Anna did. “Is it from him?”
“I dislike vague pronouns when a woman is nervous, but yes.”
Anna’s breath caught. She broke the wax and unfolded the paper. The message was brief.
The sentimental keepsake has reached safe hands. The child is remembered. The bird has flown. The ship sailed lighter than intended. I remain, unfortunately, tragically flawed.
Anna read it once. Then again. Her eyes stung with tears before she could stop them.
Mrs. Pembroke reached over and tapped the paper. “Well?”
Anna swallowed. “The locket is safe.”
“So it seems.”
“And Josiah Bell,” Anna said with a sniff.
“The bird has flown,” Mrs. Pembroke said. “A trifle poetic for my taste, but Mr. Reed cannot be blamed for everything.”
Anna pressed the paper to her chest before she remembered herself. “And the ship?”
“Sailed lighter than intended,” Mrs. Pembroke repeated. “I take that to mean Captain Whitby’s cargo has found more patriotic accommodations.”
Anna closed her eyes for one moment. The powder. The barrels. The danger moving quietly through the harbor, hidden beneath ordinary words and ordinary markings. Gone now or at least removed from British hands.
Relief came again, heavy as before, but this time threaded with something brighter. “They did it,” she whispered.
“Yes,” Mrs. Pembroke said. “They did.”
Anna opened her eyes. “Is he safe?”
Mrs. Pembroke’s expression shifted. Not enough to alarm most people. Enough to alarm Anna.
“He is alive.”
Anna let to an impatient sigh. “That is not the same thing.”
“No, dear. It is not.” Mrs. Pembroke took her by the shoulders and turned her toward the nearest chair. “Sit before you fall into something inconvenient.”
Anna fought an eye roll. “I’m not going to fall.”
“You’re pale, stubborn, and in love. The odds are not in your favor.”
Anna sat then realized what Mrs. Pembroke had said. “I’m not in love.”
Mrs. Pembroke gave her a pitying look. “Oh, child.”
Anna’s cheeks warmed. “I barely know him.”
Mrs. Pembroke arched an eyebrow at her. “People say that as if hearts keep ledgers.”
“He deceived me,” she shot back.
“He deceived half the British command in Setauket. You mustn’t take it personally.”
Anna looked at the note again. The last line blurred, then cleared.
I remain, unfortunately, tragically flawed.
