The collection represented very little for the years Eden had spent trying to earn a living in Antigua. Nothing that would warrant him visiting the cargo hold as much as possible to check on his belongings. He could have stashed these under his bunk, and the box could have made a decent night table.
Then again, space was tight aboard ship, and perhaps he’d been commanded to stow his things below.
Eden rose. “I thank you, sir.” He held out his hand, and Seabrook shook it. “Hopefully, we shall not meet again, at least not under these circumstances.”
Seabrook chuckled. “I understand you, Major. Happy to have made your acquaintance, Captain.” He shook my hand as well, then I reached for a valise to assist Eden to carry his things out.
“No, no,” Eden said. “I’m used to hoisting them around.” He tucked the box under his arm and lifted a valise in each hand.
The clerk opened the door for us. I gestured Eden out first, as he staggered under his burden. I’d relieve my pride for not being allowed to help by asking Brewster to tote things, once we found him.
I glanced back before I departed for a final farewell and caught Seabrook gazing after Eden with an expression of vast suspicion. He smoothed out the look when he caught my eye and gave me a half smile.
I departed, wondering very much what was on the man’s mind.
I caught up with Eden who navigated the stairs awkwardly, but he landed without a mishap. We pushed our way through the long room, which, if anything, had grown more crowded, and back down to the street.
Before I could mention Seabrook’s odd reaction, or suggest we find Brewster to carry the box for him, four large men surrounded us.
One pointed a thick finger at me. “Mr. Creasey wants to see you. Now.”
CHAPTER 10
I faced the man who’d spoken, his broad finger almost touching my nose. “I’m very busy at present,” I managed to say coolly. “Mr. Creasey may write for an appointment.”
The man curled his hand into a fist. “He don’t make appointments. You come with me, now.”
“Steady on,” Eden broke in. “Captain Lacey can go where he pleases and do as he likes.”
“Not if he don’t want his nose broken. This way, guv.”
I glanced about for Brewster but saw him nowhere. Meanwhile, Eden and I were surrounded by four toughs, larger still than the ones who’d attacked Brewster and me in St. James’s.
Eden and I could possibly fight them, if Eden dropped his luggage. And, in this crowd, surely passers-by would jump in to assist, though whose side they’d take I could not guess.
“What does he want?” I asked the fist.
“T’ have tea.” The bully bared blackened teeth in a foul grin. “He says t’ bring ye for a talk, for an hour or so. Not t’ kill ye.”
“How polite of him,” Eden said. “And if we refuse?”
“I’m t’ bring the captain don’t no matter what. Not you, guv.”
“I’ll not desert my comrade,” Eden said stoutly.
“It’s all right.” I shot Eden a quick glance. If I went alone, Eden could go find a patroller or Runner to rescue me, or better still, Brewster. “I’ll see what he wants. You lug your things home.”
Eden opened his mouth to protest, then understood my look, and nodded. “Right you are. I’ll hunt up a hackney, shall I?”
The four men closed around me.
“Go on, then,” the ruffian said, finally lowering his fist and waving Eden off.
I concluded they didn’t mean me any harm, at least not at present. If they’d wanted to kill me, they’d not have let Eden go—they’d have herded us both to Creasey’s warehouse and murdered us together, so Eden would not bring the law down upon them later.
Eden gave me a nod and tramped away, balancing his luggage, reluctance in every step. As soon as he faded into the crowd, the four men stationed themselves around me and marched me toward the lane in which Creasey lived.
His empty warehouse looked the same as it had yesterday, with dust-filled corners and blank walls. As I hoisted myself up the stairs, the ruffian who’d spoken to me seized my elbow and half-lifted, half-pushed me onward, impatient with my slow pace.
They hurried me across the upstairs floor of the warehouse, more blank walls and darkness, the only light leaking in through a single dirty window above the staircase.
The man who held me opened the office door and thrust me into the room. Creasey was seated at the table with the chessboard, the only uncluttered area in the place. An unmatched chair rested on the other side of the chessboard, and the pieces had been set up in their rows.
“Captain Lacey,” Creasey said without rising. “Welcome. Do sit. We’ll have our game.”
I made for the chair—a maroon-upholstered Hepplewhite delicacy—but only because my leg was aching from all the stairs I’d gone up and down today. I sank onto its seat, finding it stiff and somewhat uncomfortable, but my knee was grateful for the relief in pressure.
“I have not played in years.” I laid my walking stick against the table, near enough that I could easily grab the sword inside. “I have heard you are a master at the game. You might be disappointed in me as an opponent.”
“Not at all,” Creasey said in his thin, dry voice. “Any game is instructive. You do know the moves?”
I inclined my head. “I do.”
“Excellent.” Creasey gave me a smile that could have graced a gargoyle. “You have white, so may begin.”
The player who made the opening move had an advantage, it was true. However, an experienced player would be able to best anyone, no matter who went first.
I studied the board, reminding myself of the pieces and recalling the games I had played in Paris. These chess pieces were not as detailed as the ones in Donata’s sitting room, but they were made of polished jade, one set a deep green of the ocean, the other so pale it was almost milky white.
Creasey would win the game, without a doubt, and from the smugness in his eyes, he knew it. He didn’t want to face a good opponent. He wanted to gloat, to revel in his power.
Well, I could let him. I did not have much pride when it came to chess, which had dismayed the fellow who’d taught me the game. The fact that I could take it or leave it had bothered him greatly. I made a note to write to the man and express my gratitude to him, if he were even still alive, for his training. It had been some time since I’d seen him, and I’d rather forgotten about chess.
I decided on a simple opening of sliding my bishop’s pawn two squares forward.
Creasey laughed, a sound like dry paper. “I did not call you here simply to demonstrate my ability at the game, Captain. I truly do enjoy playing for its own sake, and I rarely have a partner anymore. No, I summoned you to explain how things stand.”
He moved out a knight, and I scrutinized the pieces, trying to decide what to do next.
“The rivalry between you and Denis, you mean?” I moved another pawn, which would allow one of my bishops to stride out.
“There is no rivalry. James Denis is an upstart. I have tried to pay him no mind. When he first came to London, he was nothing.” Creasey spat the word and moved his second knight. “He had to scramble to build up loyalty, which he did by stealing clients from me and from others. I could have had him snuffed out at any time, but he interested me.”