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‘Why?’ She sounded reluctantly interested. ‘What would the punishment be?’
He took a mouthful of tea, wondering how graphic he ought to be with his answer. ‘Well, that would depend on the size of the lie. Answering back to an officer, for example, is punishable with a gagging. That means tying the offender up with an iron bar in their mouth. The same would follow for a small deception, but anything bigger and they’d be clapped in irons.’
‘Irons?’
‘Chained to the deck for everyone to see, at the mercy of the weather and waves.’
‘How cruel.’
‘That’s one of the most minor punishments, actually. Some captains tie men to the rigging for days. Then there’s flogging and “flogging around the fleet.”. That’s the worst punishment of all, but it’s reserved for the worst crimes, too.’
‘It sounds barbaric.’
‘It can be,’ he agreed. ‘There have been times when I wished I could have turned a blind eye to some misdemeanours, but a ship needs order.’
‘You make me glad that I only run a shop. I wouldn’t want to put Henrietta in irons just for one small lie. People make mistakes.’
He lifted an eyebrow, wondering if there was some hope of forgiveness for him after all. ‘You know, there’s a nautical term, Miss Fortini—to parley. It means a cessation of hostilities in order to discuss the terms of a truce. Perhaps we might consider something similar?’
She looked at him steadily for a long moment, then across the room towards her mother and his grandmother. ‘Perhaps we should since they’re getting along so well. Only that would imply the possibility of an eventual truce.’
‘Well...’ He sat forward, putting his tea aside and spreading his hands out in a conciliatory gesture. ‘If we were to discuss terms, since we’ve already discussed what happened with your assistant, perhaps you might be persuaded to accept my apology?’
Her whole body seemed to bristle at the statement.
‘Or...’ he hurried on ‘...to accept that I mean it, whether you can forgive me or not?’
‘All right.’ She spoke slowly, as if she suspected some kind of trick. ‘I can accept that, since you did make amends.’
‘Thank you. In return, I shall ignore all your insults about the aristocracy.’
‘You can ignore them all you want. It doesn’t mean—’
‘Ahem,’ he interrupted her. ‘Parley, Miss Fortini.’
She pursed her lips. ‘Oh, very well, but in that case we should simply agree to a state of parley without trying to establish an actual truce. We’ll never agree on terms.’
‘You might be right.’ He felt a twinge of disappointment, though under the circumstances a tentative cessation of hostilities was probably the best he could hope for. Perhaps it was for the best, too. The more time he spent looking into those brown eyes, the more entrancing he found them. The more he found himself interested in her, too. Given her feelings about the aristocracy, however, he very much doubted the feeling was mutual, and if she ever found out about his possible inheritance then he suspected that even parley would be impossible. She’d probably turn away from him on the spot. On balance, it was probably best not to be entranced... ‘That sounds like a compromise.’
‘But I’m only agreeing for my mother’s sake.’
‘Naturally.’ He leaned back against the sofa again. ‘Speaking of your mother, I understand that she suffers from some kind of illness?’
‘Yes. She has stiffness and swelling in her joints. It’s not so bad at the moment, but it can be very painful for her.’
‘I’m sorry to hear it.’ He glanced discreetly across the room. ‘I presume that she’s seen a physician?’
‘Yes. He tried blood-letting and leeches, all the usual things, but none of them did any good. Now he just prescribes the waters. He says that the symptoms can only be alleviated, not cured.’
‘It must be very difficult for her.’
Her chin jutted upwards defensively. ‘She’s perfectly content, Captain. My mother has no regrets about her choices in life, even despite her condition now. My father did everything he could to make her comfortable. Contrary to everyone’s expectations my parents were very much in love and happy together.’
‘I’m sure they were. Your father passed away, I understand?’
‘Yes, six years ago.’ A wistful look came over her face. ‘He and I used to do all the baking together.’
‘Surely you don’t do it all by yourself now?’
