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“That particular seal was attached to a navigational device given to me by the captain, but since it was hidden in the index arm of the sextant, I had no idea of its existence. Another seal with the same coat of arms was stolen from the captain some months prior,” Cassio replied. He paused. “It has since occurred to me that he may have gifted the sextant in order to cast suspicion on me if treasonous letters surfaced.”

The captain turned his head to give his first mate an incredulous stare, but Cassio kept his eyes fixed on Lord Devin.

Called upon by the prosecutor, Frederick rose and stated that his butler had discovered the Tyron seal slotted into the index arm of a sextant on Cassio’s table.

Yet Cassio again insisted that he knew nothing of the seal attached to the sextant. Moreover, he had been gifted the sextant after the captain’s seal disappeared from his desk on board the Royal Oak.

“I did not inform Mr. Cassio of the seal attached to the sextant,” Captain Sir Tyron stated, confirming his account. “I thought to show him the trick of it after he changed his name to Tyron and married my … Miss Tyron.”

Cassio’s lip curled. “I didn’t bother to look closely at the sextant. I had no wish to marry Miss Tyron, and I shall never change my name.”

“Yet you allowed Captain Sir Tyron to believe that you were interested in this marriage?” Lord Devin asked.

“He was the captain of the Royal Oak, and I, along with the rest of the sailors, did our best to keep him in a cheerful mood.”

Livie watched as ruddy color faded from her father’s cheeks.

“What do you mean?” the prosecutor asked.

“On more than one occasion, the captain threw men overboard for minor infractions, telling them to swim behind the ship.” The chamber was utterly silent. “In at least one case, we could not rescue the sailor before sharks attacked.”

“That’s a damn lie!” the captain barked.

“His name was Jeremy Tulip,” Cassio said, still not looking at his master. “You’ll find his death listed as ‘misadventure.’ The captain left the deck directly after ordering the poor lad overboard and may not be aware of the outcome. He never paid much attention to the fate of his underlings.”

The prosecutor shot a look at Livie’s father that suggested he would soon be facing a charge of murder. “Are you saying that Captain Sir Tyron never queried whether Mr. Tulip had been safely rescued?”

“Never.” Cassio’s consciously sober expression struck Livie as deceptive, but on the other hand, she could easily imagine her father tossing a man overboard and dismissing the occasion from his mind. “Tulip was not the first to go overboard, but the only one I know of who did not return.”

“I am the master of my vessel!” the captain thundered. “I assure you that if this Tulip was lost to the deep—which I doubt—he was a miscreant who thoroughly deserved it! I consider myself stern but just, and any number of seamen who have served under me will assure you of that.”

“No one on board ever questioned the captain’s decisions,” Mr. Cassio said, entirely ignoring the captain’s bluster. “He was feared by all. Certainly I would never have angered him by admitting that I have no wish to marry his daughter. My life was at stake.”

Livie glanced around the room, horror surging in her chest.

“He’s very clever,” Lady Wharton said quietly.

“I had no idea that the captain had plans to bring enemy agents to England, but I was aware that his opinions of the Crown were … unflattering,” Cassio added.

“I have the utmost respect for His Majesty,” the captain growled. “I will admit that I did not always review letters I dictated as closely as I might have. The sentence in question may not have been written by me.”

“Yet you did review each letter before signing it,” Mr. Metrie prompted.

The captain’s head bobbed. Livie had the sense that he was suddenly—finally—aware of his danger. “I merely glanced,” he admitted. “They were unimportant missives, meant solely for Miss Tyron’s eyes.”

“Would you describe this language—‘The dark shore of the heart may engender fornications, murders and thefts’—as characteristic of letters sent to your daughter?” The prosecutor’s tone made it clear that he found the sentiment worthy of a pastor, not a father.

“I have always tried to direct Miss Tyron to the paths of righteousness,” the captain stated.

“This subject will be further discussed during Captain Sir Tyron’s trial before the House of Lords,” the Lord High Steward said. “This meeting is solely to determine Mr. Cassio’s involvement. The theft for which Mr. Cassio has been imprisoned has been shown to have no bearing on the case before us. He may be freed.”

“If you’ll forgive me, Your Lordship, we would like to summon one more witness,” Lord Devin announced.

Lord Paget frowned at him. “This is most irregular.”

“It was important that we first establish the fact that Mr. Cassio had no intention of marrying Miss Tyron.”

“I fail to see the relevance,” the judge complained.