After a surreptitious glance at Charlotte, Henning began to fix himself a plate of food. “Take my medical advice, laddie. We’ll have a better chance of doing that if we all have some sustenance and then get a few hours of sleep.”
“I agree, and it makes sense for everyone to stay here,” said McClellan. “The guest rooms off the north staircase are always kept ready for visitors. I’ll show you to your quarters when we’re done.”
Wrexford was surprised to realize he was ravenous and joined the others in partaking of the cold beef, cheddar, and crusty bread that the maid had brought from the kitchen.
Simple but hearty fare, feeding the body, which in turn would help sustain the spirit.
He caught Charlotte watching him and gave her a private smile of encouragement.
“Eat something, my love,” Wrexford counseled, seeing that she was merely crumbling a bit of bread between her fingers. “And then let me take you up to bed.”
“Sleep would be ambrosial,” she admitted. “Though I fear what nightmares may come to haunt me.”
“I will stand watch over you and keep them at bay,” he said, touching her cheek.
She covered his hand with hers.
“Oiy, oiy!” Raven broke free from the shadows of the corridor and skidded to a halt just inside the doorway, the other three boys right behind him.
“You had better not be here to beg for ginger biscuits,” began McClellan, as she wagged a warning finger.
“To the devil with biscuits!” sputtered Raven, fighting to catch his breath. “You need to hear what Osprey just told us!”
Wrexford rose from his chair. “Come in, lad,” he said, gesturing for Horatio to step into the aureole of light cast by the Argand lamp on his desktop.
Squaring his shoulders, the boy obeyed and snapped a military salute as he came to attention.
“At ease,” said Wrexford, “and let us hear what you have to say.”
Raven couldn’t contain his excitement. “He may know where the villains are holding Aunt Alison!”
An instant of silence followed the announcement, and then everyone began asking questions.
“Quiet!” bellowed the earl. “Let the lad speak!”
To his credit, Horatio appeared unrattled, and Wrexford was suddenly reminded that despite his tender years, the boy was an officer in the Royal Navy and used to commanding tough-as-nails sailors.
“Please, go on.”
“Yes, sir,” replied the boy. “As I told the Weasels and Peregrine, I happened to overhear some private conversations that made me fear Colonel Jarvis was up to no good. However, as I had no proof, I didn’t dare approach any of my superiors and confide my suspicions.” He made a face. “He’s the commanding officer of security, and I’m a lowly midshipman.”
“That’s understandable,” responded Wrexford. “So . . .”
“So I decided to keep a careful watch on his activities and see if I might gather more evidence. I noticed that he occasionally took one of the rowing skiffs and crossed the river to Isle of Dogs, which lies just opposite the King’s Dockyard. One early morning, when the fog was swirling enough to provide cover, I decided to follow him.”
Isle of Dogs was one of the places suggested by Kurlansky, thought the earl as Horatio drew a deep breath.
“You see, I had watched him on several previous sojourns through my spyglass and knew what footpath he took. It was, perhaps, ungentlemanly of me to do so. But I told myself that if he was betraying his oath to our country, then it was my duty to learn the truth.”
Charlotte had inched to the edge of her seat. “Quite right. And did you . . .” She swallowed hard. “Did you—”
“Did I see where Colonel Jarvis went?” finished Horatio. “Yes, milady, I did.”
He looked back to the earl. “The colonel tied up his skiff east of the Ferry House and took a footpath that skirts along the tall reed beds that grow along the shoreline. There is an old, isolated brick warehouse near the water that looks to have been abandoned years ago. The colonel entered it—I saw with my spyglass that he had a key, so it seemed to me that he used it regularly. I didn’t dare get too close, but I made up my mind that I would return at some point when I knew Jarvis had other duties and see what was inside.”
A sound rumbled in Sheffield’s throat.
“Don’t rush the lad,” said Wrexford, mentally saluting Horatio for being so observant.
