by Becca Andre
“Shh. Don’t tell.” She pulled out a pair of trousers, cut off to just above the knee, and a simple cotton waistcoat. She changed into the garments, then took a seat on the side of the bed, giving Molly a chance to fall asleep.
Half an hour later, she slipped out of her alcove and paused to listen. Molly’s even breathing came from her bunk.
Briar crossed to the window and gently pushed aside the curtains. Daily use made the window easy to open, the action relatively soundless. She was about to climb out when a slight weight landed on her shoulder. Lock.
“Fine. You can come,” she whispered. “Be the necklace.”
He immediately complied, the warm metal settling around her throat with a familiar feel.
Briar climbed out the window, gripping the rub rail with her bare toes until she got her balance. She climbed down the side of the boat until she had lowered herself into the water. The canal’s minimum-required depth was four feet, but with the recent rain, it was deeper. Briar swam over to the towpath, moving slowly to avoid making noise.
She climbed out onto the bank, sinking almost ankle-deep in the mud. The moon was behind the clouds, so she felt her way along. Finally, her bare feet encountered the crushed gravel and muddy ruts of the towpath.
She glanced back at the boat. Lantern light shone through the windows of the bunkhouse, and the occasional rumble of male voices carried to her. No excited cries reached her ears, only the sound of the occasional laugh. Unable to suppress a grin, she turned south. She would be in Massillon in under an hour. Plenty of time to do what was needed and return to the Briar Rose.
Briar kept to the shadows, dropping to a knee behind a stack of lumber before she peeked around one end to observe the docks. The streetlights had been lit along the road fronting the canal. Only a handful of boats were tied up for the night, but she immediately recognized the River Shark. From her angle, she couldn’t tell if there was anyone on deck or awake in the cabins.
“Should I ask what you’re doing?” an accented voice questioned from directly behind her.
Briar managed to bite back a scream, spinning to face Grayson who knelt beside her. “Damnation!” She smacked his shoulder. “I think my heart just stopped.”
He grinned. “What are you doing?” He was barefoot, his trousers wet, and his linen shirt clung to his chest. Like her, he had swum the canal.
“Dale Darby is in town,” she explained. “I thought I’d pay him back for the damage he did to our rudder.”
“Hmm. Now I understand.”
She eyed him. “Are you going to try to discourage me?”
“No. I thought I’d help you.”
She arched an eyebrow. “You’ll help me vandalize a boat?” Eli would have tried to talk her out of it.
“Unless you prefer I do it on my own.”
“Hell no.”
“Afraid I’ll get in trouble?” he asked.
“I’m afraid you’ll have all the fun.”
He smirked. “Someone has an evil streak.”
“Not evil. Mischievous.”
“Ah.”
“What’s your excuse for going along with this?” she asked.
“You’re a bad influence.”
“Says the vile ferromancer.”
“Yes.” His expression sobered. “Are you still upset with me?”
“No, just…tell me the whole truth from now on, all right?”
“I’ll try. It’s hard to break habits of a lifetime.”
“Like going along with this bit of vandalism?”
“I’m terribly wicked.” He nudged her with his shoulder. “What’s your plan?”
She looked back at the dock. “We’ll swim around the far side of the boat, and after judging whether all is quiet on board, we’ll detach the rudder.”
“Detach? That would make the problem immediately recognizable the first time his steersman turns the tiller. What if we loosen the rudder on the rudder post. Once he gets up to speed and turns it a few times, it will break free.”
“He won’t be able to steer and will run aground.” She grinned. “You are wicked.”
“Vile ferromancer, remember?”
“How could I forget? Come on.” She left the cover of the timber, and backtracking a little, crept down to the water and waded in.
“Good thing you don’t rust,” she said as he waded in after her.
“Oh, ha ha. I’m an excellent swimmer. Try to keep up.” He sank into the water and surged past her.
She had no trouble catching him. “I’ve lived my whole life on the canal. You try to keep up.” She left him in her wake, though she heard his soft chuckle. Maybe she would challenge him to a race sometime.
There weren’t any lights visible in the windows of Darby’s boat, nor any lanterns lit on deck. Canal boats typically ran from dawn to dark, so most canallers turned in early in order to rise with the sun. Though by the look of Darby’s boat, this didn’t seem to be a working trip. His cargo holds were empty.
She reached the back of the boat first, but Grayson was barely a stroke behind her.
“If you’ll allow me?” he whispered. She didn’t understand until he held up a silver pocket knife.
“You are the mechanical genius,” she whispered, and caught a flash of white teeth in the gloom. “I’ll be lookout.” She worked her way to the corner of the boat where she had a partial view of the dock. Darby’s boat was the last in line. With no boat behind them, Briar felt exposed.
Grayson worked in silence, only a small thump or crack of wood intermittently reached her ears. She was suddenly glad for his company and expertise. She would’ve been much clumsier about all of this.
