Satisfied, Delia encouraged this scheme. At least she was not obliged to send for the man herself. It was not precisely adhering to Giff’s prohibition, because she had every intention of bearding the captain herself once he was here. But it could not be classed as hobnobbing.
Not that Giff had any right to dictate her actions. Besides, she was doing it on his behalf.
The thought was fleeting, her attention returning to the possibility of Piers showing his face. Would he do so? He was staying nearby, Giff had said. If he was going to appear in Weymouth, let him do so before Giff had a chance to confront him. Was there any way she could make sure of his advent?
Cogitating, she joined in a game of speculation got up by the younger element, but she remained abstracted. If only she could lure Piers into town, she might prevent the threatened confrontation.
Instead of joining the bathers on Monday morning, Delia opted to accompany Scoley to the beach again in search of fish. She had no real expectation that either of her quarries would make themselves visible to her, but she could not think of any other way to attract notice. Assuming they had not left Weymouth.
Very different were her feelings on this occasion. Instead of cringing at the sensation of being watched, she sought it, darting glances at every male who came within sight.
She cast special attention into shadowed doorways as she walked beside Scoley, flicking glances along side streets and looking back in case she was being followed. It did not make for a comfortable walk, but that could not be helped.
At last the groom gave her a frowning look. “You’re fidgety, miss. Are you afeared?”
Delia opted for frankness. “No, indeed. I’m keeping an eye out for anyone who may be watching me.”
“Watching you, miss? Why should they be?”
“Goodness, don’t you know the militia were searching the place for those ruffians who set upon her ladyship?”
“Yes, miss, and I spoke with one of them militiamen and he said as how the captain don’t believe such felons would dare enter the town.”
Much the captain knew! But she could not say so. She prevaricated. “That may be so, but I am not convinced.”
“But they’d be sticking their heads in a noose, miss, it don’t make sense.”
Scoley clearly sought to reassure her. Without giving away the truth, she could say no more. “Perhaps you’re right and I am needlessly anxious.”
“I wouldn’t let nothing happen to you, miss, don’t worry.”
“Thank you, Scoley.”
Though what he supposed he could do against the villainous Sam, who did not scruple to fire pistols at random, Delia could not imagine. She was a little afraid of confronting the beast herself, although it was certain Giff’s cousin would not risk his bully boys harming her in full view of everyone in the busy seaside town.
Although at this hour of the morning the place was relatively empty. It was blowy and clouds still hung over a somewhat turbulent sea from Sunday’s rough weather. The fishermen had not been deterred, however, for several boats were pulled ashore, each attended by a coterie of servants and the hardier among the gentry. Scoley led the way down the beach towards the nearest vessel and the distinct aroma of fish wafted in the air, vying with the salt and seaweed.
“You’d best keep close, miss, if you’re nervous.”
“I’m not, but I’ll stay within your sight, never fear.”
Seeing Scoley’s attention concentrated upon the fishermen’s catch, Delia resumed a surreptitious inspection of each male within distance of being recognised. After she’d mentally discarded a gentlemen of middle years, a couple of youthful pages, a burly bearded fellow who looked like a coal heaver, and a man wearing a leather apron, it dawned on Delia that she was hunting not for Sam or Barney, but for the rough-looking creature who had yesterday turned out to be Giff.
Chiding herself for an idiot, she was yet unable to help the riffle of anticipation that ran along her veins and prompted a little stamping dance in her heart for a moment. Ridiculous. The last thing she wanted to see was Giff making a target of himself.
The sound of hawking and spitting close by jerked her attention. Without thinking she turned to look behind and nearly reeled in shock. The ruffian Barney was standing a few feet away, bold as brass. She could not mistake the rough and soiled clothing, the unshaven face with its sharp pointed chin and shifty eyes.
He was looking out to sea, but he glanced back at Delia and touched his hand to his slouch hat.
Gracious heaven, was he saluting her? Acknowledging she knew him and not bothering to conceal himself. What in the world did that signify?
Delia looked to the nearby boat where Scoley was haggling with the fisherman. Should she move nearer? But she did not think Barney represented any danger. And wasn’t this exactly what she’d been hoping for?
Pulling her cloak close about her, she edged towards the man. He looked alarmed and backed off a bit. So much the better. He had evidently not expected her to confront him.
Delia lifted her chin and beckoned. “Come here, you!”
Barney hesitated, glanced right and left and then pointed to himself.