by Sahara Kelly
“So what’s the problem then?”
“Um…” He thought about it. “I suppose I was wondering if I’d scared you at all. Or given you a distaste for me after I took off my mask.”
There, it was out. The worry that had stayed with Dusk all night long after he’d returned alone to his modest quarters. Felicia had responded to his caresses with enthusiasm. But she hadn’t seemed to want to go further.
At least he hadn’t thought she did. Or maybe he was wrong and couldn’t read her signals. Or something. And that kind of futile mental debate had kept him awake.
Felicia was sighing, loudly, and shaking her head. “Men.” She furled her parasol. “Idiots, ninety percent of the time. Thankfully the other ten percent is delightful.” She turned her face to Dusk. “And I enjoyed that ten percent last night. Very much indeed. The mask was irrelevant. Your mouth wasn’t.”
Dusk found himself overwhelmed by her bluntness and would have gone to her and taken her in his arms if he hadn’t been steering a damn boat on the ocean at that moment. Unwilling to land them both on the rocks edging the shore, he simply nodded.
Then realizing she might have been unable to see his movement clearly, he spoke. “Felicia, you are the best and brightest thing to come into my life in years. When I kissed you…” He paused. Conveying emotions wasn’t his strong suit, since he’d always felt actions spoke louder than words.
But this was Felicia. She couldn’t see his actions unless he was right on top of her. Oh God. Please. Soon. He had to use more words than he was comfortable with if he was going to make this work. And he wanted to make this work.
“Shh.”
He frowned. “What?”
“Shh. I hear something. In the distance.”
It was a measure of his growing feelings for her that Dusk refrained from pointing out any of the twenty natural things she might be hearing. Instead, he throttled back on the steam engine, reduced the sound to a purr and their speed to slightly faster than an athletic duck chasing a bug.
“There.” She lifted a hand. “Do you hear it?”
“No…wait…” He strained his ears, trying to block out all the routine sounds. And yes, finally he heard it. The distant rhythmic thumping of an engine. Not their own.
He looked around. They were in a small natural bay, heading south-west toward the tip. He’d intended to take them slowly along the coastline, perhaps as far as the Needles if the day remained fine.
Although Felicia wouldn’t be able to fully appreciate the sight of the massive chalk walls thrusting their way up in jagged majesty off the very western tip of the Isle of Wight. She would probably be able to see their shape, though, simply by virtue of their brilliant whiteness against the blue sky.
Now, with the sound of a ship—and a large one too, if he was any judge—perhaps it would be better for them to take a peek around the headland and then retrace their steps. Or wake. Or however one termed reversing course when at sea.
“It’s a ship. The engines have just started up. They’re…cold. Irregular at the moment.”
Dusk glanced at Felicia. She’d put on her glasses, of course, hiding those eyes he’d seen last night. But every inch of her was focused, intense, listening with her enhanced sense to the sound that drifted across the calm waters.
“I’ll take your word for it.” He nodded once. “We’ll swing out in a circle, make it look as if we’ve been out all morning and we’re turning for home. As we go beyond the headland I’ll see what I can make out.”
Her lips tightened into a straight line. “Very well. Sorry I can’t be of more help.”
Dusk eased a little more speed from the boat and turned them toward the horizon. “Say that again and I shall stop this boat, anchor it, come over there and put you over my knee.”
Felicia paused, the shade of the parasol now covering her face. Yet Dusk could just make out her lips as they curved upward. “Really?”
“Don’t tempt me, woman,” he growled, the hungry desire within him lurking far too close to the surface for him to deal with a double entendre.
She simply chuckled, a sexy sound low in her throat.
Dusk managed to bite back a groan and turned his face to the wind, which had picked up over the last hour. Fortunately, there was scarcely any chop so his change in direction didn’t make much difference to the movement of the boat. The last thing he wanted was a seasick woman on his hands.
He had other plans for her.
