Читать книгу Lord Of The Privateers - Stephanie Laurens - Страница 10
ОглавлениеThe carriage slowed and drew up outside a town house in a typical Mayfair street. Royd glanced out. He didn’t have to check the house’s number—the door stood open, and as he looked, Robert and Declan appeared in the doorway.
They hadn’t known he was on his way; he had to wonder what had brought them to the door—with, he noted, papers in their hands. He glimpsed Edwina beside Declan, and a lady with hair of a brassy shade that suggested she was a Hopkins peering over Robert’s shoulder. “It appears we’ve arrived at an opportune moment. For some reason, we have a reception committee.” He leaned forward, opened the carriage door, and stepped down to the pavement.
He looked up at his brothers and their ladies for a second, then turned to the carriage and gave Isobel his hand. She put her fingers in his—such a simple, mundane thing, yet he felt possessiveness surge as he closed his hand about her slender digits and assisted her down the carriage steps.
Once on the pavement, she straightened. With her hand still in his, she, too, looked up at the group filling the doorway. Then she smoothly drew her hand from his and turned to look up at the postboy and direct him to hand down her bandbox.
By the time the postboy had retrieved the box, three footmen had emerged from the house. Isobel consigned the box into the hands of the youngest, along with Royd’s traveling bag. Leaving the two older, burlier footmen to wrestle with her trunk, she turned to Royd, just as, having paid off the coachman and postboy, he turned to her.
He met her eyes, offered his arm, and quirked a brow. “Shall we?”
Shall we operate as a couple? Shall we try it again and remind ourselves what it feels like?
She looked into his gray eyes and read the challenge therein. Given that they would pursue his mission together—given the decision they would face when the mission was over and they returned to Aberdeen—seizing the opportunity to see how well they managed in this more social sphere was arguably wise. She arched a brow back, then, sternly suppressing her leaping senses, calmly laid her hand on his arm.
Side by side, they faced his family, then she raised her skirts, and they climbed the steps to the narrow front porch.
Swiftly, she surveyed the “reception committee”; she maintained a serenely assured expression, but inside, she couldn’t help but grin. While Declan and Robert were glad to see Royd, they were uncertain how to interpret her presence. They’d been at sea for most of her and Royd’s handfasting; she had no idea what they thought was the reason for the failure of the relationship. As they, of all people, knew, Royd rarely failed at anything. Yet knowing him, she sincerely doubted he’d explained anything at all about her; in the few seconds it took to reach the porch, she decided to assume that Robert and Declan knew nothing beyond the bald facts.
In stark contrast to the wariness evident in the men, the fairylike blond beauty peering around Declan and the brassy-haired lady by Robert’s side appeared intrigued and keen to make her acquaintance.
“Royd.” Declan held out a hand.
Royd smiled, and the brothers clasped hands and buffeted each other’s shoulders.
“Robert.” Royd and Robert repeated the process.
Isobel struggled to suppress a grin; both Lady Edwina and Miss Hopkins were all but jigging with impatience—not to meet Royd but to be introduced to her.
Declan turned to her. “Isobel.”
She smiled and held out a hand. “Declan. It’s good to see you again.”
He bowed over her fingers, then turned to his wife. “My dear, this is Isobel Carmichael, of the Carmichael Shipyards in Aberdeen. Isobel—my wife, Lady Edwina.”
Lady Edwina’s cornflower-blue eyes widened fractionally as she made the connection; she would have heard of the shipyards when she’d visited Aberdeen. She beamed and held out her hand. “Miss Carmichael. Welcome to London and to our home.”
Isobel clasped Edwina’s fingers and returned her smile. “Lady Edwina—it’s a pleasure to meet you. And please, call me Isobel. I understand we’re throwing ourselves on your hospitality, at least until Royd learns what Caleb has found and receives his orders.”
Declan blinked, then he turned to Royd and Robert, who were exchanging news.
