Page 98 of Highland Champion
“Nae.” She smiled. “My brother dinna come by, thank goodness.”
“And Lady Bute?”
“She had charity calls this morn.”
“Very good. I would not want you getting into trouble just because I invited you for a sail.”
“Doona fash about that.”
“This way, then.” He gestured toward the small plank that straddled the space between the dock and the gunwale of the ship. “Let my first mate assist you.”
A man with a swarthy face, no doubt darkened even more by the sun, had appeared on deck and now extended his hand. Lorelei thought he looked like a pirate, but perhaps that was because he wore no jacket, only a white linen shirt with flowing sleeves and black breeches.
“Bon jour, mesdames,” he said.
Erik shook his head. “They do not speak French, Pierre.”
The man smiled. “I will speak English then.”
Fiona smiled back uncertainly, but took his hand while a second man, similarly dressed, came up from below.
“My boatswain, Jean,” Erik said as the man helped Lorelei on board. He looked to the forward deck where two sailors were readying the jib and main sails. “Are we ready to cast off?”
“Oui, Capitaine. A minute or two,” Jean said.
He nodded and started to board when another sailor came running toward him, waving a paper.
He stepped down. “What is it, Frederick?”
The man appeared winded and simply handed him the note. He read it, a frown creasing his brow. Then he looked up.
“I am so sorry, ladies. There is a matter I need to attend to that cannot wait.”
“’Tis all right.” Fiona sounded disappointed as she stood. “We can do this another time.”
Erik shook his head. “There is no need to cancel the sail, especially after the precautions you took.” He looked at the first mate. “Pierre is perfectly capable of handling the boat without me. I insist you go ahead with our plans.” He didn’t wait for an answer, but started undoing the bow line. “I will be waiting whenSea Roverreturns.”
“Are ye sure?” Fiona called out as the bow began to turn into the current.
“Absolutely.” Erik cast the stern line off, allowing the boat to drift out into the Thames. “Safe journey.”
Lorelei gave Fiona a quizzical glance as they seated themselves in the cockpit. “Safe journey? That was rather an odd thing for him to say, was it not?”
Fiona shrugged. “’Twas just a phrase.”
…
5:30 p.m., Monday
“Are ye sure theSea Roverhasna passed by?”
The harbormaster, housed on the second floor of the customhouse at Billingsgate, gave him a dour look. “It is my office’s responsibility to note time and departure of each ship that leaves.”
“Ye keep a record?”
“Of course.” His tone was none too cordial as he gestured to a desk near a window where a clerk sat with an open ledger. “Each one that leaves gets written down.”
“Do you mind if we take a look?” Gavin asked. “We fear two ladies may be aboard against their wishes.”
