When he wasn't amidst the hatching of a clever plan, Josiah was always so bored. Especially with this damnable downtime at camp. Usually, he liked nothing more than to start up a conversation and entertain the young ladies. But Miss Jones had hit the bottle early and Miss Jackson and Miss Gaskill were sewing quietly under Miss Grimshaw's watchful eye. The rest of the camp was busy working on various chores and he didn't want to be dragged into any manual labor.
As he strolled his way towards the back of the house, he came across Miss O'Shea. He debated walking on, but he hadn't spoken to anyone this morning and her conversation was sure to be more appealing than Mr. Bell's or Mr. Williamson's. Well, beggars couldn't be choosers. Molly was touchier than usual lately and he'd heard she'd become insufferable. But perhaps if he mustered all his good humor, he could cheer up the dour damsel.
She was hefting a bag into the back of a wagon when he reached her. He bowed and greeted amiably, "Ah, the lovely Irish ruby who indulges us mortals with her very presence."
"Take your parlor tricks somewhere else, Mr. Trelawny. I ain't in the mood for it."
She lifted a box from the ground and loaded that next. Distracted from his prepared performance, he raised an eyebrow. "What, may I ask, are you doing, Miss O'Shea?"
"Packin'. And I don't have time for your nonsense."
"Time?" He flourished his hands dramatically. "Why, all we have is time, my dear. It's the very essence of life."
"Leave me be."
Josiah followed her as she moved around the wagon and checked the horse's reins. He'd never seen her perform such an action and asked, "Are you...heading somewhere, my dear?"
"Home," she answered shortly.
Bewildered, he said, "But you are home."
She stopped and her green eyes glared up at him. "To Ireland."
Josiah frowned. "Does, uh, Dutch know about this...extended travel plan of yours?"
It was the wrong thing to say.
"Dutch? You can tell Dutch he can take his philosophies and lies and dreams and shove it up his arse. He bloody well had his chance with me and I'm done bein' treated less than a dog in this camp."
Josiah shifted, uneasy at her harsh tones. "But, miss, what about loyalty?"
"If he wanted loyalty then maybe he shoulda been loyal to me!" Dark circles resided under her wild eyes. Oh dear. The rumors were true. She was past reason.
She ranted on, "He acts all high and mighty and for what? We ain't rich. We ain't livin' the life he promised."
An inner voice of his said, she has a point. Ignoring it, Josiah told her, "Never lose faith."
She said bitterly, "If I wanted to keep my faith, I'd've never left my Mamó in the first place."
"Pray tell, what is a 'Mamó'?"
"My grandmother." She stared at him in challenge. "I don't owe Dutch nothin' that I ain't already paid tenfold with bein' his...his mistress."
What offense had old Dutch done to create so much darkness in a woman who'd once stared at him all day with pure reverence?
Josiah intended on questioning her further, out of interest at her change of heart and plain curiosity, but suddenly Abigail came marching up to them.
The dark-haired woman demanded, "What do you think you're doing with this wagon, Miss O'Shea?
Molly turned, her claws out and ready to pounce so Josiah stepped between them. "Ah, hello Miss Roberts. Marvelous timing. Just the woman I wanted to see."
Abigail narrowed her eyes. "For what?"
Thinking quickly, he threw an arm over Miss O'Shea, squeezing her in warning to not resist. "What do you think of us as a couple?"
Abigail's eyes changed to complete confusion. "Couple?"
"Yes, my dear. Miss O'Shea and I are expected guests of the mayor's this evening. In Saint Denis." When her expression turned doubtful, he added, "For the purpose of information gathering, of course."
She landed a hand on her hip. "You're telling me, you and Molly are goin' out on a job together?"
"That's it precisely, my dear."
"Since when does she volunteer for any work around here? Especially when it involves leavin' camp?"
Molly tensed up under his arm and her eyes flashed.
Josiah cut in smoothly once again, "I needed a lady who knows her way around a dinner party. I offered Miss O'Shea the role and she's proved capable of nailing it perfectly."
Abigail didn't look convinced. "If that's the case, take John with so at least there's one of you who knows how to handle a gun right."
Josiah pulled an appalled look. "That ruffian? No, no. He'd ruin the entire presentation."
Abigail had enough sense to know she couldn't argue with that. "Then take Arthur."
Molly muttered, "Arthur's busy with his own bloody mess."
"What's that mean?"
Molly crossed her arms. "Ask him yourself."
"Somethin' smells funny about all of this."
Josiah shook his head as if in remorse. "Ah, I fear that may be the fumes of these horrible swamps affecting your judgment, Miss Roberts."
Abigail scowled. "This job had better be worth the lip you're givin' me."
"It is, indeed."
"Well then..." With nothing else to say, she nodded reluctantly. "Be careful and come back safe, you two."
"But of course."
Abigail left them to their devices once again and Molly shrugged off his arm and faced him. "What'd you do all that for?"
He fiddled with his cuff. "Miss O'Shea, when you see a man's most staunch supporter fleeing in the middle of the day without regard for consequence, it is not without reason."
In fact, there was something rather unsettling about it. Now, Josiah hadn't lived and stayed in this type of business as long as he had to not trust his instinct on the matter. His gut had gotten him out of more than one scrape in his lifetime.
"I've got plenty o' reasons alright."
"And I expect you to explain them all along the way."
She paused and looked at him. "You...want to come with me?"
"You are a high bred lady in need of an escort and driver, are you not?" he asked and lifted his hands. "I promise, no funny business here. Only a man concerned for your safety."
She frowned, uncertainty flickering across her features. But Josiah had one foot in the door now, as the saying went. It was all he needed to persuade one into an agreement with him.
He continued, "Only to Saint Denis, mind you. I have some business there. Afterwards, whether by ship or train, I shall bid you adieu. If it's not too much of a nuisance."
Josiah had quite the payout from that poker job on the riverboat. Luckily, he hadn't touched that money yet. It would be enough to take Lydia and the boys and flee the area. At least for a few months. He'd frame it as...a vacation. Yes. Maybe they'd take that trip to New York he'd always wanted to make.
Josiah offered his hand. "Shall we, my dear?"
"Alright then," Molly finally decided, though he'd expected no less. She pointed at him. "But no magic tricks."
"As the lady wishes."
As much as Josiah liked doing jobs for the gang, he'd known for a long while Dutch was being targeted specifically. He'd warned them many times the eye of the law was closing in and that Blackwater incident had only drawn the spotlight right to Dutch.
Ah, well. It was fun while it lasted with these fellows. Now it was time to head for greener pastures. Perhaps he'd meet them again when they'd regained their stride once more.