Edwina brightened even more. Rather than release Isobel, she tugged her forward. “Do come in—you must meet Aileen.” She glanced frowningly at the trio of males, but they’d moved sufficiently to allow Isobel to slip past.
She stepped into an elegant front hall.
The brassy-haired lady had fallen back and stood waiting to offer her hand. “I’m Aileen Hopkins. I met Robert in Freetown, and I returned to London with him on The Trident.”
Isobel clasped Aileen’s fingers. “I’m delighted to meet you, Miss Hopkins.”
“Aileen, please. It seems we all have an interest in what’s been happening in Freetown.” The statement was a poorly disguised question, a transparent invitation to share.
Apparently, neither Edwina nor Aileen was at all slow in observing and deducing. Isobel sobered. “Indeed. I’ll be traveling there with Royd in pursuit of one of my cousins. I understand both of you have been in the settlement, so I’m particularly keen to speak with you.” She glanced from Aileen’s hazel eyes to Edwina’s encouraging blue gaze. “I need to learn everything you can tell me about a Miss Katherine Fortescue.”
“Miss Fortescue!” Edwina’s expression grew concerned. She put a hand on Isobel’s arm. “I greatly fear, Isobel, that Miss Fortescue has been captured by slavers. Possibly taken to work in a mine.”
She compressed her lips and nodded. “Royd and I agree that her disappearance is very likely linked to his mission.”
Edwina and Aileen swung their gazes to the men, still standing on the porch.
Isobel looked, too; the three brothers were holding various papers and notes, shuffling, reading, and exclaiming.
“You’ve arrived at the perfect moment,” Edwina said. “Hornby—one of Caleb’s men—arrived not five minutes ago with that satchel Robert’s holding. It’s full of reports and maps.” Edwina met Isobel’s gaze. “It seems Caleb has found the mine and has remained to keep watch over the captives.”
“He might have sent a list of said captives.” Aileen narrowed her eyes on the three men. “But we haven’t had a chance to see.”
Edwina exchanged a steely glance with Aileen, then looked at Isobel. “Do you need to go up and refresh yourself and rest or...?” She gestured toward the men.
Isobel met Edwina’s eyes. “I’m not the wilting sort. Let’s get those papers and see what Caleb’s sent.”
Edwina nodded once. Her chin firming, she bustled forward. Aileen followed in support.
Isobel nodded to the butler, who was supervising the footmen as they ferried her and Royd’s luggage inside. She removed her hat, laid it on a side table, and pulled off her gloves. By the grace of God, she’d fallen in with like-minded women. Edwina might be a slip of a thing, a petite, delicate-looking, golden-haired damsel with bright-blue eyes, but she possessed a great deal of energy and—for Isobel’s money—a spine of steel. Like recognized like, and Aileen Hopkins seemed of similar disposition. Isobel watched with approval as, with a ruthless efficiency the Frobisher brothers had no hope of resisting, Edwina and Aileen herded the three off the porch, into the hall, and into a cozy drawing room.
Tucking her gloves into her skirt pocket, Isobel joined the women as, bringing up the rear, they swept into the room. Edwina paused on the threshold to instruct the butler—Humphrey—to prepare rooms for Isobel and Royd. Isobel grasped the moment as they arranged themselves on sofas and chairs to exchange greetings with Robert—like Declan, he viewed her with wary trepidation, but cloaked it better—then she sank onto a sofa beside Aileen.
Royd claimed the armchair to her left. Edwina made a spirited bid to commandeer the satchel, but in that, she didn’t succeed. Royd had taken possession and stared her down. Then he leaned forward and spread the satchel’s contents on the low table between the twin sofas. “There’s no sense attempting to discuss anything while each of us knows only bits of the whole. I suggest we each take a portion of these documents, read and assimilate, then pass what we have to the right. Once we’ve all absorbed what’s been sent, we’ll see what we can make of the current situation.”
