Dawn on a Distant Shore (76 page)

Hannah said, "The
mailcoach leaves Carryckton for Moffat at half past five in the morning."
And then, in response to Elizabeth's surprised look and Curiosity's suspicious
one: "I saw it posted on the board outside the tavern. The Barley Mow, it
was called."

"Is that
so," Curiosity said grimly. "I'll tell you what I think, missy. I think
you got this whole thing set in your head as soon as you heard that sorry story
about Lady Isabel running off. Ain't that so?"

Hannah had an almost
petulant expression, and she said nothing.

"The only problem
is that we don't have the fare," said Elizabeth.

Curiosity's brow
furled down low as she considered. Then she reached into her headwrap with two long
fingers and drew out a single coin. A five-guinea gold piece sparked the light.

"In case of
trouble." She let out a great sigh, and many things passed across her face
in quick succession--desperation, anger, and a simple weariness that Elizabeth
understood very well, and for which there was no immediate cure.

"Hannah,"
she said quietly. "Go fetch me my satchel, please."

"Curiosity--"
Elizabeth began.

"Hush now, just
wait." Curiosity held up a hand. And so they sat in silence until Hannah
came back and put the small satchel on the table.

Curiosity opened it,
and reaching down into the bottom, she pulled out the pistols and holster Nathaniel
had been wearing when he came back from his nighttime ride in Dumfries. She rummaged
a little longer and came up with a bag of bullets and one of powder.

"Nobody was
paying any attention while you were bleeding half to death," she said to
Nathaniel. "But I thought these might come in handy. I expect you paid a
good deal for them."

"I did,"
Nathaniel said. "And I'm glad to see them again."

Curiosity surprised
Elizabeth by leaning across the table and taking both of Nathaniel's hands in
her own.

"You watch
yourselves. I want to go home, and I won't take kindly to any more delays. Do
you hear me, Nathaniel Bonner?"

Nathaniel nodded.
"I do."

"One more
thing," she said. "And then you need to get some sleep before you
start off. I think you should take Daniel with you. I never did care for the
way Moncrieff look at that boy, and I don' trust him now most especially."

At the nape of
Elizabeth's neck the hair rose, and she saw Moncrieff's face contorted with
outrage.
I should have taken the boy and killed ye when I had
the
chance.

"We'll take
Daniel," Nathaniel said. "But I'm leaving you one of the
pistols."

Moffat looked like any
other town in a Sunday morning drizzle, the lanes almost empty under a lowering
sky. Elizabeth took note of a theatre, an assembly hall, and along the High
Street any number of discreet signs for the services of doctors and surgeons.

"Ye see, Mr.
Speedwell's shingle just there," said the lady who sat across from her.
She was a small, round woman by the name of Mrs. Eleanor Rae, and she had just
spent a fortnight in Carryckton visiting her sister. "He's just the mannie
tae see yer guidman weel agin, mark ma words." And she clucked her tongue
in compassion, studying Nathaniel's silent form. "It's a pity, that's what
it is. But nivver fear, ma dear, Mr. Speedwell will put him richt again."

Elizabeth resisted the
urge to turn and look at Nathaniel. Curiosity really had done a fine job of
transforming him into an invalid--his throat and jaw had been wrapped
elaborately in flannel and dressings--but it was his mournful expression that
engendered Mrs. Rae's compassion. Elizabeth had had no idea he would take so well
to this charade, and she could not look at him for very long without fear of
laughing.

The mailcoach jerked
to a stop before a tidy inn.

"The Black
Bull," Mrs. Rae announced. "As respectable a place as ever was. Guid
food and clean rooms. Do tell MacDonald it was Eleanor Rae wha sent ye,
mind." She leaned forward to peer at Daniel, who was mouthing his fist. He
stared back at her with perfect equanimity, and she seemed to take this as a
further sign of Elizabeth's sad state.

"Sic a
pity," she hummed, and she gathered her parcels to herself.

