Louisa lifted one shoulder in a half shrug. “Lord Westwood might have gotten tired of her flightiness but allowed her to beg off by saying he wasn’t exciting enough.”
“So what does that have to do with Alasdair?” Fiona asked. “Is she running him a merry circle?”
“I do not know,” Louisa answered, “but this is her third Season. She definitely does not want to be considered to be on the shelf, and Lord Westwood’s friends stay away from her. She may be desperate.”
“Which is not fair to Alasdair,” Lorelei said. He didn’t deserve to beused.He was too honorable.
“I doubt it would do any good to tell him that,” Louisa replied.
Fiona snorted. “It willna. None of my brothers like to be told what to do any more than I do.” She glanced at Lorelei. “Alasdair is nae a fool, even though he can act like an eejit, so ye doona have to fash.”
“I am not fash…worrying.” Lorelei felt herself blush. “Anyway, as you say, he will not listen to any advice we give him.”
“Any more than I am listening to his.” Fiona grinned. “And that means we will be having lunch with Captain Taylor tomorrow.”
While she agreed wholeheartedly with Fiona that Alasdair shouldn’t be telling them what to do, which also meant they couldn’t tell him what to do, she was worried about the situation. In spite of the fact that she denied it.Good Lord! What if Lady Melissa actually trapped him?
…
The next day, Louisa’s father’s carriage rolled up to the Shadwell Dock precisely at one of the clock. A footman leaped down from the boot and opened the door for them. While he said nothing as they stepped out, their driver wasn’t so quiet. An older man, who’d been in the earl’s employ for years, he frowned as he looked around.
“The docks are no place for gels.”
Lorelei looked around at the rather frenetic activity. While some men were loading carts with cargo taken off several ships that were tied to the pier, others were carrying cargo on. Crew moved about on the decks, some tossing lines to sailors waiting on the docks. It looked rather like a bunch of busy ants going to-and-fro. Although several dockworkers glanced their way—probably as much at the earl’s crest on the carriage as at them—no one looked like they were going to accost them.
“It does not look dangerous,” Louisa said as if reading Lorelei’s thoughts.
“Umph,” the driver answered. “It’s the middle of the day and those men want to get paid. It will be a different story in a few hours.”
“Well, we will not be here that long.”
“Umph,” he said again as he pushed aside his top coat to reveal a pistol strapped to his leg. “We will wait right here.”
“Of course.” Louisa smiled at him. “I will be sure to let my father know how well you took care of us.”
The man turned a bit pink and Lorelei hid a smile that such a gruff man could be a bit embarrassed by what, from Louisa, was a real compliment and not just flattery.
She looked past the docks to the warehouses and other buildings behind the wharf. “Shadwell is one of the places I thought we might adventure,” she whispered to Fiona, “but I guess we saw enough coming over today.”
Fiona nodded. “’Twas a bit like Spitalfields, nae? Although,” she added, “I dinna see as many urchins lurking about.”
That was true. What they had seen were older boys who, while ragged-looking, also had an air of defiance about them. They didn’t clear the street for the carriage, but took their time walking across in front of them. A few had muttered things she couldn’t understand, but she knew the Cockney code was used here, so she wasn’t sure if they’d been cursing at them or not. Still, all in all, this was perhaps a bit too far east for Fiona and her to venture by themselves.
“If you want to see younger street urchins like we found at Spitalfields, we can go to Seven Dials next week. It is much closer to home.”
“Aye. Mayhap we can take a few coins, too.”
Lorelei laughed. “That will make us instantly popular.”
“Which ship is Captain Taylor’s?” Louisa broke in.
Fiona immediately turned her attention to the dock, street urchins apparently forgotten for the moment. “He said it was namedSea Master.”
“Master?” Louisa lifted one brow slightly. “I thought ships were usually named after women.”
“Aye, most of them are,” Fiona replied. “’Tis a superstition among sailors that the sea will mother and protect the vessel as a mother does her bairns.”
“Well, perhaps we should start looking for it?” Louisa asked. “So we will not be late for lunch?”