No one argued. Royd divided the papers into six roughly equal piles, distributed them, and they settled to read.
Silence descended, broken by the rustling of papers and the occasional “humph.” Accustomed to reading screeds of reports, Isobel reached the end of her pile first. She sat and let all she’d learned settle in her mind—like a jigsaw for which she was still missing too many pieces to even guess the shapes. Robert raised his head and tidied the stack of papers on his knee. Like her, he said nothing; from the slight frown on his face, she suspected he was adjusting some view he’d previously held.
Aileen was the last to finish her documents—which included Robert’s journal. She humphed and passed her pile to Robert. They all handed on what they’d read, received the next batch from the person on their left, and settled to read again.
By the time each of them had read all the documents, the afternoon was well advanced. Edwina rang for tea, and Humphrey and a footman brought in trays loaded with two teapots, cups, saucers, and plates, and a selection of cakes, including a heavy fruitcake sufficient to satisfy manly appetites.
Royd waited until the ladies had sipped and nibbled, and he and his brothers had demolished the fruitcake—and their minds had had at least that much time to absorb all they’d just taken in—before, with the documents once again piled on the satchel before him, he said, “We should summarize what we’ve learned to this point, revised in light of what Caleb has sent.”
His brothers nodded. The ladies directed alert gazes his way, but didn’t speak.
Good.
He set down his teacup. “We now know that three instigators—for want of a better label—living in Freetown devised the scheme. Somehow they learned of a deposit of diamonds deep in the jungle. It doesn’t matter how they learned of it, only that they did. Consequently, they set up a mine to operate in secret—presumably to avoid all fees and excise and any government intervention. Also so they could use slave labor, thus increasing their profits.”
“That much seems clear,” Robert said. “We know that Muldoon, the naval attaché, and a man named Winter, who has access to mining equipment and supplies, are two of the three instigators.”
“And the third,” Declan stated, an edge to his tone, “is someone on the governor’s staff, but as yet, we don’t have a name.”
Royd nodded. “Initially, Lady Holbrook was a player in the scheme—whether by choice or under duress is immaterial as she’s taken herself out of the picture.”
“Just as well,” Edwina muttered direfully.
“In order to establish the mine,” Royd continued, “the instigators needed capital, so they contacted people willing to finance illicit ventures. The captives call that group ‘the backers,’ and there are several of them—how many we don’t yet know. The backers are most likely in England, and they are the ultimate perpetrators, as it’s unlikely the scheme would have come to anything without their support.”
He paused, then went on, “Dreaming up villainous schemes is not a crime. Putting them into action is, and enabling such an action is equally a crime—arguably a greater one. As the backers are presumably wealthy men well able to finance such a scheme, it’s likely the bulk of the profits is flowing to them—which is raising the ire of the government, for various pertinent reasons.”
Robert made a derisive sound. “The government had to make all sorts of reparations after the Black Cobra incident last year. In the aftermath, they made slews of rash promises, as governments are wont to do, assuming any repeat of a similar nature would be too far in the future to trouble them. Instead, they’re now facing a different but equally horrendous situation likely to stir the public to anger, scorn, and protest.” Robert met Royd’s eyes. “Given the current state of the government, given the dissatisfaction with the monarchy, they can’t risk another situation where the public sees them failing to act against perpetrators who are wealthy and influential.”
Royd nodded. “Judging by the tone of Wolverstone’s communications, the government is exceedingly keen to have this scheme dismantled, the captives restored to the bosoms of their families, and the villains—instigators and backers alike—brought to justice. I’ve a strong suspicion my orders will focus on that last item, but once there, I’ll be in charge and, as usual, we’ll do things my way.” After a moment, he went on, “Our priorities should be, first, to rescue the captives and get them to safety, second, to dismantle the scheme—we don’t want it starting up again later—and third, to gain evidence to convict the backers.”
Firm nods and murmurs of agreement came from the others.
