For one instant. Alex misunderstood. She was confused, because the only ghost that had ever interested her was Blackwell’s, and he was no longer dead.
“Mr. Thornton,” Blackwell prompted.
Alex flushed. “He died while I was en route to visit him at Gibraltar.”
“So I have heard,” Blackwell said.
His tone was strange. Alex glanced up and was shocked by the intensity of his scrutiny. She had the awful feeling that he knew she lied.
“And which ship was it that you traveled upon?”
Alex tensed. “What does it matter?”
“I am merely curious.” Blackwell smiled. It did not reach his eyes. “Your husband was a British diplomat, was he not? However did the two of you meet?”
Alex hesitated. Blackwell was clearly not making pleasant social chitchat. She told him exactly what she had already told Jebal. “We met in New York City. He was a diplomat there. We were hardly wed when he was sent to Gibraltar. I remained behind to organize my affairs before joining him.”
“So you were traveling from New York to the Straits.”
“Yes.”
He waited.
Alex took a breath. “I believe she was called theEagle.”
“A passenger ship called theEagle,out of New York, bound for Gibraltar?”
“No, of course, she was a merchantman,” Alex said quickly. He was trying to trap her. There were no passenger ships plying the Mediterranean in the early nineteenth century. “She was a British merchantman,” Alex said. She could feel her cheeks burning.
She could also feel him regarding her intently—and then he smiled. As if he approved of her performance.
“Now what?” she said cautiously.
“I did not say a thing.”
Alex realized just how crushed she was feeling. “Blackwell, please, let’s not fight. You are the very last person in this universe whom I wish to battle with.”
“Then what is it you wish to do?”
An image of herself in his embrace flitted through her mind. “I want to help with the escape.”
“Help? Or hinder it?”
“Help.” She was firm, even though dismayed. “Let me tell you something. I know a little bit about naval warfare. I know that if you think to escape with your crew, you will need a viable plan, one involving a land or sea rescue operation.” His brows had lifted; he was wide-eyed. Alex plowed on, determined. “Tripoli is surrounded by water, and historically, no one survives overland escape attempts. Therefore the rescue will be from the sea. This worries me.”
“Really.”
“Yes! Are you aware that Commodore Morris is an idiot? And very inept as a commander?”
He stared at her as if she were growing horns.
“Whatever you and Neilsen are up to, you must factor in Morris’s indecisiveness. He is not a battle-seasoned veteran like yourself,” Alex said desperately.
“How have you come by all of this information?”
“I read about it,” she snapped.
“Good God,” was his reply.
