The Runaway's Gold by Emilie Burack

Brennan
, Mr. Marwick’s most prized vessel.”
    I looked up with surprise.
    â€œYou know her?” Mary asked.
    â€œI’ve seen her! Two years ago in Skeld. Then another time in the distance off the Cliffs of Culswick. Me brother, John, pointed her out.”
    â€œUncle stays with us when he comes to Lerwick. Brings us wonderful things—books, dresses, pictures—from his journeys.”
    â€œThe books in your parlor. I’ve never seen so many.”
    â€œYou mean to tell me you read?”
    Once again me face grew hot.
    â€œI was taken to understand crofters did not—”
    â€œWell, I do!” I said, abruptly cutting her off. “Whenever I can find a book, that is. And I write as well.” Then, fearing meself rude, I softened me tone. “Your uncle—he sails far?”
    â€œAye. Wherever Mr. Marwick sends him. The West Indies, Belfast, Perth, Boston, Cape Town, Bergen, Rotterdam. He’s been gone many months. This time with my brother, Charles, who’s sixteen. We expect them back any day now. When I heard the knock at the door I worried it was they.”
    â€œWorried?”
    She lowered her gaze. “I miss them terribly, especially Charles. But with the way things are with Mr. Marwick, I’m hoping they stay away . . . a bit longer.” She delicately wiped her mouth with a napkin. “Word is, if Mr. Marwick can’t get the loan in Scotland, his entire fleet—including the
Ernestine Brennan
—will be taken to cover his debt.”
    â€œSurely a man of Mr. Marwick’s stature won’t allow—”
    â€œPerhaps.” She bit off some bread and stopped to chew.
    â€œCan’t they signal him—turn him back to sea for a while until things get settled, so they won’t get close enough to seize the ship?”
    â€œAye. Though it wouldn’t be easy. The
Ernestine Brennan
is the most recognized ship in the harbor.”
    I raised me eyebrows. “Me Daa says she carries cargo to our end of the island from time to time.”
    Mary flashed a knowing smile. “Gin. Tobacco. Timber. No harm in the Revenue Men missing things on occasion, me uncle says.”
    When she refilled me bowl, I reached hungrily for me spoon, and then suddenly pulled back.
    â€œGo on. Don’t tell me a boy all skin and bones like yourself doesn’t want a second helping?”
    â€œBut your Midder. And the reverend. Surely we must save the rest for them?”
    â€œOh, you mustn’t worry about that,” she said with a wave of her hand. Then she pushed the bowl closer. “There’s plenty for us all.”
    â€œIt’s just,” I started, me fingers creeping slowly toward the spoon. “Well, Miss, I—I can’t remember a time when I was allowed.”
    â€œTo eat before the aged?”
    â€œNo.” I dropped me gaze. “To have a second helping.”
    She was quiet for a moment and shifted in her chair. “I see,” she said, then picked up her spoon and nodded for me to do the same. “You don’t need to call me ‘Miss.’ ‘Mary’ suits me just fine, don’t you think?”
    â€œAye,” I mumbled. A smile crept from me lips even as the roof of me mouth burned once again.
    â€œYou’re far from home.”
    â€œSearching for me brother, John.”
    â€œLost, is he?”
    â€œHoot, no.” I scraped the edges of the bowl with me spoon to get the last drippings of stew. “Ran from the croft last night in the storm.”
    â€œDidn’t he tell you where he was going?” Mary asked, dropping her elbows on the table and resting her chin in her hands. “How rude.”
    â€œI have a hunch he’ll be down at the docks.” I glared at the bowl, feeling her eyes on me as I spoke. “Has something that dunna belong to him. Something I intend to get back before—”
    The door flung open and Reverend Sill