But somehow, in a move that looked effortless, Bennet jumped up, easily grabbing the bars and lifting his body up.
In a second, he jumped over the rail and disappeared into the shadows again. The fluidity of his movements made her heart race in her chest. Or was that the danger he faced? Either way, she gripped the crate in front of her. She’d not breathe again until he made it safely off theSea Goddess.
The boat had quieted quickly,but Bennet knew the men weren’t likely to be asleep yet. Normally, he’d have waited to board, but with Rebecca in the shadows…
He swore under his breath. Her being here made it more dangerous for them. He wanted to protect her, which meant he was taking more risks.
Slipping across the deck, he pulled his cap down low. He could pass for any sailor dressed as he was, which allowed him to blend in with the few men who were on watch.
The quartermaster’s quarters were nearly always in the same spot, a small room below deck near where the rest of the sailors had communal sleeping. Sure enough, it was the same on theSea Goddess. The room was quiet, but Bennet hesitated, knowing that even if the man was asleep, it would not be deep enough to sleep through a stranger entering his room.
But he’d no more thought that when the door burst open, and the quartermaster stepped into the hall. Bennet backed against the wall, dropping his head down and affecting the rough accent of a sailor. “Sorry, sir.”
The man grimaced at him. “Empty the chamber pot,” he demanded as he started for the deck.
Bennet gave a stiff nod as he entered the room, trying not to grin. Some boats were small enough that each sailor was known. But theSea Goddesswas large, and he’d guess the turnover of men was high.
He stepped into the room, easily finding the man’s jacket on the back of the chair. He dove into the pocket and quickly found a small slip, cursing again to know that Rebecca had been correct. Of course she was. Hadn’t she always had an affinity for the work? And she’d likely only honed those skills working on the paper.
For good measure, he checked the desk drawers, finding several sheets listing goods that had been transported. The beauty of these smugglers having been former businessmen—they kept meticulous records.
He pocketed those too.
And then he opened the porthole, tossing the contents of the chamber pot over the rail. Because why give the quartermaster cause to question the sailor who’d disobeyed a direct order?
Hopefully, it would take days before the man noticed papers had gone missing. With a smile, he started back toward the deck, skirting around the sails and then, when it was clear, slipping back over the rail.
He found Rebecca exactly where he’d left her, still hunched behind the crates.
Something that had been knotted tight relaxed in his belly as he pulled her into an alley and they began slipping through the dark streets.
Neither said a word until they’d made it to a major thoroughfare and found a hack.
As they settled into the seat, Rebecca’s hand came to his chest. “Well?”
He wrapped an arm about her shoulders, pulling her close, and she settled against him without resistance, her head coming to his shoulder. “I discovered a goldmine of information.”
She gasped as she sat up again.
First, he pulled the sheets out with the list of goods. In the dark, it was nearly impossible to read. Then, the small slip that had been in the quartermaster’s pocket.
Scrawled in harried handwriting was the single word:
Hammond
And below that:
5 20 12
“What does it mean?”she asked, squinting at the letters in the dark.
“I’ve no idea. It’s a code of some kind.” He grimaced as he looked at it again.
She turned the paper over, flipping it upside down, then faced it right side up again. “‘Hammond’ must be the street. It’s lined with warehouses for the docks.”
He stared. Her suggestion was bloody smart. “Go on.”
“Well, today’s date is the fifteenth of May. What if ‘five’ and ‘twenty’ means the twentieth of May?”