Angus sat down at the table across from him. “What are you talking about?”
“Lawler’s niece asked me to drive a wagon to Glasgow. What more is there to say?”
“The niece? Not Lawler?”
“He knows nothing about it. I had to meet the wagon two miles from here, and one of my brothers is watching it now. I’ll go when I finish my meal.”
“What’s in the wagon?” Angus asked.
“Six heavy trunks. They’re bronze statues from Greece and she has someone in Glasgow waiting to sell them for her. I’m to bring back the money and give it to her.”
“You? She trusted you to bring money back to her?”
“She likes me,” Shamus said, grinning. “She says I’m the only man in Scotland who has enough courage to
help her. She calls me a man of honor.” Shamus was laughing at this very idea.
“How much did she pay you?”
“None of your business,” he said.
Angus thought he saw the girl’s plan. Somehow, she’d got hold of valuable items and was going to sell them. Maybe, if she got enough money, she could buy her way out of having to marry someone she didn’t like. All in all, Angus thought it was a good plan, except that she’d tried to use Shamus. She’d never see a cent of the money. He’d stay in Glasgow, or board a ship, and no one would ever see him again.
Angus had to quickly put together an alternate plan. “I’ll go with you,” he said. “There’s danger on the road. You’ll need someone with you.”
“My brother is going with me.”
“Then I’ll alert Lawler to be ready for the money.”
Shamus gave Angus a vile look. He could see that he wasn’t going to get away with his original scheme. Only if everything was done in secrecy could he sell the goods and keep the money. If Angus told, Lawler would send fifty men after him before he’d gone ten miles.
“You take the wagon,” Shamus said, his face contorted in rage. “You go and sell the old things, then bring the money back here. I’m sure the young miss will be grateful to you.” His tone made it sound as though there was something dirty going on between Angus and the niece.
The last thing Angus wanted to do was to drive a wagon all the way to Glasgow, but he didn’t know anyone he could trust. He followed Shamus outside the little house, ducking through the short doorway, then went behind the house and saw the wagon.
As he stared, he could hardly speak. It wasn’t a normal wagon, but a very heavy one, seeming to have been reinforced so it could hold a great weight. More extraordinary were the horses attached to it. They were two magnificent Clydesdales, gorgeous animals, with their heavy hooves and thick manes.
As Angus stood there staring in astonishment, he realized why Shamus was so angry. Whoever had arranged this had spent an enormous amount on the rig. The statues must be worth a fortune.
Shamus handed him a piece of paper. “She wrote it. It tells the name, address, and time on it. James Harcourt. Red Lion Inn. Glasgow by midnight tomorrow.”
As Angus put the paper in his sporran, he thought that it was going to be difficult to get to Glasgow by that time. “What’s in the back?”
Shamus threw back the tarpaulin to reveal six heavy, ironbound trunks that had been bolted to the bottom of the big wagon.
“And there’s a coffin,” Shamus said with a smirk.
“A coffin?”
“The little miss told me it was a mummy from Egypt.”
“A... ?” Angus said, a shiver of revulsion running through him. He got himself under control. “Did you look inside it?”
Shamus shrugged. “I wanted to, but the miss said it had a curse on it, so it was better not to look. I took her word for it.”
“As well you should have,” Angus said, throwing the tarp back down and fastening it. He was going to be traveling the roads in the middle of the night with a mummy on board. All for a woman who said she hated him! Angus looked at Shamus and for a moment he felt guilty at thwarting his plans to get away. “Keep the money she gave you to do this,” he said kindly, “and Malcolm will give you more if you do what he tells you to.” Angus climbed up on the wagon seat. “Tell Malcolm I’ll be back as soon as I can with some money and we’ll get her out of this.”
“Who?”