Jamie’s arms went up as he pulled the talisman off over his head. Unlike Reeve’s, which hung on a chain of real gold, Jamie’s was affixed to a string of leather. He handed it to Maggie in silence, apparently choosing to ignore her question.

She studied the writing on the coinlike piece carefully in the flickering lamplight. It said BLESSED IS HE WHO CONSIDERETH THE POOR. ST. PATRICK’S PARISH, DUBLIN.

“With that,” Jamie said in a faraway voice totally devoid of the brogue, “a man could beg for his daily bread without being arrested.”

“Beg?” Maggie couldn’t imagine Reeve begging for anything, ever. “You were beggars?”

Jamie shook his head. “It didn’t come to that. I was transported for pinching a gentleman’s watch, and Reeve came out here as a cabin boy on a whaler.”

“It’s odd that you’d wear something like this,” Maggie observed, frowning. “But I’ve never seen Reeve without his.”

Jamie sighed. “He’s a rich man now, Reeve is. I imagine the beggar’s badge reminds him of leaner days and makes him thankful for all he’s got. Now, lie down and get some sleep, Maggie-girl. I promise I won’t lay a hand on you.”

Maggie would never have believed that had it come from Reeve, but from Jamie it had a ring of truth. She wriggled over close to the wall and lay down with her shoes still on and her dress, torn and dirty now, twinkling in the lamplight. “Very well. I just hope you’re a man of your word.”

Jamie chuckled and stretched out on the bed beside Maggie with a sigh, leaving the lamp to burn.

A dreadful thought struck Maggie, and she bolted upright. “What were you transported for again?” she demanded.

“Picking a gentleman’s pocket, love.”

Maggie lay back down. “Oh. Did you pick a great many pockets, Jamie McKenna?”

He smiled and cupped his hands behind his head. “As many as I could get my fingers into, miss. But never you fear, I’ve reformed now. I’ve got sheep and a property of my own.”

“Where?”

Jamie got up from the squeaky, lumpy bed to put out the lamp, and in the moments before he reached it, Maggie saw the long scars that crisscrossed his back. At some point Jamie McKenna had been savagely whipped. “You don’t really think I’m going to tell you that, do you, and have you running to my brother with the news?”

Maggie sighed. “He loves you,” she said into the darkness.

She felt Jamie’s weight on the mattress beside her. “Aye,” he said in a tone that indicated no emotion at all, and before Maggie could formulate another question, he was snoring.

Chapter 14

THERE WAS A SPLINTERY CRASH.