“Aside from all else,” Declan put in, “said backers are almost certainly here and not there. The best evidence you’re likely to get will come from the three instigators, and we’ll be seizing them anyway. Once they’re shown the noose, I imagine they’ll be only too happy to implicate the backers.”
Robert grunted. “I can’t imagine there’ll be any honor among such vermin.”
Again, all agreed.
A moment’s silence followed, then Royd shifted in his chair. “Returning to the mechanics of what happened in the settlement, a local priest, Obo Undoto, was involved in helping a group of slavers identify adults from the European population with skills needed for the mine. As with Lady Holbrook, we don’t know whether Undoto was willing or acting under duress, and given Caleb’s success in eliminating the slavers entirely, at this point, we can ignore Undoto. By removing the slaver Kale and his men, Caleb has disrupted the supply of slaves to the mine and, from what Aileen had earlier learned, also the delivery of mining supplies. While those at the mine have alternative routes for delivery available, it will take time for them to realize they’ve lost Kale completely and put new procedures into place.” He paused, then added, “Having no immediate supply of new captives will increase the incentive to keep those they have in good health.”
“Which can’t hurt,” Aileen put in.
Royd nodded. “Viewed from all angles, Caleb’s action in eliminating Kale’s gang in the manner he did was inspired. As he himself wrote, not having to guard against the slavers supporting the mercenaries at the mine will be a significant advantage when it comes to seizing the compound.”
After a moment, he went on, “To return to how their system operated—Undoto identified the adults, and Kale and his men kidnapped them and transported them to the mine. Acting directly, the slavers lured children into becoming captives, too. Although a heartless and ruthless man, Kale treated his captives well, apparently under orders from the mercenary captain actively overseeing the mine.”
“The major cost in running the mine would be the mercenaries,” Robert said.
Royd considered the papers piled before him. “The mercenary captain is called Dubois. In taking the compound and freeing the captives, he will unquestionably be our biggest obstacle.”
Declan had tilted his head the better to study Royd’s face. “You’ve used the terms ‘we,’ ‘us,’ and ‘our’ several times. Does that mean you intend us”—with his gaze he included Robert—“and our crews to be actively involved in your leg of the mission?”
Royd met Declan’s gaze, then his lips curved. “Did you expect to remain here and enjoy”—he waved—“the social whirl?”
“Good God, no!” Declan looked appalled. “But I wasn’t sure if our ships would form a part of your plan or if we’d just be following, tagging along.”
Royd nodded at the documents before him. “Judging from the numbers Caleb has sent, even though my crew are unquestionably the most experienced in such exercises, I’m going to need far more men. Even more telling, we’ll need to go in simultaneously at two different locations—the mining compound and the settlement. I can’t see any way around a two-pronged approach. And while it’s helpful that Caleb recruited Lascelle on his way down there, if we’re to get the captives out safely, we’re going to need overwhelming numbers.”
His gaze on the papers, he went on, “Between them, Caleb and Lascelle have given us a detailed account of the threats, dangers, and obstacles we’ll face. Add in the reports from inside the compound—from Dixon and Hillsythe—and the need to ensure that, once we initiate an attack, the mercenaries cannot reach the captives is clearly paramount. Exactly how we’ll accomplish that is impossible to say, not without viewing the compound ourselves and assessing the possibilities, but one thing is clear—we’ll need significant numbers, more than Caleb’s, Lascelle’s, and my crews combined.”
Royd glanced at Robert and Declan, then waved the point aside. “We can discuss numbers and how we get them later. The first thing we need is the basic framework of a plan to successfully carry off this mission.”
Isobel’s gaze rested on his face. “You’ve already got a framework in mind. So tell us.”
She knew how his mind worked—that he was quick to process information and define the necessary steps to achieve his desired goal. He looked around the group, then told them the outline of his plan.
