Page 85 of The Gift of Patience
Smith nodded. “Didn’t ask ’ow ’e knew.”
Ashley and Renforth exchanged glances. Their pies were delivered with more ale. At the rate they were going, Ashley hoped their man didn’t delay long in arriving.
“Guess ye didn’t need our ’elp any’ow,” Floyd grumbled.
Devil grunted.
“Ye think ’e’ll show?”
“Not worth doing the job if ’e don’t.”
That sobered them up a bit.
“Everything’s arranged?”
“Aye. Carts are ready.”
They continued to listen as the gang shared what they had been doing while Devil had been gone. After another hour had passed, Renforth slipped out to get in place. Ashley would follow in a few minutes. He drained his own ale and left some coins on the table. As he was slipping out, he saw the publican walk over and incline his head to Devil. It seemed their man had arrived at last.
CHAPTER 21
Drat!” Patience muttered as she tried to catch her breath. She had returned to the house to find the men had gone to the gamekeeper’s cottage, but she met Westwood returning from there.
“Has something happened?” he asked her.
“Of sorts. I have information I need to give them. Are they gone?”
“They left ten minutes past on horseback. You will never catch them now.”
“Drat, drat, drat.”
“Climb on and tell me what you found on the way back.” He held out a hand to assist her, and she mounted the horse behind him. Never mind that her skirts were hiked up to her knees. This was urgent.
As they rode back to the stables, she told him about the encrypted journal.
“Let’s have a look at it quickly before we go rushing off to the docks headlong into danger. It could be entirely unrelated, and we might put their safety in jeopardy.”
“You have experience with this sort of thing?”
“A little. Ash and I used to send letters back and forth that way when he was serving on the Continent.”
“That’s more experience than I have.” Which was none.
They did not bother going to the stables. They rode directly to the house and handed the horse off.
“We might need Maximus again,” Westwood informed the groom.
“Yes, my lord. He will be ready.”
Patience and Westwood hurried into his study, where he pulled out some sheets of paper. “You can assist me by writing out patterns for me. Use one sheet for the letters and another when deciphering the message.”
“You have done this a fair bit,” she remarked.
“As long as it is not overly complex, we should be able to manage in time. My only concern is delivering it to them. I am to be in position and signal from here.”
Patience wanted to offer to go, but knew he’d proclaim it too dangerous. While Westwood sorted through the code, her mind was awhirl with how she could manage to deliver the message herself if the code turned out to be something worthwhile.
It was about an hour before he recognized the pattern. “I do think I have it now.”
