Chapter 1
Chapter one
Edward
Four Months Later
Despite its pleasant name, The Nightingale was not the best establishment in Town to visit with its less-than-trustworthy patrons and undeniably foul stench.
I could not be certain whether the smell came from those about the room lacking hygiene or from the food produced by the kitchen.
Likely both. Either way, the handkerchief pressed against my nose did little to protect me.
I meandered through the room until I found an empty table. Several sets of eyes rested on me as I sat down. I could hardly blame them. Never mind the handkerchief. With my tailored clothes and starched cravat, I stood out here.
Ironic, really. I felt as though I did not fit in with the upper class, despite my fine clothing, but neither did I belong with those who currently surrounded me. Years at sea could do that to a man—leave him feeling as wayward as the tossing waves. I was, at present, a ship without a harbor.
A maid with a loose-knotted coiffure and a freckled nose approached, eyeing me with the sort of curiosity I wished I could avoid. “Afternoon, sir. Will ye be taking a meal today?”
I lowered the handkerchief. “No, I thank you.” I didn’t trust anything cooked within these walls to go into my stomach.
Her brows puckered. “Ye sure?”
“Yes, ma’am. I am simply meeting someone here.”
The woman scoffed lightly as she walked away, undoubtedly offended by my unwillingness to spend coin, but saving her pride was not worth the inevitable stomachache I would receive.
Half an hour passed, and my patience wore thin. The longer it took me to gain the information I needed, the colder the trail became. Perhaps I ought to leave now and continue my search elsewhere.
But no, I could not leave yet. None of my other leads had gone anywhere fruitful. This meeting was, unfortunately, my last chance. If Cratchit didn’t show…
I scrubbed a hand over my face. Think positive, for her sake.
After another quarter hour and dozens of scowls from the maid, my hope deteriorated.
I stood to leave, but before I could take a single step, the door of the establishment swung open.
Mortimer Cratchit entered, his wavy light hair as disheveled as it had been at sea and his clothes just as travel-worn.
The scrawny seaman’s eyes roamed the room until they settled on me, and his throat bobbed with a swallow.
Good. I still had the power of intimidation on my side.
I might need it if he refused to answer my questions.
That he had shown up—even late—was a testament to some willingness to cooperate, though I suspected his arrival could be attributed to the bribe I offered via our letters rather than Cratchit’s moral compass.
The man’s loyalties had always been easily persuaded.
I should know, given his prior allegiances had resulted in me being thrown overboard and left for dead.
Cratchit slowly made his way toward me. I gestured to the empty chair on the opposite side of the table when he hesitated to sit down. He claimed the seat, still not meeting my eyes.
“You’re late,” I said.
His gaze finally snapped to mine, wide and uncertain. “Had to be sure I wasn’t followed.”
“And were you?”
He shook his head. “No, Lieutenant.”
“Then let us get straight to it. You have information I need.” Or so Cratchit had claimed in his letter. I wasn’t entirely certain I believed him, but if there was even a sliver of a chance he spoke the truth, I had to know.
Cratchit leaned forward, his voice dropping to a whisper. “You’ll pay me, yes? Like you promised.”
My jaw clenched. A life hung in the balance, and he worried about receiving payment? The lack of morality disgusted me, but I shouldn’t have been surprised by it. Nor could I let my anger scare him off.
“Yes,” I said through gritted teeth. “Now, tell me everything you know about Captain Hollinsby. Where did he go after we made port?”
Cratchit glanced around the room again, his fingers tapping against the table. “Maybe this is a mistake. I ought not say anything. He’ll have me hanged, so he will. How do I know you won’t seek my punishment, too?”
I could have sought justice for the misdeeds against me, but without proof of what occurred, it was my word against a revered captain. Cratchit would never confess to his hand in it all, thus sentencing himself in the process, and there was no one else who had witnessed the attempt on my life.
No one with a voice the courts would acknowledge, at any rate. A trial would lead to nothing but lost time. I didn’t have it to spare at present.
I leaned forward. “I give you my word as a gentleman that I will not pursue a case against you. All I want is information on Hollinsby.”
“Word of a gentleman? Don’t mean nothing to me.
” Cratchit studied me for several long moments before his shoulders slumped.