He wasn’t surprised by his brothers’ enthusiasm, but their ladies’ enthusiasm almost made him renege. Then he noticed Isobel regarding him with a certain light in her eye—as if she could read his thoughts—and he decided his brothers were transparently able to look out for their ladies themselves.
“How soon can we leave?” Isobel asked, and the others looked his way.
“As soon as possible, which means after getting my orders from Melville—he has to formally request my assistance and give me a letter of authority, which he won’t want to do.” Royd glanced at Robert and Declan. “It’s one thing to direct Decker to render all possible support—quite another to put the vice-admiral directly under my orders.”
Robert smiled cynically. “Melville will give you whatever you ask.”
Royd tipped his head. “As well as dealing with Melville—and Wolverstone, too—we need to sit down and work out those numbers. Most likely, I’ll need to call in some others, and that means at least a few days to learn who’s available, where they are, and get any new orders out to them.”
“Lachlan would be an obvious choice,” Declan volunteered.
“I checked before I left Aberdeen,” Royd said. “With luck, he should be sailing into Bristol any day.”
“Who else are you thinking of?” Robert asked. “Are you going to reach further than our own fleet or...?”
Royd grimaced. “The problem with reaching to others is that I can’t be sure of command. Lascelle and Caleb have worked together before, so I foresee no problems there. But with others, especially of the caliber we need? I’d rather stick with our own captains.”
“Kit?” Declan asked.
Royd pulled a reluctant face, but nodded. “For one particular aspect of this exercise, she and her crew are the best suited, so yes. I’m not sure she’ll reach Bristol in time to leave with Lachlan, but that won’t matter—she can follow and come in behind the rest of us.”
Isobel knew of whom they spoke; Kit Frobisher was an anomaly in the seafaring world—a female who commanded a ship and had for the past eight years. Isobel had met Kit several times on the Aberdeen docks and had always found her—and her rather startlingly direct way of dealing with the world—quite fascinating.
Edwina was staring at Isobel. “Have you met Kit?”
When Isobel nodded, Edwina glanced rather pointedly at the clock on the mantelpiece, then declared, “It’s nearly time to change for dinner. Aileen and I will take Isobel up and show her to her room.”
Edwina rose, bringing the three men to their feet, along with an eager Aileen. Perfectly willing, Isobel rose, too. It was time she learned more about the other two ladies. Regardless of what eventuated between her and Royd, these ladies were, or would shortly become, Frobishers, and therefore Duncan’s aunts-by-marriage.
Aside from any friendship she might strike up with ladies who, on the basis of just the past hours, seemed of similar bent, they might also be of additional support—even mutual support—whatever their future relationship became.
After waving Isobel and Aileen to precede her, Edwina stated, “Dinner will be at seven, gentlemen. Don’t be late.”
Royd watched Edwina sweep out of the room in Isobel and Aileen’s wake and resisted the urge to shake his head. Declan was never going to rule his roost, not with such a force of nature as his wife...
When it came to forces of nature, Isobel had all the others trumped, even her scarifying grandmother.
With that reflection sinking into his mind, he looked at his brothers and arched a brow. “We need to send word to Wolverstone and Melville that Caleb’s report has reached us. The sooner I can meet with Melville and get the orders I want from him, the sooner we’ll be able to get down there, join Caleb, and get those people out.”
Declan exchanged a glance with Robert, then waved to the door. “Come to the library—you can write your missive to Wolverstone there.”
Composing a note to Wolverstone, stressing the need for an immediate meeting and holding out the lure of information just received, was quickly done—Royd knew how to pique the ex-spymaster’s interest. Once the missive was dispatched via Declan’s senior footman, Royd leaned back in the chair behind the desk and waited for the inevitable interrogation.
It commenced the instant the door clicked shut.
Robert fixed Royd with a direct look. “What the devil is Isobel doing here?”
