Page 99 of A Scot on the Rocks

“Oh, thank goodness. Perhaps you can help me.”

The officer removed his hat. He was young enough that Jamie could almost forgive him for looking delighted. “Of course, madam.”

“I’m looking for a respectable inn, and everyone I ask sends me somewhere different. You appear to be a gentleman who knows his way about.”

“I should hope so.” He straightened. “There’s the King’s Arms just beyond the square.”

“Is there? I passed it, but a sailor told me it wasn’t suitable for a lady.” Olivia leaned a little nearer as if he were the one reliable person in all of Scotland. “Perhaps he was being unkind.”

“The man was a fool. You’d be treated very well there.”

Jamie saw Ewan’s astonished face above the cask. With a sharp jerk of his head, he sent the man down the steps before the officer could turn. The boat rocked as Tam received the load. Another few minutes and they’d be away.

Olivia’s voice carried pleasantly across the stones. “And you work for the Crown? That must be terribly important.”

“A demanding business, madam.”

“I can imagine. You’re responsible for keeping rogues from taking advantage of decent people.”

Ewan nearly dropped his end of the cask.

The young officer was enjoying himself far too much as he offered to escort Olivia to the inn. She thanked him, asked whether the officers often patrolled the harbor after dark, and expressed such admiration for their vigilance that Jamie began to wonder whether she meant to charm the fellow into proposing before the last cask went aboard.

Then trouble arrived from the opposite direction.

Lord Crawley stepped out of the tavern with his hat crooked and his temper considerably worse than it had been over the cribbage board. He recognized Olivia before she could see him and called out across the square.

“There she is! That American woman!”

The younger officer turned. Olivia’s smile faded only for an instant, but Jamie saw it from the quay. Lord Crawley came nearer, his boots striking the stones with the careless confidence of a man who’d never had to worry where his next meal would come from.

“She took a purse from me this afternoon,” he announced. “By means I have yet to determine.”

“At cribbage,” Olivia said. “You counted the cards yourself.”

“A lady ought not gamble.”

“Then you should have declined to play with me, my lord.”

Robertson had heard the raised voices and was coming toward them. Behind Jamie, Finlay had brought out the next cask, and there was nowhere to put it that would survive a close look. Robertson slowed when he saw Jamie at the landing, his mouth tightening with the satisfaction of a man who’d finally found what he’d been looking for.

Jamie moved to intercept Robertson, but Crawley’s complaints had already done their damage. The officer looked past Olivia to the water, where Tam’s skiff sat lower than it had moments before.

“What are they loading?” he demanded.

Olivia glanced toward the boat and Jamie saw her realize at once that a charming conversation would no longer be enough.

“Fish, I should think,” she said. “Though I wouldn’t advise standing downwind if you’ve just eaten.”

Robertson ignored her and started toward the steps. “Campbell,” he called, his voice carrying clearly over the quay, “I believe we’ve a conversation that’s long overdue.”

“You’ll have to join the queue,” Jamie answered, making no effort to hide his face. If Robertson watched him, he might overlook Finlay long enough for the skiff to clear the steps.

“You there! Hold that vessel.”

Tam pushed his skiff away from the stone, but the last cask was still half on the landing and Finlay was trying to lower it without losing his footing. Ewan caught the rope, braced against the post, and hauled as Robertson broke into a run.

Jamie reached the steps first. “Leave it!” he shouted to Finlay. “Get aboard!”