by Nicole Byrd
“The earl wished to pay his respects to the men who died aboard the sunken ship. They were in his employ, you see,” she said, as if making conversation.
The maid was all agog. “Ooo, that’s very kind of ’im, to be sure, me lady,” she said, dabbing carefully at the glove. “I think this will lighten the spot.”
“Good work,” Lauryn said. “I should not have had it in my lap while I was drinking my tea.” Since she had deliberately spotted the glove—which like the riding habit itself was a loan from the earl—to have any excuse for this conversation, she was just as glad to see the spot lighten.
“Did the vicar help lay out the bodies before they were buried?” she asked now, trying to keep her tone casual.
The maid shuddered. “Oh, me lady. ’Aving been under the sea, there weren’t much left of the poor buggers, you know, only bits of bones.”
“Oh, dear.” Lauryn paused, not sure how to ask the next question. “It’s just that we heard, in town—”
“What? I’ll ’ave you know that the good vicar did all that was proper!” Her lips pressed together, the maid fired up at once in defense of her employer.
“Oh, I’m sure he did,” Lauryn said quickly. “It’s just—we heard a rumor about the captain’s wounds, and we wondered if the vicar perhaps could have gotten some idea how the captain had died.”
The maid’s eyes widened. “I s’ppose ’e drowned, me lady, ’ow could ’e not? Going down on a sinking ship like that, poor man. And any’ow, t’was only bones left that they brought back, ye know. But…”
She hesitated.
Lauryn tried to look sympathetic. “Yes?”
“Well…” She looked around as if expecting someone to be crouched behind the big kitchen table, listening. “If you want someone who saw the remains…”
“Oh, we do!”
“If it won’t get ’im in trouble, I might could tell ye who to speak to.”
“We will not—the earl will not be be censorious, I assure you!” Lauryn told her.
“Then, if you’re assured…” The maid twisted her apron in her hands and spoke very low into Lauryn’s ear.
Lauryn took a shilling from her reticule to reward the maid and made her way back to the sitting room, eager to share her news. She threw the earl a meaningful look, and he stood. They offered their thanks to the servant and took their leave.
Outside, the earl turned to her.
“You look like the cat who emerges from the canary’s cage, feathers dripping from his whiskers. What did you learn?”
She smiled at him. “I have found someone who viewed the bones of your unfortunate captain!”
He gave a low whistle, which made his horse toss its head. “You have all my admiration, Mrs. Smith. Who is it?”
“The vicar’s cousin, James Hilber, is a medical student, and he helped arrange the bodies—well the bones—into the wooden caskets. It was necessary to straighten out just which went with what, so to speak.” Lauryn wrinkled her nose—it was a distressing thought.
The earl looked thoughtful. “I see what you mean.” He picked up his reins. “Did she tell you where can we find this gentleman?”
“Yes, indeed.”
“Mrs. Smith, you are a marvel!”
Feeling warmed by his smile, she told him where they should go, and then he helped her into her saddle. Was it her imagination or did he linger for a moment with his hands on her hips?
Her blood warmed to have his hands again on her body. Why did he stay away last night? Would he join her tonight or ignore her again?
Sighing, she settled herself comfortably—or as comfortably as her bruises from yesterday allowed—back on her mount.
The earl mounted his own horse, and they turned back toward the roadway. They urged their steeds onward. Traffic was heavier now, but within the hour they found the inn that the maidservant had described. Behind the counter a tall, thin young man studied a thick book while two workmen nursed their mugs of ale and talked in low voices. When they entered, the young man looked up quickly and marked his place in the volume.
“Like a drink, gov?”
“I’d like to talk to you, Mr. Hilber,” the earl said, laying a guinea onto the well-scrubbed surface. “And I’m willing to pay for the privilege.”
The young man’s jaw dropped, and he gazed at the coin. “I–I—” He turned and yelled toward the kitchen. “Holly, come out here.”
When a somewhat blowsy woman in a long apron emerged, he told her, “Watch the counter for a bit; I need to talk to this gentleman.”
“But me bread’s in the oven,” she protested.
“I’ll give you a half shilling for the extra work,” he promised.
Seeing that the guinea had already disappeared from the top of the counter, Lauryn bit back a grin. He had scooped it smoothly off and into his pocket.
“Would you like a drink, sir?” he asked, turning back to the earl.
“An ale, if you please,” Sutton said.
“Missus?” The young man asked.
“A cup of tea, perhaps,” Lauryn murmured.
“Holly, bring us a cuppa tea, there’s a good girl,” he told the woman, who rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on, you got to check your loaves, anyhow.”
He brought a tall mug of ale for the earl and emerged from behind the counter, motioning for them to follow. “There’s a more private table in the corner, just there.”
They sat at the scarred, slightly sticky table, and the young man slid into the chair across from them. He stared at them in the dim light. “How’d you know my name, and what is it that you want?”
“We’ve been to the rectory, and the servant there told us where to find you. I understand that you’re a medical student?” the earl asked, his tone polite.