In his mildest tone, Royd replied, “She’s searching for one of her cousins—Katherine Fortescue.” Briefly, Royd outlined Katherine’s story as Isobel had related it to him. “When Isobel and Iona finally got word of Katherine’s disappearance, Isobel presumed on our past to ask that I take her to Freetown. I’d just received Wolverstone’s summons, so...” He waved. “Here we both are.”
Neither of his brothers knew quite what to make of that.
Eventually, Robert humphed. “A happy coincidence, then, that Caleb actually met Katherine, so he could report that he spoke with her and heard directly from her that she was well.” Robert grimaced. “As well as could be in such circumstances.”
Royd nodded. “Which, of course, means that Isobel knows where Katherine is.”
Declan stared at him—whether in horror or shock, Royd wasn’t sure. “You’re not going to take Isobel into the jungle with you? To the compound?”
Royd opened his eyes wide. “Do you think I could stop her? Or that I’m fool enough to waste time and effort trying? Now she knows her cousin’s in that compound, she’s going to be by my side every step of the way.” Because of Katherine, and for another reason entirely, but his brothers didn’t need to know about that. They’d be taken aback, but for Royd’s money, they should look to their own ladies before concerning themselves with Isobel.
He would lay odds that, at that very moment, the three women were exchanging confidences. And once the other two learned that Isobel would sail with him—and would go into the jungle to the mining compound, too—he seriously doubted Edwina and Aileen would settle for any more-restricted roles. From their reactions to his plan, he’d gathered they, too, were committed to the mission—that like his brothers, they felt a burning desire to see the captives released and justice done. Although he’d met Edwina before, those encounters had perforce been on a social stage. Now he’d learned of her contribution during Declan’s leg of the mission, he was leaning to the view that although Edwina and Isobel were very different women, they shared significant similarity under the skin.
And if he was any judge, Aileen Hopkins was another cut from the same cloth.
Which meant the last leg of this mission, run according to his plan, looked set to be exceedingly interesting for the three oldest Frobisher brothers. He wished Robert and Declan luck; he was going to have his hands full leading the mission and dealing with Isobel.
Neither Declan nor Robert had discovered any further comment they wished to make on the subject of Isobel. While Royd appreciated that a significant part of their concern was driven by a wish to support and—yes—protect him from a woman they believed had run roughshod over his heart, there was far more between him and her than his brothers knew. Than he wished them to know. The time for revelations—including Duncan—was not yet.
Declan stirred and threw him a puzzled look. “One thing—you don’t seem overly perturbed by Caleb filching the reins as he did.”
Royd shrugged. “Given he’d learned of the ongoing mission, I wouldn’t have expected him to do anything else. And for once, he seems to be behaving with the gravity due command.”
Robert snorted. “Taking on Kale and his men like that?”
“It was a bold move, but a highly strategic one.” It was almost certainly what Royd would have done had he been in Caleb’s place. “And judging by Lascelle’s comments, Caleb behaved with the right blend of caution and forcefulness. He covered every contingency and had everything in place before he went in.” Royd shrugged. “Our little brother is finally growing up.” His lips twitched. “Thank God.”
“Amen to that,” Declan murmured.
Robert still looked unconvinced.
But Royd had been waiting for just such a sign of evolving maturity in his youngest brother; he felt vindicated that his faith in Caleb was proving well founded. Aside from all else, he had a strong suspicion he was going to need a more mature Caleb in order to steer his own future in the direction he wanted.
Robert glanced at the clock. “Edwina said seven, didn’t she?”
It was just after six.
Declan sighed and rose. “We’d better get ourselves washed and brushed.”
It was an old saying from their childhood. Royd grinned, rose, and joined his brothers on the trek up the stairs.
* * *
The conversation over the dinner table was revealing. Seated at Edwina’s left with Royd beside her, Isobel ate, listened, and learned.
She wasn’t surprised by the assessing glances Robert and Declan directed her way when they thought she wasn’t looking. Both knew her temper—and Royd’s—well enough not to directly engage her on the point, but they were clearly wondering what was going on between her and Royd. She took a certain delight in pretending to be oblivious to their curiosity.
