He jumped and put his finger to his lips while he pulled his cabin door shut. “My—er—dear wife has fallen asleep, and I don’t want to wake her.”
“Then perhaps I should not play.”
“No, no! Please do, for it is that which helped her drop off. Perhaps it will lull her to stay asleep.”
Caroline resumed with a small laugh. “A high compliment. Do you make an escape while she rests?”
He grinned. “Indeed, I do! Devilish flat on ship isn’t it? I could use a good card game, but she won’t have it. Now, where have the gents got to? Surely one of them will take pity on me.”
“I believe Captain Wentworth is giving Richard and Mr. Belvedere a lesson in navigation, using the chronometer to determine our longitude.”
He made a face.
“Perhaps you can entice Mr. Belvedere away.”
“I daresay I might. Thank you!”
Caroline continued to play, apparently as the Orpheus to Lady Marston’s Cerberus.
At supper,over pork loin and fried potatoes and preserved carrots and onions, Captain Smythe had more to say of the incident. No one wished to call ittheft,for that made it sound far more serious, and of course, no one could be certain anything had been taken.
“And it’s my hope,” Captain Smythe continued, “that no onedidtake anything. For I have now learnt that Donny—the ship’s boy, y’know, just a lad of fifteen—says as how he got woken up by Gregory cackling and cawing. Gregory is his parrot, y’see. The others heard the sudden ruckus, but they ignored it because it isn’t their trouble, is it? Donny got up to quiet him and heard a door slam. He thinks now as maybe he interrupted someone.”
“That would make sense,” Richard said. “It does seem strange that they should’ve left the bags in disarray, when they might’ve cinched and buckled them back up with no one the wiser.”
“Did Donny go all the way to the cargo hold?” asked Caroline, who liked to have all the information.
“No, ma’am. He says he got a sip from his tankard and fished around for the dried orange peel he keeps for the bird. He knocked over Jameson’s tin cup for his trouble, which clattered all the way to the door.”
“And he didn’t investigate the sound of someone leaving the hold in a hurry?”
“He’s superstitious—Irish blood, y’know. You can’t blame him too heartily, for his father died of fear on being confronted by a ghost. So, Donny dived back into his hammock, but once he knew that someone had been digging through the mail, he told me it all.”
“Very curious,” Richard said. “Could you spare a man to guard the hold at night? Strange as it is, someone could try again…”
“I’m ahead of you there, Colonel, never fear. I’ve added it to the watch list. The men aren’t too happy, for it cuts into their sleep, but they knows better than anyone that it’s all our jobs on the line. If this is not solved, the Mail Service will sweep the lot of us right out. Barton would get the ship—” Smythe’s gray eyes filled with tears, but he choked it back, “and all my men would be let go without pension or a dime of profit from this trip. They’d never get work on a packet ship again. Probably be pressed within a week.”
“We will do everything we can to help,” Captain Wentworth said. “I would hate to see a good man like yourself ruined in a business like this.”
“Thank you, sir.” Smythe glared at Mr. Belvedere. “I wish to get to the bottom of it as soon as possible.”
Mr. Belvedere dropped his fork to raise his hands. “As do I! If anyone sees me withinspitting distance—er, excuse me for the cant metaphor—withinames aceof the mail bags, you may clap me in irons that moment. I’ve no designs on it; I shall protect its virtue as if it were my own sister.”
“Haveyou a sister?” Lady Marston asked skeptically.
“Not that I’m aware of,” he said cheerfully, “four brothers and no sister, but one never really knows, do they?”
“That is certainly the truth.” Sir Mark laughed between finishing his last fried potatoes with gusto, sopping up the remaining sauce from the pork loin.
Caroline happened to glance at Mrs. Scott just then and saw that lady’s cheeks redden. Ahh… Perhaps the stories about Sir Mark’s illegitimate children were true. Perhaps Mrs. Scott wasoneof them. That would explain her status as a companion, yet one that Lady Marston did not seem particularly happy to have. Lady Marston certainly required very little of Mrs. Scott’s time, which was odd. A companion on a trip like this would usually be the amusement and support of the lady of the house.
Caroline looked away to spare Mrs. Scott any further notice. To be the daughter of a peer on the wrong side of the bed was a most unfortunate thing, especially for a woman. Mrs. Scott had obviously been educated and reared in somewhat refined circles, so if it was so, Sir Mark had recognizedsomeobligation. Although, recalling some of Mrs. Scott’s comments, perhaps she was not reared inveryrefined circles.
Caroline shared her suspicion with Anne, when they took another moonlit walk—the habit was growing on them all—and Anne was thoughtful. “It could very well be.”
“It is a shame,” Caroline said, “for I enjoy her company despite her occasional inappropriate comments. And there are so few fellow travelers already.”
“I do not think that needs to change. She may be illegitimate, but she is not a servant. Some distance must be maintained with servants, I admit, for the comfort of all—but I do not think this is in the same case. Poor woman. How I pity her!”
