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The parts she was leaving out, her grief, her father’s anguish, were tearing her up inside. Her turmoil churned inside of him.

“Before he left England to return to Mexico, he told me the truth. Captain Llewellyn had arrived in the port hours before Papa and had gone right to Mama’s to tell her the ship would follow closely and to check on them. Captain Llewellyn had surprised a man. He found Mama and Consuela dead.”

“Who was he?” Father exchanged a look with Kincaid.

“I don’t know. Captain Llewellyn killed him. Papa saw that body also. He said he didn’t recognize the man. He would say nothing more.” She glanced down at Charley. “I wanted to question Captain Llewellyn about this."

“We will do that,” Charley said.

“Papa trusted him, Charley, like he trusted your father.” Her forehead crinkled. “He is leaving soon. So much happened tonight, I’d almost forgot he said that.”

“He won’t be leaving until he talks to us.” His heart hurt. He wanted to wrap her up and take her to bed and show her that he was her champion now. Whatever was to be uncovered from this code, other men would do it. His job was taking care of her.

The three other men might not have been there, they waited so quietly. Not ones to rush their fences. It had kept them alive for this long.

A distant watchman called the hour.

Father sighed audibly.

“What happened after you left Veracruz?”

Farnsworth’s gently prodding question was the third crowing cock.

Gracie’s face twisted with anguish. She turned her hands and gripped his. “We left in as great a rush as possible. Papa careened all over the Caribbean, hitting this port and that. He wouldn’t say why, and I was too weak to press him, and...shut out. He was grieving and so very angry.” She choked in a breath. “He had always been jolly with us. Losing Mama...” She looked up at Father. “Losing his wife, in such a way...We were headed for Spain when we stopped in the Azores. He went off to meet someone, and came back, and we changed course for Portsmouth. Then Papa took us to London, and then to Lord Kingsley’s country estate. He went back and forth to London, and one day, he pulled me aside and told me what had really happened to Mama, and that he was l-leaving.”

She looked at the men. “Then he gave me the prayer book and showed me the blade hidden inside and reminded me—he had already taught me some things—he reminded me how to use it properly.”

“We should get the prayer book back also,” Kincaid said, “On the chance the Captain had a backup. Did you leave anything else behind, miss?”

She shook her head. “Only clothing and brushes. I brought my jewelry and the money I’d hidden.”

He caught Father’s nod.

Charley would go to Kingsley House tomorrow to demand his bride’s things. With any luck, the Kingsleys would be out, and he would simply push the servants aside and take them.

“Will you promise to tell me what you uncover?” she asked, “Even if you think the knowledge is not good for me. Will you promise to tell me, on your honor as gentlemen?”

All three agreed, their reluctance palpable.

Charley raised her hand to his lips. “I promise you will know everything I know.”

She expelled a long breath, pulled her hand away, and reached for the book.

“We will need that,” Kincaid said. “If there’s a code, it will likely relate to the pages and writing inside. I shall keep it safe, and repair the loose stitching. I promise that.”

Graciela closedher eyes for a moment, fatigue settling over her like another suffocating fever.

“You had better, Kincaid.” That was Charley’s voice. He had stood. He would want to take her to bed, to consummate their marriage.

She longed for his arms, for his comfort, for the pleasure he stirred in her.

She could not let him think he had won her over. She must see the results of Kincaid’s analysis, she must see Llewellyn’s report, and speak with Llewellyn.

She must check on Reina. The need to see her little girl gripped her. The whole world knew now that Reina was hers.

“Very well. I will go up.”

Charley’s hand closed on her elbow. “Good night, Father, gentlemen.”