As she’d expected, she’d got on well with Edwina and Aileen. The pair had accompanied her to the room Edwina had assigned her. Declan and Edwina’s bedchamber lay to the left of the upstairs drawing room, which faced the head of the stairs. Aileen had mentioned that she and Robert had rooms along the corridor to the right of the stairs. The room to which Edwina had steered Isobel lay to the left of the stairs, had a lovely view over the rear garden, and, as Edwina informed her, was next door to the room she’d given Royd.
Isobel hadn’t reacted, but Edwina hadn’t appeared to expect her to. Her hostess had sat in the chair by the fireplace, Aileen had sat in the window seat, and while Isobel had prowled the room, checking to see where her things had been put, the pair had engaged in a quick-fire exchange, not about Isobel and Royd but about the mission, the likely weather, and the necessity of commencing their packing forthwith.
Isobel had found it impossible to keep a straight face. She had a strong suspicion that Robert’s and Declan’s views regarding their ladies’ involvement in the mission did not match that of said ladies. She knew whom she favored to win the upcoming arguments.
When Edwina had declared they would leave her to change and had pushed up out of the chair, Isobel had realized her hostess was pregnant; until that telltale move, the fall of Edwina’s gown had hidden the evidence.
“Five months,” Edwina had confirmed, with a smile the quality of which would have made her condition plain to the most undiscerning eye. “But I’m entirely well, and if I wasn’t ill on the way back from Freetown—and I wasn’t—then I doubt I will be on the way down again.” She’d nodded at Aileen. “And we think Aileen might be increasing, too, but she’s decided not to tell Robert yet.”
“I daresay he’ll want to wrap me in wool like some delicate porcelain, which I am most definitely not.” A militant gleam had shone in Aileen’s eyes. “No power on earth will keep me from getting to that compound and finding Will.”
Isobel had bitten her lip against the impulse to share that she’d largely ignored the supposed restrictions of pregnancy, too, at least until she’d grown too heavy to easily move; thankfully, Duncan had had the good sense to make an appearance two weeks later.
She had grown up in what was essentially a matriarchy; she was accustomed to having other women—cousins of all degrees and others Iona drew under her wing—about her all the time. She had many women she would class as friends, yet none had had the freedom to chart her own life that she had had, and that factor in many ways set her apart.
She wasn’t entirely sure how the freedom she enjoyed had come about; certainly, being the only child of James Carmichael had been a critical factor, but if she hadn’t seized the opportunities that status had afforded her and pushed—hadn’t been such a tomboy and scrambled all over the shipyards and fallen in with Royd Frobisher—she would never have attained the uniquely unfettered position she now held.
That was a point to ponder. Would taking up with Royd again change anything—anything critical to her work, to who she now was?
They’d reached the last course.
“Having experienced the climate in Freetown once, I must have a closer look at my wardrobe.” Edwina popped a grape into her mouth, chewed, and swallowed.
Isobel helped herself to several nuts, then passed the platter to Royd.
“I was glad of my half-boots when we were trekking through the jungle,” Aileen added. “And while bonnets or hats are to be recommended in the settlement—certainly if one is going anywhere on foot during the day—there’s really no need for them in the jungle. The trees block well-nigh all the light.” She glanced at Robert. “From Caleb’s and Lascelle’s descriptions, it seems the mining compound is in jungle of a similar type to Kale’s camp.”
Reluctantly, Robert agreed. After a moment, he shot a look at Declan, then said, “The jungle’s exceedingly oppressive. You really don’t have to venture into it. It’ll be much cooler waiting on board.”
“Oh no.” Aileen’s hazel eyes widened to a remarkable degree as she faced Robert. “I absolutely have to go to the compound. Quite aside from finding Will, I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t check on those five children—the four boys and that girl. We had to let them be taken for the greater good—that, I was forced to accept. But I won’t rest easy until I know they’re safe—and I see that they are with my own eyes. I have to be there when we get them out—you must see that.”
