“It’s none of their business who’s dead or alive!”
A familiar tension crept up Eli’s back. Must they squabble in front of company? In spite of himself, he’d hoped that something might have changed in his absence. That they might have been forced to come together without him there to keep the peace.
“All the same, sir, I’d prefer not to leave any room for doubt.” Eli focused on his father, usually the more recalcitrant of the two. “When everyone thinks you’re dead, it’s deucedly hard to get theater tickets.”
He succeeded in shocking a breathy chuckle from his mother, almost against her will.Be serious, please,her eyes scolded him.
But she’d forgotten her quarrel, which was all that mattered.
“More importantly, Mr. Williams, it could cause confusion when your son wishes to marry or should there be a dispute in the estate,” the solicitor added. “His death was reported by the ship’s captain, leaving a record we must correct.”
“Thank you, Mr. Filby,” Eli said, grateful for the support. “I want to get this all sorted out quickly so I can resume my life.”
He’d lost enough time.
His father grunted his assent, still muttering to himself about privacy and meddling bureaucrats as Mr. Filby continued. “It might help if you could gather up several written statements from your friends and family, to attest that you’re undead—”
“Undead?” Eli echoed. That really was too much, even for him. “I’m not Frankenstein’s monster.”
“Oh no.” Mr. Filby looked up in surprise. “I didn’t mean to offend. I should’ve saidnotdead. Now that you’re not dead—”
“Might we simply say‘living’?” Honestly, everyone was behaving as though his return to England was some sort of supernatural event instead of an unfortunate mix-up. Townspeople who’d known him since he was a boy now whispered and stared. It had been amusing enough at first, but lost its novelty when old Mrs. Adams crossed herself as he’d passed.
“Well, yes, buteveryoneis living, Lieutenant Williams,” Mr. Filby explained. “You’re quite another matter. Legally dead, though factually alive. Shall we say quasi-deceased? Oh, I have it!Pseudomortuus. Latin always comes through in a pinch, doesn’t it?”
He paused to flip open a leather-bound notebook and jot the word down, his pencil skipping excitedly across the page.
“It makes me sound like an exotic species in a botany text,” Eli said. “Is that the impression we wish to make with the General Register Office?”
“A little Latin can never hurt,” Filby replied, undeterred. “In anycase, let me handle the registrar. All you need to do is gather up some letters from those who might vouch for your good character and confirm your identity, and we’ll send everything off to Somerset House to explain how you survived. Speaking of which…howdidyou survive?”
“I was able to cling to some of the wreckage, and I washed ashore on a neighboring island, but I had no way to return to my crew.”
“And after that? Where have you been all this time?”
“Kidnapped by Greek pirates.”
“Pirates? Goodness.” This pronouncement caused Mr. Filby to blink owlishly, though he seemed less impressed than he had been by the coining of a new term in Latin.
“Yes.”
“Well.” Mr. Filby turned back to his notes and continued to scribble at a more leisurely pace. “Kidnapped…by…pirates. How did you ever make it back?”
“Eventually they came to harbor near Corinth and I managed to escape, and from there found passage back to England on a merchant vessel.” It was nearly the truth. As much of it as he was going to share with the family’s solicitor, at any rate.
He’d made some mistakes these past two years, but he was no fool.
“Most fascinating. There is still the matter of your naval service. Since you’re not dead, and you were never discharged, you could be accused of desertion for the period you were missing. I cannot represent you if they bring a court-martial, you understand.”
“A court-martial?” Mrs. Williams’s voice took on a shrill edge. “But he wasdead.”
“I wasn’t dead, Mother.” A trace of his fatigue snuck into his voice before he could catch it.Don’t be selfish. After all the grief he’d caused them, the least he could do was keep his chin up.
“Yes, yes,pseudo-whatever it was,” she continued. “Surely a man can’t be expected to report for duty while he’s presumed deadandcaptured by pirates.”
“I would think the latter impediment is the most likely to convince the court-martial,” Mr. Filby observed sagely.
“I wish you would stop saying those words. Really, no one would court-martial our boy. He’s a hero.”