The boat nosed delicately past the tip of the headland and immediately bucked as the protection of the cliffs was withdrawn. Dusk glanced quickly at Felicia, but other than a slightly tighter grasp on her parasol, she hadn’t moved.
He turned his attention to the ocean.
“Do you see it?” Her voice was quiet, barely distinguishable over the sound of their engine.
“Yes. A freighter I think. High out of the water. Must’ve been carrying quite a cargo when she came in.”
“How big?”
Dusk shrugged absently. “No idea. Single funnel but a lot of deck rigging. Quite a few thousand tons. Wait, she’s got a name on her stern.” He took the shining telescope from its mounting by the wheel and, feeling rather self-conscious, put it to his eye. It clanged against his mask. He cursed and tried the other eye, feeling even more like an idiot.
“Nice going, Nelson.” Felicia giggled.
“How did…?” Dusk gaped at her. “Oh never mind. You hear things far too clearly.”
“So can you make out the name?”
“Yes. It’s the Ahira. Out of Tripoli.”
“Hmm.” Felicia shifted her position on the cushions and rubbed one hand over the other arm.
“Are you getting chilled?” Dusk noticed her movement.
“Not by the temperature, dear man. It’s just that this is the culmination of conversations. From ideas around a table, it’s suddenly become real, hasn’t it?”
Dusk thought of the latest body, a cold young woman who would never live to bear a child or see another sunrise. “It always was.”
Late afternoon saw all four back at the Brass Pluggit. They alternated between being tired, elated, confused and determined.
Dusk made a light repast for them, since they were hungry, with the understanding he damn well wasn’t about to cook a large meal later on since he’d been every bit as involved as everyone else. Nobody argued.
Pierce let them unwind a little before attempting to settle things down and begin pooling information. He and Minnie had a lot to share and he had a feeling, from the expression Dusk was allowing the world to see, that he and Felicia had made a few discoveries of their own.
He opened a bottle of white wine, feeling the occasion called for it, and passed around glasses.
“Now. A toast.” He stood and looked at his three cohorts. “To a day well spent. To good friends—and to justice for those unable to claim it for themselves.”
The others stood. “To justice.” They raised their glasses and joined the toast.
Finally, it was time. Pierce pulled out pencil and paper, glancing around as he cleared a space on the table to work.
“Right. I’m going to see if we can put all our observations from today together and make a nice pretty picture for ourselves.”
“Before you start…” Minnie interrupted. “Have you checked the communications console? If we have any new information, it might be useful to have that in hand now, rather than later…”
Pierce grinned. “As it so happens, I have checked.”
Minnie wrinkled her nose at him. “I should have known.”
“Yes you should, but I’ll forgive you.” Before Minnie could snap back the tart reply he knew was quivering on the tip of her tongue, he held up a few slips of paper. “Unfortunately, there was little of any relevance.” He riffled through them. “Minnie, your reporter friend says hello and asks that you not forget to send him any interesting tips you come across down here.”
“Right. I’ll be certain to do that.” She li
fted an eyebrow dryly.
“Dusk, a Mr. B.D., a merchant from Whitehall, has let you know that the dark navy fabric is on order and should arrive soon.”
Dusk nodded. “Good. I need to see if we can find a seamstress to finish the drapery in the lower foyer.”
Pierce rolled his eyes and pulled the last slip of paper from the pile. “And Felicia…somebody named Three Eyed Jack says—and I’m quoting here—three fillies scratched from Ascot.” He looked across the table. “Are you using my system for some betting?”
She frowned. “No. That’s code.”
“I’d never have guessed.” He sighed, ignoring a playful punch in the shoulder from Minnie.
“What does it mean, Felicia? Anything relevant?” Finding Pierce an unresponsive punching bag, Minnie turned to her friend with the question.
“Unfortunately yes. Jack is a contact of a contact. A man who knows a friend of mine. Jack’s got his finger on a lot of different…um…areas of London, shall we say. He’s let my friend know that three more women have been sent south. From a London brothel.”
