During the passage, Will had tried to surreptitiously draw information about the island and its inhabitants from Captain Black. One night the man had laughed and said, “Just tell me what it is you need to know, my lord, and I’ll be happy to give you any information I have. You don’t need to worry I’ll be indiscreet. I take pride in my prudence.”
Will had reluctantly realized that he needed the captain’s assistance and told him about the apparent problems with his late great-uncle’s business. “It appears prosperous on paper, yet the widow is claiming poverty.”
Captain Black rubbed his chin, then took a drink of wine. “Mr. Howden, the manager, is a well-thought-of man of business, but he’s ambitious, and I can’t see him wanting to work for a woman.” Black paused for a moment. “On the other hand, I’ve met your aunt on a few occasions. She must be devastated by Nathan’s death. She relied on him for everything. It would be pretty easy to pull the wool over her eyes.” A call came from somewhere in the ship and the captain cocked an ear before continuing. “If only she were older, Miss Eugénie—that’s Mrs. Wivenly’s daughter from her first marriage—could help.” The captain chuckled. “Now there’s a firecracker for you.”
“How old is Miss Eugénie?” Will couldn’t remember if he’d heard of her or not. Could the daughter be the problem? Will wasn’t naïve enough to think women weren’t capable of doing anything they set their minds to. Still, why would she try to beggar her mother? He tossed off the rest of his wine. None of this made sense.
“Maybe about twenty now.” The captain frowned. “Last time I saw her was a couple of years ago. She was still coltish then. Skinny little thing, all arms and legs. Brown as a nut because she kept losing her hat. Nathan spoiled her to death.”
Lovely. In addition to everything else, he’d have to deal with a willful, probably bran-faced brat.
“You know, my lord,” the captain said thoughtfully, “St. Thomas is a small island, and your family is well-known. If you use the name Wivenly, you’ll not be able to hide your interests.”
Will grinned. He knew just the one he’d use. “That’s Mr. Munford, Captain. A mere factotum for the earl. I’ll have to rely on my servants to give me any consequence at all.”
“You haven’t been Munford since Oxford.” Andrew barked a laugh. “After that girl tried to trick you into marriage, I thought you’d sworn off it.”
“That was years ago. No one in St. Thomas will recognize the name.” Will refilled his glass. “Besides, it won’t be for long.” At least he hoped it wouldn’t. He’d discharge his duty as quickly as possible then get on to the real purpose of his journey, having fun and avoiding marriage-minded ladies and their mamas.
By early afternoon, they’d docked. Captain Black found a carter for Will’s trunks and sent a message to the Queen Hotel concerning rooms.
An hour later, Will clasped the older man’s hand. “I hope I see you before you’re on your way again.”
“I’ll make a point of it.” Black gave Will a sly wink. “Sir. You’ll find a tailor on Main Street, what the Danes call Dronningens Gade, as well as most everything else you’ll need.”
“Is there a printer there as well?” Even if he only used his assumed identity for a short time, calling cards would be necessary.
“Yes”—the captain nodded—“just down from the tailor. Gentlemen, enjoy your stay. It was a pleasure having you on board. Perhaps we’ll make the return trip in the spring.”
Will tipped his hat. “Thank you, Captain, for all your help.”
Captain Black indicated a woman garbed in a colorful skirt leaning against the door of a building. “A word to the wise. St. Thomas has a reputation for being the healthy island, but that doesn’t apply to the brothels.”
“Good of you to warn us.” After over four weeks at sea, Will was definitely in need of female companionship, but his tastes ran more to widows than members of the impure. He’d never had any trouble finding willing women, even when he’d used the name Munford.
Andrew’s valet, Blyton, stood with Tidwell making sure the carter collected all their baggage. Most of Will’s coats would need to be replaced. The one he was wearing was so tight across the shoulders any sudden movement might rip the seams. It was also looser around his middle.
They walked up a side alley to the main street, then turned east and continued for several blocks until they came to a large building set in a garden, with a sign announcing it to be the Queen. Will studied the three-storied structure. Massive windows surrounded the ground and first floors, their louvered shutters closed on one side against the afternoon heat. Under a hipped roof, dormer windows lined the second floor. It must be hot up there. He wondered if that was where his servants would be expected to sleep.
“Here ye be, sir,” the carter said. “The best inn in Charlotte Amalie.”
Andrew and Will were soon ensconced in a large suite with two bedchambers, dressing rooms, and a parlor, which he and Andrew would share. Smaller rooms for their personal servants were on the same floor. All the windows had a view over the harbor, giving them a good breeze.
After settling in, their small coterie met in the parlor.
“Griff,” Will said, “you’ll need to arrange for a carriage.”
“You’re on foot, my lord.” The groom grinned. “This here town’s like Bath. From what that carter said, they got no horses on this side of the island.”
“The devil you say.” That was an unwelcome surprise. Will glanced at the hills surrounding him. If he would be on foot during his stay, before too long he might need to make a visit to a cobbler as well, or find a flatter island.
Griff wiped his shirtsleeve over his forehead and eyes. “I hope we get used to this heat soon.”
“It may lessen,” Andrew said. “According to the hotel’s porter, we are already in their storm season and the weather will cool.”
“I’d give a lot to stand in some rain right now.” Griff took out his handkerchief and mopped his face.
“My lord.” Tidwell stepped gingerly into the room, as if the floor might move on him. It would probably take a while for all of them to regain their land legs. Even Will still felt the roll of the ship.
