saddle her?”
“There is not enough time,” she said, extending a hand to Kathleen.
“But we will just fall off.”
She sighed. “I have been riding this way for as long as I can remember.”
Kathleen’s lips thinned. “Then ’tis I who will fall off.”
“Come, Kathleen.” She extended her hand lower. “Just dig your knees into the horse’s side and hang on to me.”
Kathleen mounted and they raced out of the stable.
The chill of the night stung her face, her heart pounded, but she rode as swift as she dared with a novice on board. Poor Kathleen, her teeth chattered and arms shook as she hung on for dear life. Burying her face against Raven’s back, the other woman recited the Lord’s Prayer. She silently prayed along.
When they arrived at the warehouse it was dark, desolate, just as Kathleen described. She spotted the carriage and brought Dayden to a halt beside it.
“Patrick would never leave the carriage unattended.”
“Then they’re all still inside the warehouse?” Kathleen said, scrambling off the horse.
“But where?” Raven dismounted and tied Dayden to the carriage. “I have only been here one time and not for very long.”
“I take Kevin his lunch on me way to the schoolhouse. I know the lay out well,” Kathleen offered. “With the doors locked, we can’t enter through them, but I know o’ another way.” She took Raven by the hand and led her to the east side of the warehouse.
“Through there,” she said, pointing to a large metal cylinder.”
Raven frowned. “What is that?”
“’Tis a chute used for discardin’ old crates and packin’. The trash is thrown down the tube and falls into the vat below, then burned.” She neared the large silo. “If we could get on the barrel’s rim and climb up the chute, we can get into the warehouse. We’d come out on the second floor, in the last room of the buildin’. That’s where the items to be trashed and burned are stored.”
In her youth Raven had climbed many trees. Looking the situation over carefully, she did not doubt for a minute she could do as Kathleen suggested. But could Kathleen?
It was as though the other woman read her mind. “I used to climb trees when I was just a wee lass, so I can do this. How about you?”
“Same here,” she admitted. “You are looking at the village’s champion tree climber.”
Kathleen chuckled. “I didn’t do too bad meself, except I tore me stockin’s and stained me dress every time. And every time Papa thrashed me bottom with the switch.” She sighed. “I couldn’t sit for days.”
Raven grabbed hold of the edge of the barrel, coated with soot and grime, and hoisted herself up on the rim. Kathleen did the same. By the time they crept their way to where they could reach the metal tube, they were both covered in ash.
Kathleen was the first to inch her way up the chute, hands and feet braced against the sides to keep from falling down the tube and into the dirty barrel. Her pistol scraped the metal cylinder with each move.
“Kathleen,” she said, her voice echoing throughout the tube. She cringed and lowered her tone. “Can you reach your gun and move it onto your hip?”
“I fear I’ll hit the trigger, since I can’t even see me own hands in front of me face,” Kathleen whispered.
“Then can you feel for the drawstring around your waist and tighten it?”
“I’ll need both hands to do that, and without securin’ meself, I’ll slide. Then we’ll both end up at the bottom o’ that grimy vat.”
She blindly reached for Kathleen’s foot. Upon finding the right one she braced it with the palm of her hand. “Try to pull the drawstring now.”
The tunnel was alive with Kathleen’s erratic breathing, but within moments the other woman announced with a sigh of relief, “’Tis done.”
They made their way to the top of the chute and climbed out. A sliver of moonlight from a tiny window shed a bit of light into the room, revealing boxes and wood piled high against the walls.
Kathleen pointed to the right. “The way out is beyond those crates.”
Raven groped her way through the debris, hitting a knee and a chin, stifling the cries of pain. A creature scampered past her foot and she cringed. “I dare not ask what that could be.”
“’Tis probably a rat, m’lady,” Kathleen whispered. “They’re all over the place.”
They came to a door; beyond it voices could be heard. “Do you hear that, Kathleen?”
“A
ye, m’lady, ’tis comin’ from the middle storage room, which would explain why no light can be seen from the outside. That room has no windows.”
“How can we get there from here?”
“Through this door and to the left,” Kathleen instructed.
The voices grew louder as they snuck through the opening and crouched behind a pile of wood. From their position two men could be seen, their backs to them. One was tall and broad shouldered. The other was small and slight of build. Braiton and Kevin were tied to their chairs, arms behind their backs. The smaller man held a gun on Braiton, the larger man pointed his weapon at Kevin.