In a moment the woman
would be gone, and Elizabeth knew she was the best chance they had of making
the necessary connections in the short amount of time available to them. She
had been contemplating how to formulate her question for the last hour, and now
there was no more time to waste.

"Mrs. Rae, if I
might ask--"

"Anythin', ma
dear." Her eyes went very wide and round. "Ask awa'."

"It is a rather
delicate matter, you understand--"

Another bobbing nod,
curiosity and goodwill wound together like the plump hands she clasped before herself.

"We find it
necessary to dispose of some personal items to pay for my husband's treatment
and our stay here. Could you direct me to a reputable ... agent?"

"Plate, or
jewels?" Her tone all business now, and a new light in her eye.

"The
latter," Elizabeth said. Beside her Nathaniel shifted uneasily, but Mrs.
Rae focused her smile on Elizabeth.

"Ah." She
produced a small smile. "It's fate that's broucht us tegither the-day. Ye
mun come alang wi' me, ma dears, and I will introduce ye tae ma neighbor, Mr. Babby-Sang-Way.
An Italian gentleman, ye ken, but canny aa the same."

Elizabeth carried the
boy with his face peeking out between two open buttons of her cape. He was curious
about the world and had not yet learned fear or caution, and he would not be
hidden away like an infant. His eyes--so green in this light--missed nothing,
and his expression was very serious as they moved along the lanes.

Nathaniel had
Curiosity's satchel-- filled now with Giselle's fine things, but his injured
arm he kept under his cloak, his hand resting on the butt of the pistol. At
first he had liked this masquerade that permitted him to listen without ever talking--he
owed Elizabeth a debt for coping with Mrs. Rae all the way from Carryckton
without any assistance from him--but now the dressings on his face had begun to
itch, and he had had enough of silence. The plain truth was that their options
were few and their time was short--the mailcoach that returned to Carryckton
would leave in just five hours. He had no choice but to carry on with this game.

They followed Mrs. Rae
down a lane lined with small shops--a gunmaker, a saddlemaker, a cobbler, all
shuttered. A redcoat passed, scratching his chest and yawning loudly. Nathaniel
pulled his hat down tighter over his brow.

"Here we are, ma
dears."

They had stopped
before a tiny shop with a door painted bright yellow. Above it a shingle moved fitfully
in the wind. G. Bevesangue, Importer.

Elizabeth thanked Mrs.
Rae for her help, shook her hand, and then the older lady had pointed out her
husband's shop down the lane--"the best milliner in aa o' Moffat, and do I
say sae masel'"--and left them.

At Elizabeth's firm
knock, the door flew open as if he had been waiting for them. The man who stood
there was no more than thirty, with wild hair that stood straight up all over
his head and a dark complexion. He had a thin, dry twist of a face and the
darkest eyes Nathaniel had ever seen in a white man. He did not seem surprised
to find two strangers on his doorstep, but he did peer cautiously down the lane
in both directions before he stepped back to usher them in with a bow and a
sweep of his arm.

"
Entrez, si
vous plais
." He smiled, and a gold tooth flashed beneath the neatly trimmed
mustache. "
Guido Bevesangue, madame, monsieur."

Elizabeth hesitated,
glanced over her shoulder at Nathaniel, and stepped over the threshold.

It was a small room,
furnished simply: in the corner a bed, a long table, a cabinet, two chairs, and
a lamp. Clothing hung from pegs, and on the table were the remnants of a modest
meal of bread and cheese and some kind of green paste. There was nothing here
to indicate why this man might be interested in paying hard cash for what they
had to sell but the far wall, which was crowded with clocks.

Elizabeth began to
speak, but Bevesangue held up a hand to stop her just as all the timepieces
came to life at once with a low whirring sound. Daniel's head popped out of Elizabeth's
cloak and he let out a caw of pleasure and began to wiggle with excitement, flapping
his arms.