“Dammit.” Dusk clenched his hands into fists on the table. “We have to stop this.”
Pierce took a breath. “Yes, I agree. It’s no longer an exercise in theoretical suppositions. If those three girls are coming here, to the Isle of Wight, we know where they’re going to end up.”
“On the Ahira. Out of Tripoli.”
Pierce and Minnie turned to Dusk as he spoke. “That’s the ship?”
“Yes.” Felicia nodded. “We found her anchored off the coast.”
“Right where we expected,” added Dusk. “She’s light. Offloaded her cargo before, I’m guessing. The only activity above decks was some work on her rigging. There are cranes and lifting arms, just the sort of thing you’d expect to find on a cargo ship.”
“And Pierce?” Felicia leaned forward. “Her engines were warming up.”
Damn damn damn.
Minnie watched the expressions on his face, knowing him well enough now to understand the look of anger beneath his usually calm features. They all knew what Felicia’s statement meant. They had a limited amount of time to do whatever it was they could do to stop another group of women vanishing from England’s shores—probably forever.
She laid her hand sympathetically on top of his as it rested on the table. “We had a successful trip too. On some levels.”
She glanced round the table, seeing Dusk and Felicia’s gazes land on her. “We drove to the crest of the hill overlooking the Godolphin site. For all intents and purposes, it looks exactly like what it’s supposed to be. A new aerodrome.”
Pierce nodded. “It’s well situated, since the natural landscape will offer shelter to moored airships. There’s little in the way of trees or forests and the chine is easily accessible from the ocean. So other than keeping ahead of the weather—something every aerodrome has to worry about—it’s a valid development.”
“The building is going on, pretty much as you’d expect.” Minnie continued their story. “There are some very large hangars still in the skeletal stage, but there are other buildings almost finished.”
“One thing we didn’t see? Tracks. Cart tracks. They must have brought their supplies in somehow. But they didn’t bring them overland, that’s for sure. Not with the state of the road we used. The gate blocking the way hadn’t been opened in a while.”
“Which tells us what? We knew they were getting some of their supplies from the ocean side, by boat.” Dusk looked puzzled.
“True. But…and here’s the really strange thing Pierce noticed…they didn’t have a dock.”
“What?” Felicia choked out the word around a sip of wine. “That’s impossible.”
Minnie shook her head. “Not really. Pierce has a theory.”
“I do.” He stretched his spine and twisted a little, as if he had some knots to unravel. Minnie wouldn’t have been surprised if he did. They were all starting to feel the tension.
He stood and went to a small cabinet where he pulled a folded paper from a drawer. Coming back to the table, he opened it out and revealed a topographical map of the Isle of Wight.
Everyone leaned in slightly and Pierce moved the wine bottle so it wouldn’t cast shadows in the softening late-afternoon light.
“All right. We are here.” He rested a fingertip on the distinctive promontory that was the Brass Pluggit. And the two small headlands extending either side. “And this is Fotheringay’s place.”
The lines on the map grew a little closer, indicating the dip in the land. The ocean was represented by small blue curly symbols. Waves, Minnie supposed. “The cliffs—they’re this thick band of lines?”
“Yes. Elevation is shown by the distance between them. It’s a standard these days. The closer the lines, the steeper the drop. Each line represents an elevation above sea level in feet.”
“So the cliffs, which drop several hundred feet, show as one solid line?”
Pierce nodded. “Right.” His hand moved. “And that’s important. See here? This is the chine where the Godolphin site is located. A simple valley, fairly good size, certainly wide enough to accommodate an airship or two.”
Dusk leaned in. “No shallow water.”
“No. The coast is pretty much standard here. Cliffs to sea level, some underwater shelving, but very little, then a solid drop off to deeper depths. Larger vessels can get nearer to the coast, but they still can’t tie up to the Brass Pluggit or anywhere else without some kind of pier or dock.”
“So…” Felicia watched Pierce.
“So I’m thinking caves.”