Kathleen gasped and reached for Raven’s hand. “Who are these men?”
“They must be the two scoundrels swindling my husband.” She took a deep breath and focused on the lighting of the room. Only one lantern was lit and it did not shed past where the men stood. It would be possible to sneak up from behind and still remain hidden in the shadows.
“Kathleen, make your way to the area behind the bigger man. The darkness is in your favor and you will not be seen. When you hear me hoot like an owl, shoot him in the foot, then hide behind the wood pile there.”
“What about you, m’lady?”
“I have a plan of my own, so do not be concerned for me. Just listen for the hoot, then shoot and hide.”
“Hoot, shoot, and hide,” Kathleen whispered, giving Raven’s hand a squeeze before she slipped away.
****
Mouth parched, shoulders throbbing, Braiton secretly worked the ropes binding his hands. Besides experiencing physical and mental stress, his heart was raw with emotion. He was unable to psychologically wrap his mind around the situation at hand and hurt deep with betrayal.
“Why are you doing this, Rory?”
“’Tis how it has to be, old friend. My father’s will states all his holdings with your company be governed by you. But in the event your company folds, the holdings are mine.”
“Correction, dear brother, the holdings would be divided equally, that was the deal.” Joleena moved closer, her topaz eyes filled with hate. “If you were only a wee bit smarter, Braiton, and married me instead of that little half-breed, all this could have been avoided.”
He smiled sardonically at the thought of Joleena O’Neill in Raven’s place. “You’re far from the woman she is.”
“And you’re in no position to anger me further.” Joleena brought the gun’s muzzle to rest against his chest. “I hold all the cards now. Since ’tis no longer possible to see you as my husband, I’m afraid I must see you dead.”
He gritted his teeth, trying again to free his hands from the ropes that bound him. “You’re mad, both of you. Do you really believe you’ll get away with murder this time?”
Rory chuckled. “Ah, I see you’ve been talking to mother.” He shrugged. “Except this time suspicion will be placed on the small built lad.” He smiled and glanced over at his sister.
He glared at Joleena, seething with a mixture of hate and disgust. “Then ’twas you dressed in men’s clothes, as you are now, who swindled Lord Wade.”
Joleena’s wicked laughter filled the storage room, rising to the high rafters. “Aye, ’twas me. A clever plan, don’t you think? After I sold Wade’s assistant the goods, I climbed aboard our vessel. That’s where I stayed while Rory visited you. Not a soul was aware I was even along.”
“I was able to get the receipts easily enough,” Rory confessed. He smiled at Kevin. “Your trusted foreman trusted me as well to be in your office.”
“So sorry, m’lord,” Kevin said.
“You had no way of knowing, Kevin,” he said, working further at the rope. He had to get himself free. He wouldn’t die at the hands of these degenerates.
“Oh, he wasn’t the only one of your men who helped,” Rory snickered. “’Twas your man, Brodie, who brought the wagon full of goods to the dock. I led him to believe they were my father’s purchases. After I offered him a few shillings for his help, he was off to the pub.”
“So you see, Braiton darling, ’twill be impossible for anyone to piece together what happened, let alone blame Rory or I of the crime.”
His heart hammered in his ears. Would his captors really get away with murder? Certainly such fools couldn’t have thought of everything? He was sure if he thought hard enough he would find a loop hole, something he could use against them. But what? How effective would his threats be, tied to a chair. Again, he worked at the rope and prayed for an answer, which came to him from the shadows in the form of an owl’s hoot.
A shot rang out.
Rory wailed in pain and dropped his gun. He fell to the floor, holding his foot. Blood poured from between his fingers. He rocked back and forth.
Braiton’s gaze swept the darkness for the gunman. When none could be seen, he directed his attention to Joleena, who by now was concerned for her brother’s welfare. While looking over at Rory, she lowered the hand holding the gun. Braiton took this opportunity to kick upward, knocking the weapon out of her grasp.
Rory regained a measure of his senses by this time and reached for the gun he dropped, aiming the barrel at Kevin’s head. Another shot rang out, hitting Rory in the wrist. The gun flew from his hand and landed at Kevin’s feet. Kevin kicked the gun to the other side of the room, where it was lost in the shadows.