Actually, this was the first time she had ever had an accomplice on one of her… excursions. Eli might laugh at her after the fact—once the danger was past—but he would never have consented to help, no matter how deserving the recipient.
“I’m finished.” Grayson swam over to her.
“Already?”
“Yes.”
She eyed him, but here at the edge of the boat, they were in the shadow of the dock. “I’d be skeptical, but this is you. I should probably ask what took you so long.”
“I’m new to boat rudders. My only experience is briefly fixing yours.”
She smiled. “Well, you’ll need to study up on it if you’re going to be my partner in crime.”
“I’ll work on it.”
She bit back a laugh at his solemn tone. “Come on.” She let go of the boat and swam back the way they had come.
They were climbing out of the water, just passed the docks, when Grayson gripped her arm. “Look,” he whispered, nodding toward the boats.
She turned to look and was shocked to see Darby crossing the street fronting the docks.
“Do you think he heard us?” she whispered.
“Unlikely. Not with the creaking of the boat and the wharf.”
She frowned as Darby disappeared down a side street. “Let’s follow him.”
“Two wet people sneaking through the streets will be a bit suspicious.”
“We’ll keep to the shadows. Come on, I thought you were my partner in crime.”
“I am. I’m just pointing out the need for stealth.”
“Of course.” She glanced around them, and seeing no one, sprinted for the side street Darby had taken. She stopped at the corner and put her back to the wall.
“That was stealthy?” Grayson leaned against the wall beside her.
“Did we get caught?”
“Point taken.”
She peered around the corner into the next street. It was little more than alley with a single streetlight burning at the far end. Darby reached the light, and with a quick look around, turn
ed left. What was he doing?
“Come on,” Briar whispered and stepped around the corner. She didn’t wait to see if Grayson followed before jogging to the end of the street. Once again, she stopped and looked around the corner.
Darby hadn’t gone far. He stood a few yards up this new street, just outside a tavern. Oddly, he didn’t go inside. He looked around, his actions a little jerky and furtive. Did he feel her watching him?
A shoeshine stand had been placed along the cobbled street and stood between her and Darby. While his back was to them, she crept forward and ducked behind the stand. Grayson arrived a moment later, squeezing in behind her.
“He appears to be waiting for someone,” she whispered. “I want to see who it is.”
“He seems nervous,” Grayson commented.
Briar waited, debating whether to peek out and check on him.
“I was startin’ to think you forgot our appointment,” Darby’s voice carried back to her.
Briar got up on her knees and peered around the elevated chair, aware of Grayson imitating her. To her surprise, Darby’s friend was a woman.
“I didn’t forget.” She stepped closer to him.
Darby chuckled, then reached up to trace a finger along the edge of her low-cut gown.
She smacked his hand away. “None of that until I see some coin.”
“A shrewd businesswoman, aren’t you?” Darby reached in his pocket.
Blushing, Briar dropped back to her seat behind the stand.
Grayson sat down beside her with a soft snort of amusement. “Guess that explains why he was sneaking around.”
“He’s got a wife back in Portsmouth,” Briar said, outraged for the woman, though she didn’t know her. “His son and daughter-in-law run the boat with him.”
“Charming fellow.” Grayson glanced over. “Are you blushing?”
“No,” she lied. “I’m disgusted. I never liked Darby, but I thought he was at least a family man.”
“People are rarely what they seem.”
Briar couldn’t help but wonder if Grayson was referring to more than just the current situation. She considered asking when Darby’s voice carried to them.
“You got a room?” Darby asked.
“I got a place,” his new friend answered.
Briar wasn’t about to let him walk away. She shoved herself to her feet. “Dale Darby,” she called out.
He spun to face her with a gasp, clearly fearful that a family member had discovered him. His blinked in surprise as Briar stepped out from behind the chair.
“Well, if it isn’t the infamous Briar Rose.” Darby’s expression turned smug. He looked past her and his smile faded a little.
She didn’t turn to look, but knew Grayson had stepped up behind her.
“Out for a late swim with one of your crewmen?” Darby asked, his expression suggesting that she had done more than swim.
“Does your wife know where you are?” she shot back.
Darby stood straighter. “What are you implying? I was asking directions to—”
“Please,” Briar cut him off. “I’ve been watching you since you stopped here.”
Darby opened his mouth and closed it, clearly flustered.
The woman he’d been chatting with rolled her eyes, then leaned over and snatched the coin purse from Darby’s hand.
“Hey, now.” Darby spun to face her. “What are you about?”
She extracted several coins, then tossed the purse back to him. “For the time I’ve wasted.”
Darby sputtered, but couldn’t come up with an argument before she walked away.
Briar wasn’t certain whether to laugh or be embarrassed. She decided to ignore it. “You’re working for Andrew,” she said instead. “You’ve been distributing his posters.”
“What makes you think that?” Darby glanced around as if just realizing how alone he was—or maybe planning to run.
