Fitzsimmons nodded. "They'll be here soon."
"It's about time."
"Everyone in London was looking for them when they broke out of Newgate. They had to lie low for a while. The London cell is still alive and well precisely because they don't act hastily."
"Well, except for-"
"Never mind that now," he growled. "As soon as we find those guns, we give the order."
"Shouldn't we wait?"
Fitzsimmons gave his companion a hard, appraising stare. "Awfully patient of you all of a sudden."
His comrade shrugged. "Haste can make waste. I'm as eager as you are. As soon as you get what you want, I get what I want. A free Ireland. I just want to make sure we don't act to hastily and ruin our chances."
The two sized each other up for a brief moment.
"And you, Fitzsimmons? What do you want out of all this?" he dared to ask.
He smirked. "For starters, the houses of everyone whoever looked down on me around here, and that little Eltham whore to warm my bed. Which means her husband's head on a pike when the invasion comes. And why not Parks' head as well, as long as I'm making a list? After that, it shall be as His Imperial Majesty wills."
"As soon as we find those guns. I promise. Just make sure all your people are ready."
"Don't worry. We're more than ready. In fact, I can't wait." He rubbed his hands together with glee. For even more than the money and wealth, his hands itched to possess Elizabeth, and bring the little bitch to her knees. And any other position he fancied...
Chapter Thirty
Autumn came to Ardmore, bringing with it air so crisp Will thought he could bite it. All Hallow's Eve dawned a bit blustery, but Will had promised to take Elizabeth to Waterford for her birthday.
"We can shop all day, and stay at a hotel overnight, and have a bit of privacy from our barrage of house guests."
"We could just tell them to go home," she suggested mildly. "We're well now, after all."
He sighed. "I have to admit to being frightened. The idea of living with just you and not an entire battalion is just too odd at the minute."
She nodded and gave him a loving smile. "I understand."
Will shook his hand. "I'm not so sure you do. Sometimes I envy Parks his certainty, his career. It was his destiny, from the moment he was born. Perhaps I should take up my commission again--"
Elizabeth shook her head. "No, my love, you're not a career soldier and you know it. You fought for the principle of the thing, not because following orders is your way of life. You were a scholar, a good landlord. You will be again one day."
They curled up in the carriage to try to stay snug and warm, but the wind swirled mercilessly around the vehicle, until the horses hardly dared to move forward, they were so spooked.
Will heaved a sigh. "Give me your shawls, darling. I shall blinker them. Perhaps they'll be less fractious then."
She did as he asked and he began to get out. The carriage door swung open with a crash as the wind caught it.
"Be careful," she called, clutching her bonnet with one hand and the throat of her coat with the other.
Will waved. He approached the first horse, and tied the shawl on. But the second one reared, his great hooves only inches from Will's head.
"Will, watch out!"
The carriage began to move forward, and Elizabeth jumped out and into Will's arms as the coach driver vainly tried to rein the beasts in.
"Good Lord, Elizabeth, you shouldn't have--"
"The horse was bolting. It would have been more dangerous to have remained inside," she explained as she watched the coach careen away from them and off into the distance, with the coachman shouting, "Whoa!" all the way, to no avail.
"He'll come back for us when he can."
"I bet he's half way to Waterford already," he grumbled, gathering her close.
"I'm fine, Will, not to worry."
"But the storm look as though it will be here at any moment," he said, pointing to the louring clouds behind them.
"We'll find a cottage somewhere."
They looked around, and smiled ruefully. It was a particularly bleak stretch of road.
"There was nothing behind us for miles. So let's keep going."
"Aye," she agreed readily. "I could use a good walk after being so confined for so many weeks. Perhaps we'll catch up with Griffiths and the team soon."
"Maybe," he said, though he looked as doubtful as he sounded.
"Don't worry, darling. All will be well. We're safe here in Ireland and together, after all. What's the worst thing that can happen?"