Robert pressed his lips tightly together, then dipped his head in a gesture that might be interpreted as agreement, and wisely declined to argue.
Having carried her point, Aileen happily returned her attention to peeling a fig.
Declan looked down the length of the table at his delicate, fairylike wife. He hesitated, but clearly felt forced to ask, “Am I to take it that you intend to march to the compound, too, despite...” With a nod, he indicated her expectant state.
Edwina grinned. “Yes, of course. I’m only increasing, you know—something women have done for millennia. Even Dr. Halliwell has said I may go about as I please—indeed, he quite recommends it.”
“I doubt he had the African jungle in mind,” Declan grumbled.
“Possibly not, but I’m accustomed to walking for miles at Ridgware, and even on the moors when we were in Aberdeen, so as long as I take care not to overexert myself, it will all be perfectly fine.” Edwina looked down the table and watched Declan’s jaw set. “Besides,” she continued, a note of steel sliding into her voice, “you wouldn’t want me to regret that I’m carrying your firstborn at this moment, would you?”
Royd swallowed the bark of laughter that nearly escaped him. There was absolutely no possible answer Declan could make, other than...
Declan shifted in his chair. “No, of course not.” He concentrated on peeling the pear on his plate.
Shortly after, in sunny good humor, Edwina rose, and the company adjourned to the drawing room. The room had a pleasant ambiance; Royd approved of his sister-in-law’s taste, which apparently ran to comfort rather than the latest fashion.
The women sat on one sofa and the nearby armchair. He claimed the armchair he’d previously occupied, leaving the other sofa for Robert and Declan. They sprawled, relaxed and at ease. Isobel asked Edwina if she had any social engagements planned over the next days, and from there, talk turned to more general topics.
Royd learned that, on their ultimate return from Africa, Robert planned to visit Aileen’s family in Scarborough. Royd asked about Aileen’s brothers, which led to a discussion of the situation in the Americas. Royd contributed to the debate, but for the most part, remained focused on Isobel. He listened to her opinions—which, of course, she had; she knew nearly as much about global shipping as he did. What he learned suggested that the past eight years, while not altering anything fundamental about either of them, had nevertheless expanded their knowledge and experience in ways the other might not yet appreciate.
That was a point he decided to bear in mind.
The ringing of the doorbell was, minutes later, followed by the entrance of the butler, Humphrey. He bore a silver salver on which resided a letter opener and a white envelope. Humphrey paused by Royd’s chair. “For you, Captain.”
Royd lifted the envelope, glanced at the writing, and straightened in the chair. “Wolverstone.” He picked up the letter knife, slit the envelope, then returned the knife to the salver. “Thank you, Humphrey.”
Humphrey bowed and departed.
From the envelope, Royd drew out a single sheet. He unfolded it and read.
“Well?” Robert asked.
“We have an appointment with Melville at Wolverstone House tomorrow afternoon at two o’clock. Apparently, that’s the earliest Melville can absent himself from the Admiralty.”
“Excellent!” Edwina looked at Isobel and Aileen. “That means we’ll have the morning free to further our own plans.”
Royd looked at Edwina, then at Isobel’s and Aileen’s faces—and deduced that the males of the party weren’t included in Edwina’s “our.”
Which suited him. He had arrangements of his own to make, and his brothers would have, too.
Against that, of course, lay the undeniable fact that the three women were fast connecting in a way that would forge them into a formidable supportive force; Royd knew all about the power that females in plural could bring to bear—witness Isobel’s grandmother and her largely female clan.
Yet when he considered what the outcome would likely be, it wasn’t concern he felt but an odd form of contentment. Anything that helped bind Isobel into his family was to be encouraged.
He sat back and smiled at Edwina. He was appreciating his sister-in-law more and more.
