Chapter 15
Caroline retreated to her room with the newspaper to avoid taunting the others until she was ready to share. Her dutiful selflessness had given way after Richard offered the paper to her. There were limits, were there not?
Sometimes The London Gazette was only a few pages, while other editions were longer.
This was a nice thick one, which she was glad of, especially since they were reduced to the one paper.
Usually she skimmed the news and spent more time on the society pages, but now she hungered for fresh news.
She read every page, even the military updates and the boring summary of a dust-up in the House of Lords.
Only then did she allow herself to go on to marriages and deaths, Royal doings, society announcements, and notable sermons to be preached at St. Paul’s for the coming week.
She even read about a lecture series at the Royal Conservatory.
Most everyone of note in the society pages she knew of, though only a few she knew personally.
One could practically hear the headmistress’s voice. Caroline smiled, continuing to run her eyes over Respectable Young Persons seeking employment as apprentice cabinet-makers or junior smithies, and Young Ladies of Refinement seeking posts as companions, governesses, and piano-instructors.
In the business and financial notices, however, she could not even feign interest, for despite knowing all the words used, such as Investment, Exchange, Collateral, and Interest, she was quite unable to make sense of them strung together. Only one caught her eye, and she could hardly say why…
The East India Company, in conjunction with Bow Street, does seek a most Heinous Counterfeiter, who has created forged Bonds and Bills of Exchange equaling three to five thousand pounds.
It is believed the man is recent of Cambridge and is between nineteen and thirty years of age.
His true name is unknown, but nom de plumes include Christopher Duncan and Arthur Adamson.
Perhaps it was the “recent of Cambridge” that caught her eye, for Mr. Belvedere was forever mentioning his alma mater. And there was the matter of those letters of recommendation, which no one quite believed, although they could not prove they were fake…
She showed the notice to Richard when he came into their cabin, and he frowned over it. “I see what you mean, but it is precious little to base an accusation on. A vague age and the mention of Cambridge…”
“That’s true. I am far from insisting we accuse him, I only noticed. Perhaps the paranoia of the last weeks is affecting me.”
“You and all of us,” he agreed heartily.
“That is why I am hesitant to throw another brand on the fire. And the East India Company!” He whistled.
“I would sooner betray the British government than they. The Home Office might be bargained with, but the Honorable East India Company will see their man hanged.”
Caroline shivered. “If that is true—do we really wish Mr. Belvedere to die for his crimes? I do not. Should we warn him, perhaps, if he is being hunted?”
“We still have no proof it’s him. But if he is fleeing the country, I’m sure he already knows they are onto him.
” Richard suddenly struck his forehead. “Oh, strike me with a feather, you may be right—what if he tampered with the mail? Perhaps Mr. Belvedere knows that notice of his crimes is going to the Company agents in Portugal. He might try to destroy the orders to give himself more time. There may even be a Writ of Arrest.”
“Oh… That does seem possible. In that case, perhaps I should warn Sophia, for despite what she says, I think she is not indifferent to him.”
“Ugh, I hoped I had scotched that. They have no longer been so pointed, have they?”
“What did you say?”
“I warned him that he had grown too particular and that he ought to remember she was not unaccompanied and unprotected.”
“I’m not sure he took that to heart.”
“I’ve not heard anything much in the past two days.”
“It is not in what they say, my dear, it’s in their faces, in their manner—oh, I cannot explain it to you, but I assure you they are blindingly aware of one another.”
“Dash it all,” Richard said. “Here I thought boredom would be our undoing on this trip, but I would happily compound for some boredom at this point!”
The newspaper had to be shared, and although Caroline considered removing the offending page, it was one which also contained the second page of news.
It would be very obvious that something had been concealed.
In the end, she and Richard decided to leave it in.
“Let us see if anyone else comes to the same conclusion,” Richard said.
“Perhaps you are right that our anxieties have affected us.”
The next to demand the paper was Lady Marston, and after that it was given to Anne and Wentworth, and then to Mr. Belvedere.
If he was at all frightened of a revelation, it was well-hidden, nor did the offending page disappear after he perused it.
He gave it—apparently whole and intact—to Sophia when he was done.
“Ah, Lady Patience,” he said, royally putting the paper into her hands that afternoon, “you have outlasted us all. But, as is the norm with great virtue, there is no great reward awaiting.”
She had been sitting with Anne while Caroline played the harpsichord, and she took the paper placidly. “Virtue is its own reward,” she said. “Those who look for another rarely find it.”
His mouth tipped up. “That’s taught me what-for, hasn’t it?”
“I can only hope.” She spread the paper on the table and read while Caroline continued to play.
