“Do you –.” Sebastian made to push away from the table, unsure where Eliza was heading but knowing his wife would kill him if she knew he had been with another woman who was partly clothed, even with Edward, Dominic and Peter present.
They watched as Eliza eased a folded piece of parchment out of the waistband of her breeches, and placed it carefully in the middle of the table.
Edward picked it up and giving her measured look, slowly unfolded it. He swore as he read the contents before raising his eyes to meet hers. He wasn’t certain if he should be annoyed she had kept it from him, or pleased she had managed to keep it out of Scraggan’s reach for so long. Scraggan’s determination to take her alive suddenly made much more sense.
“Is this what Scraggan could be after?” His voice was harsh as he dropped the parchment onto the table for the others to see. “Why didn’t you tell me you had this before?”
“Because I couldn’t be certain you weren’t working for Scraggan.” Eliza hiccupped.
“I fought Scraggan’s men, Eliza!”
“You don’t know Scraggan and the lengths he would go to. This information would lead him to the gallows for treason.”
“It’s a list of ships, dates and times.” Dominic murmured, passing the list to Peter to read.
“What are the codes on the end?” Edward muttered, deliberately putting his anger to one side for now.
“PP2SS, means Pierre Pascal, 2 men from Salty Sally. Jemima thought the codes up and has a complete list of them. I don’t know who gave my father the list, but he took something to the War Office and left us with these and two other sheets. I had two and Jemima has two.”
They watched as Eliza withdrew another sheet of folded parchment from the opposite side of her waistband and tossed it onto the table before re-doing her breeches and tucking her shirt back in.
“A list of contacts. Sweet Jesus.” Peter whispered, staring at the list of names, dates and meeting places. “Who did your father have working for him?” He raised shocked eyes to Eliza. Whoever they were they had been very thorough and knew exactly the kind of information that would cement Scraggan’s downfall. With information like this, there would be more than enough people prepared to bargain for mercy.
“I don’t know.” Eliza replied. “Father never told us. He said that not knowing would keep us safe but I got the feeling it was someone in the village who knew us. Father didn’t want us to know because he didn’t want us acting strangely around them.”
“Makes sense.” Edward replied, wondering how their father could have allowed them to remain living so close to such a villain. Any daughter of his would have been immediately removed from the dangers and not allowed to return until safe to do so.
He paused as the importance of that last thought struck home. When had he begun to think of himself as a future father?
“So you have the names of the ships, the dates and times of arrival, along with codes and contacts.” Dominic muttered, staring in shock at the papers. “What does Jemima have?”
“She has the codes, giving exact details of what each shipment entails along with cargo lists and buyers, oh and details of the French spies they have smuggled into the country, who the spies are meeting, where and when etcetera.” Eliza finished in a rush, lapsing into silence as Sebastian whistled in appreciation.
“So, you and Jemima have full details of the exact cargo Scraggan has been handling, along with his contacts, including human cargo? Its information on his entire network.” Edward murmured as he folded the papers and handed them to a shocked Peter, who was clearly still reeling from the news about Jemima’s dire situation.
“This makes our return to Leicestershire even more urgent.” Edward declared flatly, wondering if he should kiss her or shake her.
“I’ll order the horses.” Peter declared, stalking from the room. Now he had a location for Jemima wild horses wouldn’t keep him from going to her. He stalked down the long corridor, his boots ringing loudly on the tiles with a sense of purpose that made everyone step back out of his way.
Within minutes they were riding out of the stable yard. Using the low slung gate at the back, they wove through the narrow lane at the back of the houses and shops lining the main street, taking a circular route to face north.
Once in open country there was little opportunity for conversation as their horses galloped swiftly towards home.
She could barely see straight by the time they pulled into the coaching inn later that night. They had changed horses more times than she cared to count, and had even eaten while riding. Something Eliza had never tried before and certainly didn’t relish doing again.
Everyone was driven by t
he race to return to Leicestershire and save Jemima from the gallows. Despite their best efforts, they still didn’t know if they would get there in time, or if the man from the War Office would arrive in time to arrange a pardon, or stay of execution while her guilt was questioned. It was all a jumbled mess that nobody seemed overly confident they could unravel.
The news of Jemima’s plight weighed heavily on Peter who, with each passing mile, had become increasingly tense and withdrawn. Eliza blocked out the image of her sister with a thick corded rope around her neck with a shudder, and felt hatred burn within her for Scraggan and everything he stood for. The man was pure evil. She could only hope there was some justice in the world and he would one day face his own reward for the evil he had wrought upon the innocent.
Wearily she dismounted, stumbling on the uneven cobbles. She had to hold on to the saddle for several moments before her legs could hold her weight.
“Do you want me to carry you?” Sebastian murmured, offering her his arm as though she was a fine lady he was escorting in to dine.
Eliza took his elbow gratefully, trying not to lean on him too much and shook her head.
“I’m fine, just a little tired.” She was about to turn back to collect her saddle bag when Edward appeared beside her with it clenched in his hand.