Druid's Daughter Read Online Free Page A

Doors of course.
Before I came to you my division kept trying to pin smuggling on the dive, but
they were always too slippery for us to catch. That it’s a den of villains, I’m
positive.”
    The Chief Inspector looked up with more hope on his handsome
features than Morgan had seen since she entered the room. He stood up abruptly
and placed both hands on the desk.
    “We’re going to surprise them, sergeant. Maybe we can pin
something even worse than smuggling on them. Gather twenty men. I want to be
well covered. Nothing must go wrong. I’ll go in first and the rest of you can
stand by to support me.”
    Sergeant Shriver had at first looked pleased and now looked
doubtful.
    “Begging your pardon, Sir, if you go in just the sight of
you will sound an alarm. Every crook in town knows Lucky Lance. They’ll scatter
and we’ll find nothing. There’s no way to disguise who you are. Let me rough
myself up a bit and go in first.”
    Chief Inspector Lord Laniston Dellafield sighed. A deep,
disgusted sigh.
    “Of course you’re right. But I want nobody to open those
blue doors after we enter. Nobody. This is of the utmost importance, sergeant.
No matter what you have to do after you enter, prevent anyone from going
through either of the blue doors.”
    Morgan smiled inwardly. The man evidently didn’t have the
slightest idea how impressive he was, his muscled heft coupled with undeniably
aristocratic face and bearing—a most unusual and alluring combination. He would
be remembered by anyone who’d ever seen him. The sergeant was right. Someone
who could masquerade as a worker off the docks should enter first.
    Morgan looked up, her expression impressed but skeptical.
    “Are you admitting, my lord, that my psychic powers might
produce visions convincing to an incredulous officer of Scotland Yard? I find
this hard to believe.”
    The Chief Inspector loomed over her as he rose to his feet,
his voice at its most distant as he answered.
    “Of course I don’t believe in your so-called powers, Miss
McAfee. However, in this case we will at worst round up some villainous types.
At best I will be proven wrong about you and we’ll find something to help
Jamie. Or some other child about to be shanghaied to a slave vessel.”
    He paused and let a little of his anxiety show in his voice.
    “I’m desperate for a clue. I’ve no qualms in ordering such a
raid, even if it doesn’t directly help us in our search for Jamie.”
    His face set and grim and his blue eyes clouded by inner
storms, he raised his glance just for a moment to Morgan’s. Morgan’s certainty
grew. He was the most compelling man she’d ever seen. What a shame they would
probably never agree on anything—he, not capable of even conceiving of the
world of magic and she, a daughter of the Druids desperately wanting to be more
than her poor powers allowed her to be.
    She struggled to put her private thoughts behind her.
Jamie’s safety was much more important than any of her desires.
    “May I go with you?” she asked.
    Dellafield stared at her as if she’d sprouted scales and a
tail.
    “Of course not. What an idiotic request. This tavern is in
the worst part of town and all its customers would doubtless give one look at
you and decide you’d do very well for their next rape victim. You are
extraordinarily beautiful, you know.” He turned and started toward the door.
“You definitely will not come near that den of murdering thieves.”
    She didn’t even blink at the unexpected compliment.
    “I intend to go. If necessary I will take a common hackney
and pay the cabbie well to wait with me outside the tavern. If by any chance at
all Jamie is there, he’ll appreciate a female to cuddle and love him.”
    The Chief Inspector looked his horror. “You are beyond
insane. I absolutely forbid it.”
    “I’ll take Ambrose,” she said. “No one will come near me, I
assure you.”
    Lord Lance stared at her, his aristocratic face as frozen as
ice floes on the