Joleena’s eyes rounded with confusion as a young lad stepped from the shadows. In one fluid motion, the stranger had Joleena on her stomach, pressing the barrel of the pistol between her shoulder blades. “Do not move one muscle, or I will shoot.”
Braiton frowned. The lad’s voice was that of a woman’s…one he knew well.
“Raven?” he questioned. “Is it you, lass?”
“In the flesh, my shikaa.”
His heart dropped to his toes, fearing now for his wife’s safety. Though she appeared to have subdued Joleena quite successfully, there was still the threat of Rory coming to his sister’s aid. Injured, as he was, would Raven be able to match strength with him. Braiton struggled against the ropes again, fighting for composure. Bad enough he and Kevin found themselves in such a situation, but not his Raven. Nay, Rory will not take her life, too.
Raven's voice broke through his inner panic as she called over her shoulder. “Kathleen, hurry and untie your husband and Lord Shannon.”
From a pile of wood, out stepped Kathleen Grady.
She knew enough not to come alone, but now would he see both women harmed?
Kathleen didn’t hesitant for a moment. She ran to her husband and freed him before Rory was able to make a move to help Joleena. While Kevin bound Rory’s bloody wrists with the rope that once secured his, Kathleen ran to Braiton and released him from his binds.
He held his rope out to Raven, who was now keeping Joleena pinned to the floor with both her knees planted squarely on her captive’s back. “Care to do the honors, my lady?”
“With pleasure,” she said, handing him the pistol.
“Run and get the constable, Kathleen,” Kevin said.
Kathleen nodded and hurried out the door to get the authorities.
“Nay,” screamed Joleena. “I cannot spend one day in prison.”
“You haven’t a choice in the matter, lass,” Braiton said, his lungs breathing much easier now that both Rory and Joleena were restrained. “And ’twill be much more than a day for both of you. I’ve an affidavit signed by Evangeline O’Neill stating her suspicions you and Rory were the cause of her son and daughter-in-law’s death.”
“Then you have spoken to Lady O’Neill?” Raven said.
“Aye, lass, the morning before we left Glenview.” He smiled, pride swelling his heart for having such a clever and resourceful wife. “As you asked me to do.”
“Please don’t send me to prison, Braiton,” Joleena pleaded, tears streaming from terror filled eyes.
“Ah, but think of the adventure of it all, lass. After the vermin nestle deep within those amber curls, they’ll be sheared to the scalp. Pe
rhaps you could weave with them a nice basket. And think of the new clothes you’ll be given. Can’t say they’ll be anything warm or fashionable, but then again the guards will be glad to heat your flesh with their own.”
“Nay, nay, I can’t go to prison, Braiton,” she screeched.
“You should’ve thought of that before, Joleena,” he snapped, a hatred he never knew existed hardening every fiber of his being. “But then again, you didn’t think you’d get caught, did you now?”
“Have you no mercy?” she sobbed.
His tone was as cold as his heart at that moment. “Nay, lass, not for you.”
Joleena turned her head and glared at Raven. “You…you little bitch, how could you have figured all this out?”
“The inscription on the first page of the sonnet book Lord O’Neill gave me was written in the same hand as the signature on the receipts. It read: To my loving father, Shamus O’Neill. The fancy way the letter “I” is dotted, in a swirl, like a dancing snake, got my attention. And it was signed: Your loving daughter, Joleena.”
Rory groaned from his place on the floor. “I’d say she’s definitely not the twit you mistook her for, little sister.”
Nay, never a twit. Pride again coursed through his veins for his wife and the action she took to save him…although he’d clearly have a talk with her when he got her home about taking such a risk.
After the constables arrived and took Rory and Joleena away, he was able to fully size up the mode of dress Raven and Kathleen were garbed in. “It must be the fashion for all you lassies to dress like lads.”
Raven flashed him a playful smile. “Maybe I should tell Tilly of the new idea.”
He ran a finger down her smudged cheek. “How is it you’re covered in soot?”
“The doors were locked, so Kathleen and I climbed up the trash chute. How else do you think we got in?”
He chuckled. “My lady, I was so stunned to see you leap from those crates, how you got here was the furthest thought from my mind.” He smiled down at her. “’Tis most definite, Grania O’Malley would’ve had you fighting by her side.”
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