Sophia had her own reasons for perusing all the business advertisements, but when she read the notice from the East India Company, she was even quicker than Caroline to see connections to their mysterious fellow passenger who was determined to persecute her.
It did not take her long to realize the full ramifications of the accusation.
It almost did not matter if it was true—although she would give odds that Mr. Belvedere was the man in question—but even the suspicion would be enough for Captain Smythe.
Their beleaguered captain would clap Mr. Belvedere in irons at even the possibility.
The EIC had offices and agents everywhere.
Smythe would happily deliver Mr. Belvedere to John Company—as her husband used to call the East India Company—the moment they reached Lisbon.
However, she was also constrained by the same impulse that had slowed Caroline and Richard from shouting it out. Mr. Belvedere made her uncomfortable with both his suspicions and his unwanted offers of help, but she didn’t want him to meet the business end of a noose.
However, if Mr. Belvedere continued to accuse her of theft, if he might cause others to suspect her, this was certainly a serious piece of leverage.
This time it was she who sought him out.
Privacy was indeed hard to find, but she contrived to have Lady Marston leave her opera glasses on deck in order to have a reason to retrieve them at the opportune moment.
There were not many things that might conceivably be left on deck, but that seemed a plausible one to Sophia.
A mention of waterspouts in the morning laid the foundation, along with the complaint that Sophia could not make out the whales. Sophia had only to wait until Lady Marston and Sir Mark were distracted to slide the glasses behind the small row-boat that was lashed down on deck.
That evening, after a supper of sausages, spinach with almonds, and perfectly al dente pasta, the moment arrived. Sophia remembered the “forgotten” glasses, and Lady Marston required her to go retrieve them.
“Ah, I thought you might want to speak to me!” Mr. Belvedere said when she came up on deck. His fair hair was pulled back as he often did, although the wind had tugged out a few strands, which blew in the light breeze. He was perilously near the dinghy where she had left the glasses.
He motioned below to the dining room. “Put on that little charade for me, didn’t you?”
Sophia scowled. “Fine, yes, and I will be quick about this. At least I am not so bold and lost to all sense of propriety as to barge into your cabin.”
He grinned. “You’re welcome any time, my dear.”
“Ugh, you are abominable.”
“I think you resent that I understand you so well.”
“I don’t have anything in common with a counterfeiter,” she hissed. “Isn’t that what you’re running from? You’ve defrauded the East India Company.”
His confident air was unimpaired. “Is this in the manner of a threat?”
Sophia was unaccountably angered, unhappy to be forced into the position of blackmailer.
If he had responded with fear or uncertainty, she would probably have been overcome with guilt, but his nonchalance somehow enraged her more.
“Yes, it is a threat. You have accused me of theft, but if you dare to slander me to others in that way, I have ammunition in return.”
“Was this in the Gazette?”
“Yes, and you can deny that it’s you, but they say the man is just down from Cambridge.”
He placed a hand on his chest. “I hesitate to contradict you, but that does not sound like incontrovertible proof.”
“I’m sure it’s you. It has to be you.”
“Why?”
“Because—that is not the point. Even the accusation would harm you, so don’t think to turn on me.”
“You have deeply misunderstood my intentions. I promise I won’t turn on you.”
“Well—well, I have every intention of turning on you if I must, so you may save your die-away airs.” She wavered. “That is—I don’t wish to turn you in—but I beg you will leave me be. Cannot we leave this at a détente and finish the journey as amicable strangers?”
He sighed. “You’re never at a loss for words; it’s really quite charming. But yes, I suppose that is fair. And if I did have anything to do with such a dangerous scheme, I would prefer it didn’t come to light, I suppose.”
“Aren’t you afraid?” Sophia asked, curious despite herself.
He grinned. “That’s the cost of a good gamble, is it not?”
Sophia shook her head, although she knew what he meant. She did enjoy a good wager, but she’d never played with her life in the balance. Or well—perhaps that was not quite true either. Her current deal with Lady Marston was rather an outrageous gamble.
But she did not want to get drawn into conversation again, and she needed to keep this short to avoid suspicion if anyone noticed her brief absence.
She crouched to fetch the opera glasses behind the dinghy, where she’d safely tucked them away.
Her fingers scraped on wood and waxed rope—but the crevice was empty.
She swiped it again, a little more urgently.
“Looking for these?” Mr. Belvedere dangled the opera glasses from one finger.
“Oh—I despise you.” The rocking of the ship, which she barely noticed anymore, caused her to stumble as she rose to her feet.
He steadied her with a hand at her waist. “Do take care.”
Sophia took the glasses from him and fled below. She felt unhappily that she had not gained the upper hand as she hoped.