“Deliberate, do you think?” Stephan asked.
Eric shook his head. “It’s hard to say.”
“It could just be normal wear and tear,” Brice said. “We have been taking her out nearly every day the past two weeks.”
Stephan fingered the loose stitches and then bent to look closer. A muscle twitched in his jaw as he sat back. “Take another look and tell me what you think.”
Brice frowned as he inspected the area. “I really cannot tell.”
Eric squinted as he ran a thumb across the stitching and then paused to lift the edge of the sail closer. “By Thor’s hammer! I think it’s been cut.”
Stephan nodded. “I think so, too.”
“How can you tell?” Brice asked. “It looks frayed to me.”
Eric pulled at two of the loose stitches. “A part of it is. You can see the feathering along the outside part where the sails rubbed. But here on the inside…” He turned the waxed thread over. “…it’s clean. Probably done with a razor.”
“But when?” Brice asked. “Since we discovered the loose winches, we have kept a watch on theLady.”
Eric laid the sail down. “I would guess it was done the same time as the winches were loosened.”
Stephan clenched his jaw. “A little extra sabotage for backup.”
“Looks like it,” Eric replied. “The clew isn’t something you would normally catch. Slicing the stitches partially would cause them to fray pretty quickly.”
“Nothing like having the sheets tear off to leave the mainsail flapping,” Brice said, “especially if it happens in the middle of the regatta. We would come in last place for sure.”
Stephan stood and looked down the quay. “Tisdale is still up at the Pavilion. If we can get this repaired quickly, he will never realize we found it.”
Brice rose, too. “I will go to the marine shop and get some more thread.”
“Thanks,” Stephan said and helped Eric gather the large sail and bring it back on the boat. They hooked the main halyard to the head of the sail and partially hoisted it up the mast, then attached the foot of the sail to the boom so it wouldn’t look as though anything were wrong should Tisdale appear before they had fixed the clew. When they were finished, Eric gave Stephan a speculative look.
“Do you think it’s competition or desperation that is making the earl take such drastic measures?”
Stephan contemplated. “Everyone likes to win, but I do not think the love of sailing is in Tisdale’s blood—”
“That’s obvious. Sabotaging a man’s boat is akin to stabbing him in the back, to say nothing about a seaman’s superstition for doing so,” Eric said. “Neptune doesn’t take kindly to a sailor doing such a thing.”
“I doubt Tisdale cares about superstition,” Stephan said. “He said as much earlier.”
Eric shook his head. “Still. It is not wise to tempt the gods.”
“True, but you are aware of the competition between the earl and me regarding Miss Nash?”
“It seems more of a one-way competition to me. I don’t think the lady cares one iota for the man.” Eric paused. “Perhaps that is part of the problem. The less she cares, the more the blow to the earl’s ego.”
Stephan didn’t think Caroline cared, either, although the strange behavior on her part had him wondering if his instincts could be wrong. Heneededto talk to her. “The whole idea of Miss Nash being the winning prize of the regatta is absurd.”
“You won’t get an argument from me,” Eric said. “The entire way the nobility arrange marriages is ridiculous, as far as I’m concerned. I’m just glad I’m not one of them.” Eric grinned. “In fact, Barclay and I were discussing that the other night after you left. Neither of us can imagine being chained to a prim-and-proper aristocratic lady who would only consider it a duty to procreate for the proverbial heir and spare. And she’d probably do that in the dark with as much of her clothes on as possible.” Eric’s grin widened. “Although I assume Miss Nash probably doesn’t fit that category.”
Stephan wasn’t quite sure whether to consider that a compliment or an insult to Caroline’s honor. He certainly wasn’t going to admit he’d already experienced some of the passion she was capable of. But before he could answer, Eric grew serious.
“It could be her dowry.”
Stephan blinked at the sharp turn of conversation. “What?”
“Caroline’s dowry. Barclay mentioned it was substantial.”