“Very well, but I don’t know much. I overheard the captain saying he planned to buy property.
Some place called Willowbrook Manor in Kent, I believe. Was very secretive about it all.”
Property in Kent? It wasn’t much to go on, but it gave me somewhere to start.
I clasped my hands together on the table. “When you saw him last, did he mention traveling to this new property with anyone?”
Cratchit averted his gaze. “No.”
I had known Cratchit since I turned three and twenty and transferred to the HMS Freedom, the vessel captained by Hollinsby. Five years at sea with Cratchit had taught me a great many things, including his tells when he lied.
I slammed my fist against the table, and the man nearly fell out of his seat with a yelp.
Eyes from around the room focused on us, and I withdrew my hand, willing myself to calm.
“The truth, Cratchit. You’re fully aware of the captain’s malfeasance.
I will not stop until his crimes are brought to light and his wrongs are righted.
Whether you go down with him is up to you. ”
Cratchit swallowed. “I do not think he left Portsmouth alone.”
“You do not think, or you know he did not?”
“He waited until dark to depart, Lieutenant. I cannot be sure, especially given the color…” His eyes lifted to the ceiling as he trailed off. “I am only half certain. Shadows have a way of playing tricks on the mind.”
A growl rumbled from my chest with the frustration swelling there. Cratchit had made it sound as if he had more solid information to offer. I leaned back and crossed my arms over my chest. “That’s all, then?”
Cratchit nodded. The man was not trustworthy in the least, but he had given me something, even if it was far less than I’d hoped for. I reached into my coat pocket and tossed several crowns onto the table. Cratchit gathered them quickly, muttering his thanks.
“You will inform me if you hear from him,” I said. “Or if you come by more information. Payment will continue.”
Cratchit met my gaze, a greedy look filling his eyes. “Yes, sir.”
With our meeting concluded, I left The Nightingale and returned to my family’s townhouse. It was a relief to finally have a lead to follow, but I refused to allow my hopes to lift too high. This could easily go nowhere.
“Darling,” Mother greeted me as I entered the drawing room. She stood, and I crossed the room to kiss her cheek before taking a seat. She poured me a cup of tea. “You’ve been gone all morning. I must say, when you told me you had finished with your naval career, I hoped to see more of you.”
“Why? So you could find me a match and foist me off onto a poor woman?”
Laughter glinted in her eyes. It was no secret that she took great pleasure in finding matches for her sons. With one successful pairing under her belt, all her focus settled on me. Having been at sea nearly my entire adult life, I didn’t begrudge her efforts.
Not that I wished to wed at present, but I valued the opportunity to spend time with her. Letters only allowed so much of a connection. I did not know my parents as well as I would have liked.
“I will find you a match. A proper and respectable one. There has been more than enough interest.” She sipped her tea, eyeing me over the rim of her cup. “Of course, you seem to have already taken an interest in someone.”
I rolled my eyes and stole a tart from the tea tray. “We’ve been through this, Mother. Miss Apsley and I were friends, nothing more. As she has left Town, there is no reason for you to continue scheming on that front.”
She shrugged, though her amusement remained. “Scheming is never a waste of time. I find it exciting. Parties and balls are all well and good, but the chance to see my son settled?” One of her dark brows lifted. “What more could I wish for?”
I smiled, but it was a bit forced. “I do not have time for a wife, Mother.” I set my empty cup down.
“If men waited until they had time, they would never marry. Your father certainly would not have.”
She was correct about that. Father, busy man that he was, could be terribly focused.
It was that very stubborn, single-mindedness that had brought our family financial success through various business deals.
Mother had never begrudged Father the amount of time he spent working for our family’s gain, but then, how could she when she reaped the benefits directly?
Theirs was not a love match, and she seemed unbothered by his absence.
If I wanted the same success in my personal endeavors, I required that same focus. It worked for Father, and it would work for me. I intended to marry one day, but that was far, far in the future. Until I could devote time to a wife, I would not take one. Simple.
I sighed and leaned forward to pat Mother’s hand. “Rest assured, you will be the first person to know when I am ready. Then, I will welcome your scheming.”
She smiled indulgently. “I look forward to it, darling, but you needn’t put it off. A man can devote his time in multiple ways, you know.”