“No.” It wasn’t true. She’d ridden on his shoulders and been rocked in his arms, but she’d never seen him kill her mother. She would have known such a thing. She would have remembered. No one would have had to tell her, because she would have recognized her own beast and hated him.
But she didn’t hate him. If anything, in a clumsy, childish way, over these past weeks she’d imagined she loved Lord Gillingham. How could this be? How was this true? All his kindness, all his tears, all his talk of loving his wife and daughter. All of it had been lies?
“The bedchamber. Just’ee go to yer mother’s bedchamber, under her pillows. Look there, Miss Gillingham. Then’ee shul know.”
She didn’t want to know. Not now. How much easier to let the beast remain faceless, to pretend that even if Captain no longer wanted her, her true father was rejoicing to have her back.
She couldn’t lose that. She mustn’t.
“Excuse me.” She left Minney’s chamber before the girl could tell her more. She flew down the attic stairs. She sank to the bottom step and framed her face, breathing deep, torn between running to her mother’s chamber or away from it.What do I do, God?
“I was just on my way to find you.” Mrs. Eustace appeared over top of Eliza, hands on her hips. “You hardly look presentable. Indeed, you are more disgraceful than anything else. Staying up there in the hottest part of the house, nursing a lunatic who shouldn’t be here in the first place.”
The insults didn’t matter. She hardly comprehended them.
“But all that aside, you must hurry.” She grabbed Eliza’s arm and hauled her up. “As surprising as it may be to both of us, you have a visitor.”
“Mr. Penn, might I have a word?”
Stepping out of the local coffeehouse, the agent for all ships porting in Lodnouth greeted Felton with a small nod. “Morning.” He checked his watch fob and continued walking. “Busy today. Very busy. Perhaps another time—”
“This will only take a moment.” Felton kept pace beside him, though it wasn’t a difficult feat considering the man was as rotund as he was short-legged. “I want to inquire about a ship that went down some fourteen years ago.”
“Oh?”
“I don’t know the name of the ship.”
“Forget them often myself. What did they carry?”
“I’m afraid I don’t know that either.”
“Tsk, man. I told you I am busy. Come back with your inquiry when you have more answers to mine—”
“The captain was a Jasper Ellis.”
“Oh?”
“Recognize the name?”
“Where did she go down? The ship, I mean.” The man took another glance at his watch fob. “Dear, dear, it is almost eight. I am supposed to meet the squire and talk over—err, who did you say the captain was?”
“Ellis.”
“Ellis, indeed. Now that seems a bit familiar. Sort of ugly thing, was he, with missing teeth? No, no, that would be my wife’s father.” He laughed, breath reeking of strong coffee. “Now then, let me see. Yes, I remember. The ship was theRed Drummer. Went down about thirty miles off the coast after catching afire.”
“What else do you know?”
“Not much. If there was any cargo aboard, it either burned, drowned, or was hidden from me. Everyone died but a couple men.”
“The captain among them.”
“Yes, seems I remember that. Odd thing, him living, when talk has it the fire was his own fault. Drunk or out of his mind or something, he was, when the tragedy occurred.”
“Who was the other man?”
“Bowles something or other. Never trusted that man. I’ve nudged the customs officers in his direction more than once, but if smuggling goes on, they’ve yet to sniff it out.”
“You think theRed Drummerwas smuggling goods?”
