The Ice Captain's Daughter Read Free

he reads it.” Betsy’s giggle ended in a snort.
    “And I got a pretty penny for the brougham, too, though not as much as it’s worth. We won’t be needin’ it where we’re goin’.”
    Betsy hiccupped. “I’m not leavin’ England without Sam.”
    “Don’t fret. We’re not settin’ sail until we’ve had our share o’ the ransom.”
    “Ye were brilliant, by the way.” She giggled. “For a moment I thought ye really had been shot. When we get ter America, maybe ye should become an actor.”
    “Aye, I might fancy that.”
    “And if Sam won’t marry me, I’ll find somebody with money who will.”
    He snickered. “Ye’d best marry someone daft, then. Nobody else will mistake ye for a lady, despite your fine purloined feathers.”
    Betsy snatched the hat from her head and began whacking George with it. She chased him around the room until a banging came on the door. They stopped dead and exchanged a horrified look.
    “Coppers?” Betsy whispered.
    “Can’t be!”
    The banging continued, accompanied by the sound of a familiar voice.
    “Open up.”
    Wide-eyed, George threw the door open. An exasperated Sam strode into the room. “Did ye post the ransom note ter Sir William yet?”
    “Yeah, an hour ago,” George said.
    Sam cursed, grabbed the bottle of liquor from George, and drained it.
    “What’re ye doin’ here?” Betsy asked, aghast. “We didn’t expect to see ye till Liverpool.”
    “We said we’d meet up here if somethin’ went wrong. The girl got away.”
    “Ye dolt!” George exclaimed.
    Sam shoved him. “If ye hadn’t backed the carriage over my foot, she wouldn’t have done!”
    George returned the shove. “Nobody asked ye ter stand so close, ye fool!”
    “Stop!” Betsy pried the two men apart. “Tell us what happened, Sam.”
    “The she-devil ran off and when I grabbed her, she stabbed me with this.” Sam opened his jacket, where he’d woven the hatpin into the inside lining of his jacket. A spot of dried blood was visible on his shirt.
    Betsy gasped. “Are ye all right?”
    “Aye, but she saw my face. Then we run smack into a gent with a Purdy shotgun. I near got my backside ventilated.”
    Sam began to pace back and forth in the ensuing silence. Betsy pushed her fingertips against her temples as if to quell the onset of a headache. George folded his arms across his chest, drilled Sam with a level stare, and waited.
    “Nobody knows ye two are involved,” Sam said finally. “Ye can drive the brougham back to Gloucester and put this business all on me.”
    “That’s brilliant,” George snapped. “We can’t go back. I already done sold the brougham, like we planned.”
    “I should have done her in right off and dragged the body into the woods. The rain woulda washed away the blood in no time.”
    “What a minute…what’s this about doin’ Miss Roring in? I thought ye were holdin’ her fer ransom,” Betsy said, taken aback.
    “Don’t be daft. I never had any intention ter hand her over alive. As it is, she’s a loose end.”
    Sam passed a shaking hand over his face. Betsy squeezed his arm.
    “Don’t despair. That hatpin will fetch a few quid. Them is real diamonds. And I also have Miss Roring’s gold earbobs. Between the three of us, we might have money enough fer passage ter America.”
    “You reckon so?” As Sam peered at her, the pinched look on his face eased.
    “We can always roll a few swells in Liverpool,” George said.
    A smile lifted the corners of Sam’s mouth. “That we can, laddie.”
    “I’m a fair pickpocket, I am,” Betsy said.
    Sam chuckled. “All right. We’ll ride fer Swindon at dawn and take the train ter Liverpool. After that, we’ll buy tickets on the first ship sailin’ west.”
    Betsy threw her arms around Sam’s neck and planted a kiss on his mouth. “We’re ter be married when we get ter America, promise?”
    Sam disentangled himself.
    “Aye, sure. Right now I’m headed ter the tavern for a pint or