Page 89 of The Worst of Them

A well-timed sneeze exploded from beneath the sheets—likely Frederick’s doing, as it sounded like a bomb. The cart jolted with the force of it, and the mule startled.

The second guard stiffened. Cecily’s features moved into innocence even as flutters of laughter threatened to bubble up from her middle. The crew, it seemed, were getting tired of waiting.

“I suppose that was the mule?” the guard asked her, eyes narrowed.

“He has hay fever,” Cecily muttered weakly, fighting to keep the smile from her face.

The guard gave her a withering look and tore back the sheets to reveal the six bodies piled beneath it. A whistle was pinched between the guard’s lips and shrilling before the cover could settle to the ground.

Soldiers came running from every direction, their boots pounding over the paths curling around the home. Cecily gasped as Cosme grabbed her around the middle, snatching her wrists and restraining her as he lightly patted down her sides and legs, checking for weapons.

Even without them, she could easily fight Cosme’s hesitant grip. Underselling her talent in any situation was difficult, especially as she was reminded of constables and prison guards. But she let him gain hold of her while she shouted and cried like she was helpless, any true fear dampened by the fact that she had her friends—and Jack would be here soon.

Fay and Killian rolled off the back of the cart as the others jumped over the side. They wore ill-fitting clothes, their hair dirty and faces smudged like street urchins—impostors trying to emulate the annual robbers and doing a clumsy job of it.

The guards swarmed, quickly overwhelming the six, and they, too, moaned and cursed with false woe at being discovered.

“Take them to Officer Marín!” shouted one of the guards.

Cosme blanched. “But sir, Marín will⁠—”

“Now!” came the barked reply.

Cosme managed to haul Cecily through the door into the servant’s wing, even as she pleaded and struggled against his grip. The others followed, swearing and yelling as they were pushed deeper into the house.

“I’m sorry,” Cosme muttered to Cecily. “Marín is a devil, but cooperate with him and you’ll be fine…” He slowed a little, looking forlorn. “Perhaps the captain might still be here. He’ll be more lenient.”

She tensed. The captain was supposed to be out tonight. If they were taken to anyone but Jack, it could be disastrous. But what could she say? Please, sir, I’d prefer the worse man?

Cosme called for the captain as they entered a stone corridor lined with wooden doors. Fading light through high-set windows washed the hall in tones of gray. The pirates’ cries and struggles filled the space, the guards’ shouts echoing off the walls.

A door swung open at the end of the hall. An older man lumbered out, blinking sleep from his eyes and scratching a scruffy beard that was too unkempt for his uniform.

Cecily didn’t know much about the captain beyond his laziness. Hein had said the man hadn’t always been this way, but trouble with his wife had made him care less for his job in recent months, and the governor liked him too much to dismiss him.

However, there was no telling how his passion for his job might change in the face of a robbery.

He squinted at the bodies filling the hall. “What’s this?” he grumbled.

Cecily gulped, stealing a quick look at her friends who wore similar looks of dread.

“This laundress tried to smuggle in thieves,” Cosme said, “but we caught them at the servants’ entrance. No weapons.” He glanced at Cecily. “Seemingly no plan, either.”

Cecily braced for the captain’s response. She hoped he would live up to his reputation and lazily wave them off to go back to his nap. But he wouldn’t. He couldn’t.

Her gaze darted in search of exits. The windows were too high, and she assumed the doors led to offices. The only way out was back the way they’d come, and there were too many guards.

She turned her head, searching for Jack in the growing shadows at the end of the hall. Would he know they were here? Or would he wait, unaware, while the captain interrogated them?

Behind her, Greyson caught her gaze. He gave a reassuring nod despite the worry tightening his eyes.

“We have an issue with thieves,” the captain finally said, his sleepy eyes clearing. Cecily wanted to shrink back, but Cosme tightened his hold. “Even if these are not our usual suspects, we’ll question and make an example of them, per the governor’s orders.”

The pirates shifted. Frederick cursed under his breath.

Cecily wondered what might happen if she started yelling for Jack or made enough of a scene to make him come running. How much would that endanger the others? And how much worse off could they get if she were to take matters into her own hands?

Her throat closed against the impulse to start screaming. A few more moments, a few more seconds, and maybe⁠—