“Yes.” He smoothed out a crease on his cuff. “I was happily swindling and swiving my way through life, and then I fell in with you again on the way to Elba.” Another sigh. “And somehow acquired a conscience.”
He blew out his breath. “A conscience is a cursedly uncomfortable encumbrance. I don’t know how you manage to live with one.”
Arianna couldn’t help it. She began to laugh.
“It’s not amusing,” he protested, though a smile played at the corners of his mouth.
“By the by, how is Jelena?” she asked. “And Johannes?” Much to everyone’s surprise—including his own, Wolff had transformed from an unprincipled cad to a knight in shining armor by helping to save a German noblewoman and her young son who were caught up in the deadly cat-and-mouse game between Grentham and Napoleon’s agents.
“They are both very well,” answered Wolff. “We’ve been living quietly in Hamburg—”
“Then why are you here?” interrupted Arianna.
His expression turning serious, he darted a look around before answering. “I think it best that I leave any further explanations until we are in a more private place.”
“That makes sense,” she agreed. The procession of baggage carts was rolling up to the wharf, and on catching Saybrook’s attention, she gave a wave to indicate she was already aboard.
His gaze rested for a moment on Wolff, but she was too far away to read his expression.
“Who is that striking-looking lady with your husband?” asked Wolff, who had never encountered Sophia.
“A trusted friend,” answered Arianna. “Who happens to be a crack shot and bruising rider.”
He waggled a brow. “Don’t you have any normal, respectable acquaintances?”
“Respectability is vastly overrated,” she replied. “A lesson that I learned from you.”
“Right. What a pair we make.” Wolff said it lightly, but she knew him well enough to see the rippling of worry in his gaze.
The arrival of the earl and Sophia at the gangplank put an end to their tête-à-tête. “We’ll talk later,” murmured Arianna, seeing the ship’s captain appear on the main deck.
The flurry of introductions passed smoothly enough. Saybrook gave no sign of recognizing Wolff, a prudent move until they had a chance to discuss the situation in private. And while Captain Griswold clearly wasn’t happy at being assigned the task of transporting civilians and their servants, he maintained a stoic politeness.
“I’m afraid your quarters on board won’t be terribly comfortable,” he added. “I’ve reassigned my officers to temporary billets, but shipboard life is spartan to begin with—”
“We’re no strangers to naval ships,” interjected the earl. “You’ll hear no complaints from us.”
Griswold’s face relaxed slightly. “Your servants will have to share common quarters with the crew in the forecastle.”
Saybrook nodded. “They are former military men, so they, too, are quite used to improvising.”
“Well, then—I’ll have Lieutenant Stiles show you to your cabins.” He waved to an officer standing nearby. “You will, of course, dine with me in the captain’s mess for your meals. One of the midshipmen will come and inform you of the schedule.”
He glanced up at the mainmast, where the signal pennants were fluttering in the breeze. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must see to getting the mooring lines cast off and the sails hoisted so our journey can get underway.”
“This way, please,” said Lieutenant Stiles.
They came to Sophia’s quarters first, and she waved off the officer’s halting apology for having to share a cramped cabin with Arianna’s maid. “I’m aware that having female passengers makes shipboard life more challenging for the crew. We shall try to disrupt your life as little as possible.”
Stiles then led Arianna and Saybrook to slightly larger quarters. The earl glanced around. “I’m assuming this is the first lieutenant’s cabin,” he said. The first lieutenant was second-in-command of the ship and thus merited commensurate accommodations. “Which means we’ve displaced you for the duration of the journey.”
“It’s no trouble, Milord,” said Stiles, stepping aside to allow a pair of brawny sailors to muscle two trunks into the cabin. “I’m quite comfortable sharing quarters with our second lieutenant.”
“Please know we’re exceedingly grateful,” responded Arianna. Her smile, however, quickly slipped away once the lieutenant left and shut the door behind him. “Have you any idea if Prescott is sailing with us?” she said to the earl.
“Yes,” answered Saybrook. “Grentham’s adjutant told me he arrived an hour ago but went off to visit the shops in the naval yard after stowing his baggage.”
“A last-minute rendezvous with his co-conspirators?” mused Arianna. The minister seemed to believe there was a chance Prescott could be trusted. But she didn’t believe it for an instant.
