Page 86

Samuel sighed. He had no wish to become so hardened that causing serious injury or death to another—no matter how despicable the individual—became an unremarkable event. But if he was to continue his work at Bow Street, he would have to face the fact that altercations such as the one in Lady Telford’s library were likely to be a common occurrence. He could only pray that never again would he have to participate in one that placed the woman he loved in jeopardy.

He withdrew his pocket watch and glanced at it. Half past nine. No matter how much he wished that he were still in bed, Captain Lund had ingrained in him the importance of being a man of his word. Samuel would give Cantrell an hour of his time, and then he would go to the Dennington residence to speak with Hannah.

Samuel climbed the stairs, opened the door, and stepped into a small entry. Immediately before him, a narrow staircase led to an upper floor. At his left, double doors opened into a large room lined with bookshelves. There were half a dozen somberly dressed men in the room—four seated at one of the three long tables in the center of the room and two pulling papers from one of the wide drawers in the bureau beneath the window. None of them was Cantrell.

Samuel closed the front door behind him, and one of the clerks at the bureau looked up from his work.

“Good morning, sir,” he said, setting his papers down and walking toward Samuel. “May I help you?”

“I’m looking for Mr. Francis Cantrell,” Samuel said.

“Is he expecting you?”

“He is.”

“It’s quite all right, Ellison.”

At the sound of Cantrell’s voice, Samuel and the clerk turned to face the stairs and watched Cantrell descend the last few steps in silence.

“I can take Mr. Ross to my office,” Cantrell continued.

“Very good, sir.” The clerk inclined his head and went back to his papers.

Cantrell turned to Samuel. “Good of you to come, Ross,” he said, gesturing to the stairs. “My office is on the next floor.”

“I shall follow you,” Samuel said.

Without another word, Cantrell led Samuel up the stairs and through the first door they came to at the top. The room was small but orderly. A mahogany desk commanded the greatest attention, three small piles of paper arranged along its left edge. One leather chair was positioned behind the desk, and two sat before it. Bookshelves lined one wall, and three paintings of the Thames hung opposite them. A small fire burned in the fireplace but had not yet fully dispelled the early-morning chill.

“Please.” Once again, Cantrell gestured, this time to the chairs. “Take a seat.”

Samuel chose the one closest to the door and waited for Cantrell to claim his place on the other side of the desk.

“You are probably wondering why I was so insistent upon meeting with you right away,” Cantrell said.

In truth, Samuel had barely had time to think about it. “You did seem more anxious than most to discuss my naval experience.”

“Meeting you at Lady Telford’s ball was a remarkable stroke of luck,” Cantrell said. “I have been searching for you for some time.”

Samuel blinked. “You have been searching for me?”

“Indeed. And though I traveled to Portsmouth to speak with Captain Westbrook and other members of your former crew, no one aboard the HMS Swan could give me any information on your current whereabouts.”

“I have had no contact with anyone in the navy since I left the ship,” Samuel said, unwilling to explain himself further. “Why were you searching for me?”

Cantrell did not answer. Instead, he leaned forward and asked a question of his own. “What can you tell me about Captain Oswald Lund?”

“He was one of the best men and captains I have ever known,” Samuel responded without hesitation. “His men respected him completely—as did those above him in the Admiralty. I would not be the man I am today without his example and tutelage.”

“Do you know anything of his background?”

“Only that he claimed Shropshire as his home. I do not believe he was ever married, but he never spoke of his family.”

Cantrell nodded slowly. “You are correct. He never married.”

“Did you know him?” Samuel asked.

“I never had the good fortune to meet him, but Mr. William Gooding, my predecessor at this firm, was the Lund family’s solicitor for many years. When Gooding retired, I took over the Lund family account.”