Chapter 4 #2
The object of the discussion gave him a searing look over her shoulder. "You're doing a wonderful job, Mister Dyer, because Missus Rowe is not impressed." With that, she lifted the front door knocker and threw it back down with an almighty crash.
His right-hand man Gordy appeared immediately, a Royal Navy issue shotgun and boarding axe to hand.
The tiny woman in front of Warrick stiffened her back and insisted, "I've arrived with your...leader...or whatever you call him. I assure you there is no reason to launch a full-armed attack on two defenseless women."
Over her head, Gordy gave Warrick an anxious look, but refused to surrender his arms.
"It's all right, Mister Miller. Missus Rowe, my sister-in-law Missus Dyer, and I have business to conduct." When the man still refused to put down his arms, Warrick intoned, "Stand down, if you please."
Gordy Miller slowly opened the door and ushered them into the huge open space on the second floor of the warehouse which served as Warrick's parlor. He allowed Missus Rowe to enter first, followed by Marianne, who threw him a full eyeroll.
The petite widow spun around in the center of the cavernous room, taking in all the details. "You've re-created your ship. Haven't you?"
All Warrick could do was give her a stunned look. "No one else has ever accused me of that."
"But it's true. Isn't it?" She and Marianne exchanged withering looks, as if in agreement on men's tendencies toward insanity.
Beatrice sat on an uncomfortable stool in the center of Warrick's office whilst he provided her with ledger after ledger from the neat rows of the bound books occupying shelves in his study covering every surface, floor to ceiling.
Marianne sat in a corner chair, reading one of her Gothic novels and pretending not to notice the growing tension between Beatrice and Warrick.
At the end of several hours, Beatrice finally held up one hand.
"Enough. I've seen enough." She rested her head on her other hand whilst leaning against one knee.
"How anyone could take this much time with records of nightly activities and then create duplicate records that tell another story is beyond me.
" She stood then and added, "You've convinced me.
Now all we have to find out is who's doing this and trying to transfer blame to The Horsemen. "
She held out her hands and turned toward Warrick. "Do you want to view my records and see for yourself the extent of the thievery I've been suffering?"
"No, I believe you. If you're lying, you're one of the few people in London brave enough to lie to The Horsemen...and hope to live to tell the tale."
Con Dyer had ridden hard since early in the morning to get back to his home at the edge of Seven Dials.
When he guided Bucephalus to the mews behind the warehouse that served as headquarters for the Four Horsemen as well as a home for him and his wife Marianne, he gave a weary sigh before dismounting and handing Bu over to his groom.
Dusk had barely fallen when he reached the top of the stairs and was preparing to go to his former study to seek out his wife.
A soft voice floated out of the darkness at the top of the stairs calling his name.
"Come with me to the roof," she teased. "I have something to tell you...actually two somethings."
When he reached for her, she slipped away, opening the door to the stairs that wound around the warehouse to the roof. She raced up the stairs, laughing at his huffing and puffing behind her.
Once up on the roof, he noted a few stars had begun to spark out of the smog and falling darkness. He forgot about the heavens when Marianne ahead of him turned and waggled a bottle of wine toward his line of vision. As soon as he caught up with her, she produced two goblets from her pockets.
"All right..." he said, twisting the cork from the bottle and filling the glasses she'd brought with her. "You said there were two things. Tell me the most important one first."
"Hmmm," she murmured. "That's going to be a difficult decision."
"For the love of Zeus, just spit it out."
"We're going to need more room than this crowded warehouse in about eight months."
"Wait a minute. No more remodeling of my abode. You've already taken my study and turned it into a tea parlor. A man has to draw the line somewhere in his own home."
She was quiet for a long moment before shaking her head slowly. "You are such a thick-headed sod. We're going to have a baby. Where will the poor child lay his, or her, head? In a corner of your war room where you and brothers plot mayhem?"
"Since when did you decide to have a baby? We're not ready for that much responsibility."
She captured his face in the dark and pulled him down to her level for a long kiss. When she finally released him, she assured him, "You certainly had a vote, and if I recall correctly, you raised your hand quite briskly."
He growled and pulled her close. After a long tussle in the dark, she ended up with the daring bodice of her dress rolled down to her waist. A few low moans later, she paused to take a breath and taunted him, "Would you like to put your ballot in the box again?"
He pushed away from her and demanded, "Before this discussion moves down to our bedchamber and I lose all control of my faculties, please explain the second thing you mentioned."
"Oh...," she said, and tried to pull her dress back into some semblance of order. "It's about your brother, Warrick."
"Now what trouble have he and his men stirred up at the docks?"
"Trouble appears to have found him...the Widow Rowe..."
Con held out a hand. "Don't tell me he took our command literally to turn her up sweet to cajole the truth out of her?"
"Oh, it's much worse than that. When he brought her here, I sensed a spark between them they don't even know about yet. Remember what we said when Fam met Ethan, that connection?"
He hid his face in his hands. "Oh, shite...doesn't anyone in this family know how to gain someone's favor without falling head over heels in love?"
In the fading dusk, Marianne widened her eyes in disbelief at such a silly question. "I noticed what a fine job you did of avoiding falling in love with me."
He pulled her close again. "That was different."
When she stared up at him, he could almost feel her roll her eyes.