Free The Irish Bride by Alexis Harrington Page B

he saw Farrell as his possession now,
much as he viewed his horse and his lands. He also cursed O’Rourke
for being the baseborn dross that he was, forcing Noel to track him
down in the most unsavory of places. He knew that Farrell hadn’t
stolen anything from Greensward Manor, but the claim gave more
weight to his story. The pub was filled with rough-looking barrel
scrapings of humanity, all watching him like ravenous curs waiting
for a crumb to drop. By one of the steamed-over windows, a wretched
specimen sawed out some tuneless noise on a fiddle, adding to the
general din. The stinks that assaulted Noel’s nose—boiling pig’s
feet, dirty human feet, unwashed bodies, smoke, overloaded privies,
and God only knew what else—made him wish for his handkerchief-mask
again. But that wouldn’t do in this place. As it was, he could feel
the assessing gazes of those curs upon him, examining his dress,
trying to gauge how much money he might be carrying and whether he
was an easy mark.
    “ Where have they gone to
now, these two with the odd look?”
    Kate’s expression turned regretful. “I
hate to be the bearer of bad news to a such fine gentleman as
yerself, but I believe they found passage on a ship that left on
the early afternoon tide, about five hours gone now. Some soldiers
were in here earlier lookin’ for them as well, but I believe the
scurvy pair got away.”
    “ Where was the ship bound?”
Noel asked, feeling as if he were trying to pull teeth from a
chicken.
    Kate put a thick, reddened finger to
her chin in a revolting but sincere imitation of a coy gentlewoman.
“Well, now, I can’t seem to remember what I overheard. After all,
they didn’t tell me . . . ”
    Pulling a half-crown from his pocket,
he held it up to her. He was nearly as repelled as amused by the
greedy gleam that came into her small, pale eyes. She made a swipe
at it but he held fast and closed his fingers around it.
    “ Are you sure you don’t
know?”
    “ They went out on the Mary Fiona , bound for New
Orleans.”
    Damn that James McCorry,
Noel thought savagely. The bastard had lied to him. Ignoring the
grubby countertop, he leaned an elbow on the bar and briefly rubbed
his forehead. God, this was far worse than he’d imagined. “New
Orleans— America? ”
    “ Yes, indeed.”
    “ And it docks nowhere else
before heading out to sea? Liverpool, perhaps?”
    Kate’s nearly hairless brows snapped
together and for a moment, the ridiculous, feigned expression of a
demure lady cracked. “Jesus bleedin’ Christ, do I look like a
bloody port schedule?” He showed her the coin again, and she
resumed her mannerly pretense. “I mean, no, sir, not so far as I
know.”
    He pushed the half-crown
across the bar and she snatched it up so quickly, the motion was a
blur. Sighing, he straightened and lifted his elbow from the sticky
bar. He knew the Exeter was in port. His father was the majority
shareholder of the ship. It was just more bad luck that O’Rourke
hadn’t decided to buy passage on her. If he had, this would all be
over by now.
    “ Ye’ll be needin’ lodging
and board for the night, I would imagine, sir,” Kate ventured,
still posturing. “I’ve a nice room upstairs and a leg of mutton
turnin’ on the spit in the kitchen—” She turned toward the kitchen
doorway. “Ann! Cut a piece off that mutton and put it on a plate!
A clean plate,
mind!”
    “ Thank you, no. I’ve already
taken other lodgings,” Noel replied, flipping open his cloak to
reveal a wicked-looking pistol tucked into his waistband, just in
case some of the denizens of this filthy place had ideas about
following him. “But I appreciate your help.”
    “ Anytime, sir, anytime,”
were Kate’s croupy words. “It was my pleasure.” This last,
apparently, was more than the men in the bar could bear with
straight faces. As Noel escaped to the dark street, the wave of
muffled snickers gave way to full-throated hoots and catcalls that
only added to