She darted a glance at Kieran, sitting behind and to her right.
All will be well,his eyes said.I am here.
She bit her lip and looked back to the Judge Admiral and Mr. Patterson.
Mr. Patterson produced a Bible and had Eilidh, Cuthie, and Massey each swear upon it, pledging their eternal souls to tell the truth, as far as they knew it.
Cuthie smirked at Eilidh as he recited his oath, voice gravel-edged and vaguely mocking.
The Judge Admiral clasped his hands on the tabletop. “My goal with this inquiry today is to ascertain what truly happened during those final moments beforeThe Minervasank, taking her crew to an early grave. Before we begin, I’d like to ask Miss Fyffe—”
“Mrs. MacTavish,” she interrupted.
The Judge Admiral’s eyebrows ticked upward. He glanced toward Kieran, but he otherwise did not falter.
“Mrs. MacTavish, forgive me. I should like to begin with yourself, as you are the accused in this matter. Mr. Patterson informs me that you remember nothing of the events leading up to the sinking ofThe Minerva. Is that still the case?”
Eilidh took in a long breath and looked at Kieran. He nodded in encouragement.
“I haven’t remembered anything specific to the sinking of the ship.” That was truth. “I have remembered the stabbing murder of the carpenter, Mr. Chen.”
“Ah,” the Judge Admiral sifted through some papers.
Mr. Patterson handed him a sheet of foolscap, tapping a paragraph inked there.
The Judge Admiral examined it with the help of a quizzing glass.
“Captain Cuthie mentioned this in our previous conversation.” He lifted his head. “Would you care to shed some light on this, Captain Cuthie?”
Cuthie snorted. “I had a woman aboard my ship, Your Worship—”
“Please address me as ‘my lord,’ Cuthie. I am not a mere magistrate,” the Judge Admiral interrupted. “Continue.” He flicked his wrist.
A splotchy blush crawled up Cuthie’s cheeks. “As I was saying,my lord, once the crew knew a woman was aboard, the situation devolved into mayhem. As a naval man yourself, surely ye understand that sailors can be savage beasts after months at sea—”
“And had you been months at sea at this point?” the Judge Admiral asked, glancing again at the papers before him.
Cuthie paused. “We were nearly three months out from Sydney, my lord.”
“That isn’t the question I asked. How long since you had been on land, Captain?”
Cuthie gritted his teeth. “About a week, my lord.”
The Judge Admiral noted something in a large book. “Please continue, Captain.”
Cuthie cleared his throat. “Jamie—that’s what Mrs. MacTavish called herself—was difficult to control aboard ship. She worked the sailors into a bit of a lather with her womanly ways—”
“You were allowing her to interact with the crew at that point then?”
“Ehr, well—”
“I remember being bound,” Eilidh offered. “I think I was held captive in the brig.”
“Ye were,” Cuthie sneered, “but the sailors broke ye out of the brig, intent on having their way with yourself.”
“Aye,” Massey chimed in. “Figured if ye wanted to act the whore, they were happy tae oblige—”
“What did ye just call my wife?” Kieran said, voice menacing and low behind her.