“Oh.” The young man flushed. “When I get enough funds laid by to go back to school, I shall be, again,” he told them. “I completed my first year of studies, but my money ran out. I have to make my own way. My parents died when I was young, and my father was only a poor cleric with little money of his own, so…”
He shrugged, and Lauryn felt a wave of sympathy for him. She knew well enough how difficult it was when money was scarce.
“We were also told that you saw the remains of the men who were found on the sunken ship, the Brave Lassie.” The earl paused. “I am Lord Sutton, and that was my ship. I am understandably interested in the men who worked on my behalf, and in what led to their deaths.”
The young man hesitated a moment, then he rose and went back to the bar, going behind it and bending to disappear from view for a moment. Holly came out of the kitchen with a cup of steaming tea just as he straightened. He took the tea and came back toward them, but he also had something tucked beneath one arm.
Putting the teacup in front of Lauryn, he sat down again on the other side of the table. He also put down a drawing tablet and opened it to a page that showed several sketches. Lauryn looked down at the pencil sketches and recognized several different views of what must be a human skull.
“This is one of the men, or his remains, found on the ship.”
“We went to the graveyard,” the earl interrupted. “There are not enough men buried there to account for all the crew.”
“No, my lord.” James Hilber sounded earnest as he met the earl’s gaze. “I assume that the rest of the crew’s remains may have drifted off or been swept away by the storm or the sea’s currents. We buried what was found. This man had two fingers with joints missing from an old shipboard accident, which the Harbor Master said marked him as the captain; it was a man the Harbor Master knew. He was found belowdecks, the skeleton intact. I made sketches of his injury just as practice, since I get little chance to study, just now.”
“I see,” the earl said, looking over the drawings once again. “And if you had seen this skull in a class at university, what would you say had caused this injury?”
“If I had seen this at school,” James said, hesitating for a moment, �
�I would have said he died from a blow to the head, my lord, from a thief in a dark alley seeking to steal his purse, perhaps. But I suppose, given the circumstance, that it must have been some kind of blow from a falling mast, or such like. I’m not a sailor, you understand, but I’m sure given a terrible storm, that some such could have happened.”
Lauryn spoke up for the first time. “Were there other bodies around him?”
They both looked at her. “No, just the one,” the young man said. “I’was said they found most of the others, what there were, closer to the upper decks.”
“Just so,” the earl muttered, staring at the drawing of the cracked skull, which James had so well depicted. “Was there anything else that stood out from these remains, anything else that seemed unusual?”
The young man shook his head. “No, my lord. They showed the kind of marking we would expect from their time in the seawater. That’s all.”
“I see.” Sutton’s tone was controlled. “Thank you for sharing your expertise.” He put his hand inside his coat and removed several more coins, which changed hands.
James Hiber’s expression brightened. His savings would be considerably enriched by this unexpected encounter, Lauryn thought as she sipped the mahogany-colored tea.
When the door to the tavern closed behind them, the earl handed a coin to the man who had held their horses, but they lingered for a moment before remounting, and Lauryn looked at the earl. “A mast cannot come down inside the ship, can it?”
He shook his head. “If so, we would have found evidence, and the whole ship might have broken up, which it did not.”
“Why do you think the captain was found there?”
He frowned. “I can think of many places a captain might be during a hard gale, but the bottom of the ship is not one of them.”
“If he had been injured from a flying piece of broken wood, he might have been taken below, with other wounded men, I suppose. But he was not.” He looked at her with admiration, and she felt her cheeks warm. “That is why you asked if other bodies were found there. If he alone had been hurt, he would more likely have been taken to his cabin, so more mysteries here. Did someone wish the captain out of the way?”
She waited, as it seemed he had more to say, and sure enough, he continued, his expression grim. “We had a warning that something was wrong on the Brave Lassie even before the ship disappeared.”
Lauryn knew her eyes had widened. “You did? From whom?”
“I don’t know. But a letter came just after the ship had sailed. And two different ship’s officers died in apparent accidents—at the time, it seemed trivial enough, but looking back…”
She nodded when he paused.
“Do you have any idea?”
“Speculations, but nothing that I can put solid evidence to. And I wish something tangible before I accuse anyone of serious crimes…”
His expression serious, he motioned to the horses. “Let us get started on the ride back to the shooting box; the sun is dropping in the sky.”
She nodded and the earl was helping her remount when he suddenly stiffened.
“What is it?” Lauryn asked, keeping her tone low and trying to make out what had caught his attention.
“What the hell is he doing here?” Sutton muttered.
Nine
He quickly gained the saddle of his own horse, tightened his hold on the reins, and moved forward, motioning to her to follow. Just as she caught a glimpse of two familiar faces and knew whom he had recognized, she turned her own away and urged her mount after him.
It was Carter, the earl’s half brother, and the contessa, a parasol held over her head as they strolled along the pavement on the other side of the street. What were they doing in this small coastal town?
Fortunately, a high perch phaeton rolled past, blocking the newcomers’ view. Lauryn and the earl had moved away by the time the carriage had passed them. Hopefully, the pair had not glimpsed them.
