Starlight & Promises Read Online Free Page B

the smug smile on Garrett’s face, Christian’s eyes narrowed.
    “I already have.”
    “Already have what?”
    “Given her an appointment. She’ll be here next week.”
    “How?” Christian sputtered. “She’s in England, for God’s sake. Did you exchange missives by carrier pigeon? Is she flying over on a pterodactyl?”
    Garrett held out the letter. “Check the date.”
    Christian snatched it from Garrett’s hand and examined it. It was dated two months ago. “More devious than even
I
imagined.” He laughed softly and reached, once more, for the whiskey.

C HAPTER F OUR
    Hobart, Tasmania
    R ichard and James prepared for Samantha’s arrival as best they could with the meager resources in Hobart. Each day at high tide, Richard met the docking ships, anxiously awaiting a return letter from his niece, and his impatience grew out of proportion to the distance between England and Tasmania.
    He didn’t truly expect a reply so soon, and James admonished him to be patient. Nevertheless, images of the Smilodon raced through his head. For it to have escaped extinction for so long, it wouldn’t be a lone animal but rather one of a population. Evolution and the rules of mortality decreed that no animal existed in isolation.
    His need to return to the island grew stronger each day, but he held it inside, fearing expressing too much interest in the Furneaux Islands, too many questions relating to tides and reefs and ocean depths, might alert others to the location’s importance.
    On their way to the tavern one misty evening, Richard and James passed through a street darkened by extinguished gaslights. A chill worked its way down Richard’s back, and he shivered. Wary of the darkness and unusual silence, he urged James to gravitate toward the center of the street, away from the ebony pools of shadow hugging the storefronts.
    They traversed half the street’s length before encountering a malodorous puddle of water stretching across their path. As they circled around it, four men stepped out of a black alleyway in front of them. Glare from a lone streetlight flashed off knives in the fists of two of the men; the others displayed pistols. All were taller than average height, wider than the broad side of a ship. Their faces were lumpy and hard, framed with bristly beards. Their eyes glittered like chips of marble and held cold stares.
    Richard tensed and reached for the pistol inside his coat.
    “If I were ye, mate, I wouldn’t de it,” said a harsh voice.
    The man who spoke stepped forward. Richard had never laid eyes upon a more fearsome creature. Tall, beefy, red-haired, scarred, and one-eyed, with a whitened, puckered hole where the missing eye had been, he wore a ragged, dirty frock coat over a bare, furry chest.
    “I’ll just take that,” the man said, leaning forward and plucking the pistol from Richard’s inside coat pocket. He inclined his head toward James. “Now ye.”
    “I’m not armed,” James said stiffly. “Take what coin we have and leave. We have little of value.”
    The man squinted from his one good eye, and his gaze ran over Richard’s and James’s clothing, which was obviously well-cut and made of fine fabric. “A couple o’ swells like ye two should be good fer a fair amount o’ coin. Ye dinna look like no charity cases ta me.” He turned to his men and grinned. “De they, lads?”
    The others remained silent, faces devoid of expression. Slowly they moved, as soundless as wraiths, and surrounded the two men.
    James threw a well-aimed fist at the man in front of him, knocking him back on his heels, but he was no match for four men bigger than he. Richard knotted his fists and gathered himself to fight when a cudgel came down on the back of his head. His vision receded to black, and he soon joined his friend, lying unconscious in the street.

    James opened his eyes to near darkness. Odors of rotting fish and harbor sewage permeated the air, gagging him. Damp planking lay beneath his