When the last of the
clocks had finished striking the hour and Elizabeth had quieted Daniel, Bevesangue
bowed so that his hair flopped forward and then back again.

"Est-ce que je
puis vous aider, madame, monsieur?"

"Sir,"
Elizabeth began. "Do you speak English?"

"But of course,
madame." He put a hand to his heart, as if he were ready to swear to this.
"Pardon me, I thought that you must be French. Most of my ... visitors are
French gentlepersons in unfortunate circumstances." His eyes trailed over
them, taking note of the expensive cut of their cloaks, muddy at the hems.
"I myself am Italian, of Genoa."

There was the sound of
raised voices in the lane outside the window, and the pleasant expression on the
man's face disappeared. It came flickering back very slowly as the voices moved
farther away. Nathaniel touched the pistol again, glad of the heft of it
against his ribs.

"How may I be of
assistance, madame ...?" He paused expectantly.

"Freeman,"
Elizabeth supplied. And then: "Mrs. Rae suggested that you might be interested
in buying some items from us."

"Personal items,
madame?"

"Yes. Personal
items of some value," she finished firmly.

Bevesangue studied
Nathaniel from the corner of his eye.

"Your husband is
ill?"

Elizabeth's expression
hardened a bit. "My husband is here to take the waters for a throat
condition, sir. Nothing else fails him."

"But you have
traveled far," he said. "You must be very tired. Please, won't you
take a seat?"

Nathaniel put a hand
on Elizabeth's arm to stop her. Then he stepped up closer to Bevesangue to look
at him hard. Something about this Italian made the balls of his thumbs itch, but
whatever it was he hid away cleverly behind those black eyes. After a minute,
Bevesangue blinked.

"Your husband is
a cautious man," he said, without looking away from Nathaniel. "And a
dangerous one, I think."

Elizabeth smiled.
"How very observant you are, Mr. Bevesangue," she said. "Perhaps
we will be able to do business together after all."

A half hour later they
paid for a room at the Black Bull with coin, and a maid showed them to their room.

"Sixty
pounds," Elizabeth said, dropping the purse onto the bed. "It is more
than I imagined we might get. You must have truly frightened him,
Nathaniel."

"I don't know
about that." He went to the window as he loosened the dressings on his
jaw.

"But why else
would he have given us so much, with so little bartering?" Elizabeth
unbuttoned her bodice for Daniel, who was chattering impatiently and thumping
at her with a small fist. She stilled suddenly, and looked up.

"Unless--"

"He plans on
getting it back again," Nathaniel finished for her.

"Lovely,"
Elizabeth said grimly. "Just what we needed. A larcenous Italian after us
as well as the Campbells and the Carrycks."

"Never mind,
Boots. We'll be on the mailcoach by four, and he won't think to come looking
for us before dark. In the meantime we'll just set tight right here."

Elizabeth considered.
They had been up well before dawn to walk hard over unfamiliar territory for
more than an hour. There had been no chance to sleep on the mailcoach--Mrs. Rae
and Daniel both had conspired against that--and she was very tired. She could
do as Nathaniel suggested, and sleep here until it was time to go back to
Carryckcastle and claim the rest of their family before they started out for
home. That was exactly what she should do.

Daniel's steady
suckling was the only sound in the room. Nathaniel was still at the window with
his back turned to her, watching the lane below. He said, "Spit it out,
Boots, before it chokes you."

"If Lady Isabel
is here, I think I should try to talk to her," Elizabeth said. "If I
do not, I shall always wonder--"

"If you could
have solved Carryck's problems for him. Christ above, you are worse than any missionary
I ever ran into. Do you realize what kind of trouble you're headed forwith
this?"

This stung. Elizabeth
bent her head over Daniel to hide her burning face and to get hold of her
temper. She heard Nathaniel crossing the room, and then his weight pressed down
on the edge of the bed.

"I shouldn't have
snapped at you like that."

"No, you should
not have."