When nothing had happened by lunchtime, Raphael was tempted to throw Tristan overboard himself just to reduce the anxiety.
‘I don’t see why we can’t just lock the varmint in the deuced hold and be done with it,’ Reverend Shackleford grumbled, helping himself to some cheese and biscuits as they sat down for lunch. ‘Why do we have to wait for him to try and shove Tristan overboard first?’
Raphael gritted his teeth. ‘If we simply lock the blackguard up, we’ll have nothing to bargain with, and we need to find out exactly what he knows.’
‘Could there be another traitor onboard?’ Henrietta asked, her voice carefully detached. ‘I mean one we’re not aware of?’ She stared at Raphael as she spoke, willing him to say something,anythingto set her mind at rest. She had spent the entire morning agonising over what she’d seen the night before. Despite her vow to trust Raphael, she’d been unable to rid herself of the image of him exchanging banter with the sailor. The easy casualness that indicated so clearly that the two knew each other.
But instead of offering any reassurance, the Frenchman remained silent - but more than that, he didn’t even look at her. Henri felt a huge lump form in her throat, as her certainty of the night before abruptly dissolved.
Roan looked at his daughter with a frown. ‘Well, since the crew numbers less than twenty-five in total, I think it unlikely. Do you have a particular reason for asking?’
Henrietta fought the urge to cry as everyone turned towards her.
‘Is there something you’re not telling us, Henri?’ Roan asked, his tone short.
Henrietta turned to her father. ‘I saw a man wearingFortune’scolours skulking in the garden at home…’ She paused and looked back at Raphael before adding in a whisper, ‘The same man I saw Mr Raphael Augustin speaking with last night on the foredeck.’
All eyes turned to the King’s agent, the silence thunderous.
Raphael remained perfectly calm, though Henri wanted to cry at the regret she read in his eyes.
‘The man in question works for me,’ he said quietly. ‘He has been aboard theFaith and Fortunesince just after Blackmore.’
‘You placed a man onmyship without informing me?’ Roan’s voice was low and furious.
Raphael stared back at him impassively. ‘You admitted to having saved Tristan’s life at the same time as rescuing a French insurrectionist from prison. In truth, I found your story hard to swallow and needed confirmation that it wasn’t a complete Banbury story.’ He hesitated and spread his hands. ‘After Miss Carew overheard Fontaine’s men speaking in the Poulton’s Hotel, I thought it best to leave him in place.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me the truth once we suspectedFortunehad a turncoat on board?’ Roan shot back.
There was a short silence, then Raphael sighed. ‘Because I didn’t know what Jacob would find. What if the man secretly working for Fontaine turned out to be someone you’ve known for years? You are too close, Roan. You said it yourself, many of these men have been with you since they were boys.’
Roan gritted his teeth. He knew what the Frenchman stated was true.
‘What was he doing in the gardens?’ Henrietta asked suddenly, her voice hoarse.
‘He was waiting for me,’ Rafe responded calmly.
Henrietta eyed him narrowly, anger beginning to overtake the hurt. ‘Well, clearly I wasn’tastuteenough to recognise that,’ she retorted, her voice carrying a wealth of meaning meant for Raphael alone. Then, biting her lip, she looked down at her untouched food, but not before she saw something in the Frenchman’s eyes. Something more than just regret. Lifting her napkin from her lap, she replaced it on the table and got to her feet. ‘I think I shall leave you to your deliberations,’ she said to her father. ‘I have nothing more to add and would very much like some air.’
‘Do you feel unwell, darling?’ Faith asked, looking over at her daughter in concern.
Henrietta shook her head, desperate now to leave the claustrophobic cabin. ‘I’m just not very hungry. I promise not to do anything foolish,’ she added, sensing an impending warning before it was uttered.
‘Would you like me to accompany you?’ Roseanna asked, putting down her own napkin. Looking over at her cousin, seated next to Tristan, Henrietta felt her throat tighten. Despite all the fear anduncertainty, their happiness, theircloseness, was unmistakable. She shook her head, knowing she needed to get out before she made a complete fool of herself.
‘I’ll come with you, lass.’ Henri looked over at her grandfather in surprise as he pushed back his chair. ‘You coming, Percy?’ he added, looking over at his curate.
‘An’ me,’ Finn interrupted, stuffing the rest of his cheese hurriedly into his mouth and putting another couple of lumps into his pocket for later.
‘Well, dinnae jus’ blether aboot it, gaun jus’ bugger aff with ye,’ Dougal chimed in irritably, waving his hand towards the door. Plainly the Scot’s earlier notion of self-sacrifice had run its course, and he was back to simply relishing the conflict. ‘Bloody Sassenachs,’ he muttered, helping himself to another hunk of bread.
Knowing the futility of arguing with her grandfather, Henrietta simply nodded her head and all but bolted for the door, Finn already at her heels with Flossy tucked under his arm.
Regretfully, Percy put down his knife. While conflict at the dinner table generally gave him indigestion, it was difficult to turn his back on a nice, ripe Stilton.
‘Get a move on, Percy,’ Reverend Shackleford grumbled from the door. ‘God only knows what mischief Finn is up to with nobody on the other end of his tether.’ The last was said in jest, but it had the desired effect. Seconds later, the door closed behind them.
For a few seconds, no one spoke. The three women at the table, recognising Henrietta’s distress, instinctively looked towards its cause. Aware of their scrutiny, Raphael’s lips tightened, but he refused to be drawn.