What were Carter and the contessa doing here? Were they searching for Sutton? The next time she was able to move her horse up parallel to the earl, Lauryn asked the question aloud.
“I don’t know, but if he plans to move into the shooting box along with us, he is mightily mistaken,” Sutton told her, frowning. “It is a small residence, and we came here to leave Carter’s house parties behind! I have no desire for more unwanted guests.”
Lauryn bit her lip, aware that she was gratified by the earl’s emphasis. Perhaps he was not yet totally tired of her company, after all. Perhaps she could hope for more shared evenings, then, before they parted.
Despite his indications of his desire for her company, the earl decided to stop and check on his newly acquired guards at the warehouse that held the recovered cargo.
This time two men stood where they should be, and they surprised no illicit visitors within the big building. The earl spoke briefly to the men on duty, and as it was becoming too dark inside to take a closer look at the cargo, told them that he would be back another day.
As Lauryn waited, she caught a movement at the corner of the building. A man on foot appeared briefly, then stepped back out of sight.
Was it because he saw someone at the door of the warehouse?
Probably it was nothing, she told herself, perhaps it had nothing to do with the guards or the fact that she and the earl were there. But although she’d had only the briefest glance—there had been something, something not right…
When Sutton returned, she decided she should mention it, even if she were being overly cautious.
He seemed to read her face. “What?”
“I saw a person come out of the alley,” she told him. “It was a man on foot, and I had only an instant to glimpse him before he turned back into the shadows, but–but his face was not just as usual. I don’t know how to explain—I did not have enough time to get a good look—but something about him was different, somehow.”
About to mount his steed, the earl paused.
“Perhaps I only imagined it,” Lauryn said, afraid she might be making too much of her perplexed moment. “And he might not have turned because we were here, but—”
“But perhaps he did, and perhaps you are not,” the earl said. “Let me check out the alley. Wait for me here.”
He swiftly gained his seat on his horse and nudged the beast forward. Lauryn bit her lip and watched him trot around the corner and turn into the dark alley. She waited impatiently until he reappeared, shaking his head.
“I see no sign of him, but he likely ran out the other side and disappeared down one of the back streets,” he told her. “I doubt we can locate him now, however. We may as well call it a day.”
They headed out of town, side by side, and continued to talk.
“I want to take a closer look at some of the crates of cargo,” he told Lauryn as they rode away. “But it would be a waste of time this afternoon; the light is too far gone.”
“Do you have more questions about what was found on the ship?” she asked.
“I am wondering if someone could have substituted fake Ming vases for the real thing,” he told her. “It has to be something truly valuable to be worth killing for.”
“You think that was why the captain died? Did he discover what the plot was?”
“Perhaps, if he was not part of it. Or if he was, he wanted a bigger share, or—there are numerous possibilities. We may never know the answer.” The earl shook his head in frustration.
They turned toward the outskirts of town, and once the traffic on the road had lightened, were able to make better time. Lauryn was glad when they could urge their horses to more than a sedate trot and leave the town behind; it made the pressures of the earl’s mystery seem less insistent.
Twilight fell as they rode back to the hunting lodge, and birds twittered in the trees around them, and insects sang. On the last part of the ride, they were alone on the road, and it heightened her feelings of intimacy. It was as if they rode through a golden garden, the l
ight was so luminous, glinting on the growing grain as birdsong provided a lyrical accompaniment to their easy ride.
She could forget the sad puzzle of the sunken ship and the crew’s death—it seemed far away, after all, and hardly touching them. They would return to the lovely hunting lodge, enjoy another delicious dinner prepared by the earl’s servants, and tonight—tonight, hopefully, he would not be too tired or too preoccupied with his concerns over the ship and its cargo to wish to take her into his arms. They would share the kind of magnificent lovemaking that they had already created together several times. Just the thought made her smile.
They turned into the drive leading up to the hunting box, and the horses tossed their heads, recognizing that they were home. Stalls with oats and warm rubdowns awaited them in the stable behind the house. Flambeaux had been lit outside the front door, illuminating circles of light amid the growing darkness so Lauryn and the earl could more easily see as they reined in their horses.
As she pulled back on her reins and waited for the earl to dismount and come to catch her as she slipped out of her saddle, Lauryn felt the same spark of anticipation—already this lovely little house seemed like home.
The earl, too, smiled up at her as he helped her down. “It’s been a long day,” he said. “We’ve barely time to change for dinner. You must be hungry.”
“Yes,” she said, her voice low and husky. And as she looked up at him, she saw something in his eyes that acknowledged what he saw in her own—that she hungered for more than mere food.
Don’t shut me out again, she thought. And she hoped she saw understanding there.
But he said only, “We should go in.”
So for the moment, she had to be content with that.
A groom appeared to take the horses around to the stables, and they turned to enter the house. But when the door opened, Lauryn felt her heart drop.
An unfamiliar hat and gloves sat on the hall table, and she heard voices in the sitting room and a tinkle of melody.
“Oh, bloody hell,” the earl swore briskly.
He exchanged glances with her, and then, his expression stern, turned to face his obviously unwelcome guests.