“I’m not without resources,” she said, evading the probe. “Not that it was hard to guess when I saw that you’d added your own name to a poster in Canal Dover. Does Andrew know about that or were you planning to act as middle man to get a cut of the reward?”
“I’m not interested in the money.”
“Bullshit. Who wouldn’t want two hundred dollars?”
“Someone who was offered something else,” Grayson said softly.
Briar glanced up at him. That would explain why Darby wasn’t running any cargo—and seemed to have put everything on hold to chase her up the canal.
She turned back to Darby, but he was staring at Grayson.
“He ain’t no crewman,” Darby said.
“You’ve met before,” Briar reminded him. When Darby didn’t look particularly enlightened, she continued. “He returned the knife Hester stuck me with.”
A smug smile twisted Darby’s mouth. “Your fancy man.” No doubt, that had been Hester’s phrasing. “Heard you’ve been…cavorting with some foreigner.”
Grayson stepped past her, closing with Darby.
“Gray—” She didn’t get to finish before he grabbed Darby by the collar. He jerked him around and shoved him into the shoe-shine chair.
Briar blinked. Darby was a willowy fellow, but a guy Grayson’s size shouldn’t be able to manhandle him like that.
Grayson braced his hands on the arms of the chair and leaned closer. “I don’t care for your implications, sir.”
Darby swallowed, his prominent Adam’s apple bobbing. “Let me up.”
“What did Solon offer you?” Grayson asked.
“Who?” Darby looked genuinely confused.
“Andrew then. If you’re not doing this for the money, then why are you chasing Miss Rose across the state at his bidding?”
“Ain’t none of your business.”
“Andrew’s offer isn’t what it seems—unless you wish to become another man’s slave.”
“You don’t know nothing.”
Grayson arched a brow. “Are you certain of that?”
“Don’t go poking your nose where it don’t belong.” Darby’s grin turned sly. “You just keep poking what you’re poking.”
Grayson seized him by the throat. “How about I just squeeze?”
“Grayson!” She gripped his arm. “Don’t!”
A pause and Grayson released Darby with a shove. “Leave Miss Rose alone,” he said, his words cool. “Or you will deal with me.” He stepped back.
“I ain’t afraid of some dandy.” Darby’s bravado returned now that Grayson was no longer in his face. He tried to stand, but abruptly dropped back into his chair. “What the hell?” He struggled to pull his hands away from the chair, but the metal arms had looped around his wrists.
“You have no idea what you’ve stumbled into, Mr. Darby. Heed my advice.”
Darby’s eyes widened as he stared at Grayson.
Movement at the far end of the street drew Briar’s attention. Someone carrying a lantern was moving their way. The light glinted off something metallic on his coat. A policeman’s badge.
Chapter 14
Briar grabbed Grayson’s wrist and pulled him after her. He glanced back and seeing the approaching policemen, hurried along beside her.
She expected a shout to come at any moment, but to her shock and relief, none did. Keeping to the shadows, they returned to the canal. Briar didn’t slow her pace until the darkness along the towpath surrounded them.
She released Grayson’s wrist, but continued walking. “Should you have done that?”
“I didn’t care for his implications.” Grayson’s tone was cold.
“What happens when that policeman finds him? Darby will probably tell him what you are.”
“He will be written off as a drun
kard who fell victim to a prank,” Grayson answered in the same cool monotone.
Shit. She grabbed his arm and pulled him to a stop. “Did you overdo it and make yourself cold?”
“No. He made me angry.” Exasperation slipped into his cool tone. “I thought I handled that well, considering.”
“If you say so.”
“Don’t give me that. Certainly, his slandering you made you mad.”
“It’s Darby. From him it’s expected.”
Grayson remained silent, and she couldn’t make out his expression in the darkness.
“But thank you for coming to my defense,” she added, still uncertain as to his frame of mind.
“Personally, I hope Solon does make him soulless. He deserves it.”
“But does Solon deserve him?”
“Absolutely.”
“Ah.” She didn’t bother to hide her smile in the darkness. “Then they shall have their just rewards.”
“All teasing aside, I suppose I should go back and free him.” He turned his head toward the town they’d just left.
“He can’t get free on his own?”
“He can, though he might need some lard to lubricate his wrists.”
“Then leave him. I didn’t care for his slander.”
Grayson abruptly laughed.
“What?” she asked. “I thought you felt the same.”
“I do, but I’m supposed to be the bad guy.”
“Your bad guy could use some work, but you’re showing promise.”
“Thank you. It means a lot coming from you.”
She could hear the amusement in his voice. “Enough with the flattery. Let’s get back to the boat.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He fell in step beside her as they walked along the towpath, the mud sucking at their bare feet.
“So, is canal life always like this?” he asked after they’d walked a while in silence.
“Like what?”
“Fistfights, sabotaging boats, running from the law.”
“Those are the highlights. It’s not always that interesting, but I still enjoy it. I’d hate to be tied down to one place.”