* * *
“I don’t think he’s coming, Danny Boy,” Billy Beekins murmured from his position at the back of the boat.
“He’s coming,” Daniel answered with complete conviction. They’d been sitting in the boat for hours, hugging the coastline, waiting for a signal from Jonathan to tell them that the frigate and a coach were coming.
“There it is!” Shavers whispered. “There’s Johnny Boy’s signal.”
Daniel looked to his left and saw that his cousin had given the signal. “Shove out.” He instructed the crew to row out a few hundred yards in order to time their arrival to coincide with that of the coach.
“How’re you holding out, Danny?” The boatswain’s mate asked. “Your injury paining you?”
Daniel put his shoulder to the oar. “It’s burning like bloody hell,” he admitted. “But I’ll make it.”
“Aye, lad, you will.” Billy Beekins smiled a gap-toothed smile. “You’re not nearly as peckish-looking this trip. You’ve lost your greenish cast.”
Daniel grinned. “I’ve come to appreciate boats,” he answered truthfully. “And the things a man can accomplish in them.”
“That’s the spirit, lad. Now, buck up, for the party’s about to begin.”
“Ride in,” Daniel said quietly, lifting his oar and locking it into place as the others did the same, allowing the skiff to ride the tide to shore.
They clamored out of the boat and into the surf, beaching the craft before unloading the French brandy, the leather dispatch pouches, and Micah.
“I’ll take that.”
Daniel turned to find Lord Espy exiting a coach that Daniel knew all too well, pointing a gun at Pepper, who stood holding a case of brandy.
“Have you a sudden taste for brandy, Lord Espy?” Daniel asked. “Or has your cellar run dry?”
“Consider it payment,” Espy said. “For the commander of the frigate. He likes fine brandy.”
“Would that be your brother? Commander Selwin Espy?”
“Touché, Your Grace.”
Daniel nodded to Pepper. “Give the man the case of brandy with my compliments.”
“You are a gentleman, Your Grace.” Lord Espy gestured with the gun. “Over here.”
Pepper carried the case of brandy to a spot in front of Espy’s coach and put it down.
“Now I’ll take the rest of it,” Espy directed.
“Greedy, my lord? Or merely thirsty?” Daniel taunted.
“A little greed is a virtue, Your Grace. And a great thirst for the finer things in life is likewise.” He brandished the weapon. And Daniel signaled to Pepper to unload all the brandy and give it to Lord Espy. “Now the rest.”
“I’m afraid that’s all there is,” Daniel told him.
“Not the brandy,” Espy said. “I want the spy and the dispatches.”
“We’re not carrying spies.” Daniel met Espy’s gaze without flinching. “And what makes you think I would turn one over to you if we were?”
“I have something you want.”
“Have you?”
“Yes, indeed,” Espy elaborated. “That is how this game is played. I have something you want. You have something I want. The gentlemanly thing to do is make an exchange.” Espy kept his weapon trained on Daniel as he backed up a step, reached into the coach, and pulled Miranda out, and twisted her arm behind her back. “May I congratulate you on your nuptials, Your Grace?”