Silence fell for a moment or two and Minnie realized how well tuned they all were to each other. A word like “caves” and three minds were immediately spinning a web of ideas around the suggestion.
“Of course.” Dusk was the first one to connect the puzzle pieces. “There are plenty of caves in the chalk. I didn’t go far enough into their area to see if there were any, and from the land you’d never know.”
“It makes sense.” Felicia nodded. “Use what’s available.”
“If there is one,” Pierce continued, “it would need to be fairly deep. And roomy enough for them to load and unload cargo.”
“It would be the perfect arrangement.” Minnie tossed in her comments—the same ones she’d made earlier that day to Pierce as they’d discussed this very possibility. “Shelter, of course. One run of a tender or whatever, unload the cargo and it would be under cover. They could move it where and when they wanted. It would be protected much better by nature than by anything they could cobble together.”
“And the other thing…” Pierce paused. “The other thing is privacy. Anything could be on or offloaded. Not a single person would be able to see what it was. The only visual access is from the ocean and if someone out there was watching, they’d sure as hell know it.”
“So the girls…” Felicia continued his thought.
“Yes.” Pierce nodded. “Concealed if necessary, perhaps in a crate? Or just beneath some sacking. Simply done. Nobody’d even think twice about a pile of packaging in one corner of a freighter’s tender.”
“Very logical.” Dusk stared out the window. “Effective, simple—I doubt even the workers know what’s going on.”
“I’m damn sure those who are building topside have no clue. They’re locals. I wouldn’t be surprised if they don’t even know about the caves. If these people unload at night, the carpenters and builders come in the next morning and there’s the wood and whatever else they need. Who are they to ask questions? The stuff might have been delivered overnight. A lot of building material travels after dark so as to keep the jobs running.”
Pierce ran his hand through his hair. “Even if some things didn’t add up, you know what they say. We see what we expect to see.”
Minnie sighed. “We don’t expect to find white slavers or killers next door. So we don’t look for the signs that our neighbors might be breaking the law.”
<
br /> “Human nature.” Felicia folded her hands and sighed. “Mostly a good thing, but sometimes…”
“Anyway,” said Minnie, “Pierce and I are going to confirm our suspicion.”
“We are?” Pierce looked at her. “How are we going to do that?”
Minnie smiled prettily at him, knowing her next words were likely to create an explosion of rather male wrath. “We’re going to take your launch out tonight for an evening sail.” She smiled again, showing more teeth. “Down to Godolphin’s bay.”
“The hell we are.” Pierce frowned.
“Yes, we are.” She squared her shoulders. “How else are we going to verify our assumptions?”
“No, I meant the hell we are. Personally, I think it’s the best idea we have at the moment, but I’m not taking you along.”
“Hah.”
“Don’t snort at me. It’s too risky for you to go along.”
“Oh really? And who is going to steer the boat while you try and see if there are any caves in the cliff? It’ll be dark, you know. Yes, the cliffs are white and a big hole is going to be fairly obvious. But you’ll still need a deckhand.”
Pierce’s green gaze stabbed at her. “It’s too dangerous.”
“Nonsense.” She stared right back. “I can swim like a fish if I have to.”
“What if the water’s choppy?”
“I’ll hold your head if you get seasick.”
He rolled his eyes. “It’s not a pleasure cruise, Minnie.”
“Do you think I don’t know that?” She leaned in toward him. “There are lives on the line here, Pierce. I’m not asking to join you as you sail the Atlantic single-handed. This is a brief reconnaissance run. Two sets of eyes are better than one. Especially if we have to kill the engine. Don’t want to drift onto the rocks, now, do we?”
Pierce gnawed on his lip, tension and frustration radiating from him in waves.
Minnie barely noticed Felicia and Dusk quietly leaving the room. She was completely focused on Pierce. “There’s one other thing.” Her voice was lower and less demanding.
“What?”
“I couldn’t sit here and wait for you, knowing you were out there doing this alone. Worrying about you would drive me completely insane.”