“I Just Need Food and a Place to Sleep,” He Said—Then He Saved Her Restaurant’s Busiest Night
Chapter 7
The next morning, Thomas prepared to leave.
Margaret found him saddling a borrowed horse.
“You’re leaving.”
“Yes.”
“Without saying goodbye?”
“I don’t want them finding you.”
She folded her arms.
“You think leaving protects me?”
“It gives them one less reason to stay.”
Margaret stepped closer.
“Who are they?”
Thomas remained silent.
“Thomas.”
He sighed.
“Three years ago, I worked for the Wentworth family.”
Margaret recognized the name.
The Wentworths were among the wealthiest families in Massachusetts.
Thomas continued.
“Their patriarch was involved in smuggling weapons and stolen goods.”
Margaret’s eyes widened.
“I discovered it.”
“And?”
“I kept records.”
“Why?”
“Because I knew one day they would kill me.”
He reached into his coat.
A small leather packet appeared.
Inside were letters.
Names.
Payments.
Secret agreements.
Margaret stared.
“These could ruin half the merchants in Boston.”
“Yes.”
“And Richard Bell?”
“His name is here.”
She looked up.
“He works for them.”
Thomas nodded.
“That is why he wants this building.”
“Why?”
“Your restaurant sits beside the old river road.”
Margaret frowned.
“So?”
“Goods can be moved through your cellar.”
She stared.
“My cellar?”
“There’s an old passage beneath it.”
Margaret’s heart raced.
Thomas led her downstairs.
They moved several wine barrels.
Behind them was a stone wall.
Thomas tapped it.
Hollow.
Margaret whispered,
“My father never mentioned this.”
“Perhaps he didn’t know.”
They removed several stones.
Behind the wall was a narrow passage.
It descended beneath the town.
Thomas lit a lantern.
The tunnel smelled of damp earth.
They followed it.
After several minutes, they reached a larger chamber.
There were crates.
Old barrels.
And fresh footprints.
Margaret covered her mouth.
“Someone is using this.”
Thomas nodded.
He opened one crate.
Weapons.
Another contained imported goods that had never been declared.
Margaret stared.
“This is why they want the restaurant.”
“Yes.”
“And Richard?”
“Isn’t the one in charge.”
A sound echoed behind them.
They turned.
A man stood at the tunnel entrance.
He held a pistol.
“Thomas Reed.”
Thomas stepped in front of Margaret.
The man smiled.
“You’ve been difficult to find.”
Thomas’s voice was cold.
“Who sent you?”
“Lord Wentworth.”
Margaret felt a chill.
“Lord Wentworth?”
The man laughed.
“He knows where the papers are.”
Thomas looked at Margaret.
Then at the tunnel.
The man raised his pistol.
“Give them to me.”
Thomas didn’t move.
The gun fired.
Thomas pushed Margaret aside.
The bullet struck the wall.
Thomas lunged.
The two men fought in the darkness.
Margaret grabbed the lantern.
The attacker knocked it from her hand.
Darkness swallowed the chamber.
She heard a struggle.
A grunt.
Then silence.
“Thomas?”
No answer.
She felt around the floor.
Her fingers found the pistol.
Then someone grabbed her wrist.
She screamed.
“It’s me.”
Thomas.
He was breathing heavily.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Good.”
They escaped through another tunnel entrance that opened near the river.
Thomas looked back.
“We can’t stay.”
Margaret shook her head.
“Where would I go?”
“With me.”
“Where?”
“Boston.”
She stared.
“That’s exactly where your enemies are.”
“Yes.”
“Then why?”
“Because the proof must be delivered to someone who can act.”
“Who?”
Thomas looked at her.
“The governor.”
Margaret understood.
This was no longer about a restaurant.
It was about a criminal network reaching through the town.
And somehow, she had become part of it.
Thomas mounted his horse.
Margaret climbed onto another.
Before they left, she looked back at the Bell & Hearth.
“I’m not abandoning my home.”
Thomas nodded.
“We’ll come back.”
She didn’t know whether he was promising her.
Or himself.
