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‘Mrs Langdale, Jamie,’ the Duke corrected.
‘I gave him leave to call me Jo, Your Grace.’
He finally looked at her, his grey-green eyes reflecting a mixture of annoyance and resignation. Despite the significantly more comfortable accommodations of the past night, he still looked tired and she realised it was not merely the long trip that was taking its toll on him. The closer they came to their destination, the stonier he became, as if gathering himself against an incoming blow. She waited for him to insist on formality, but he merely shrugged and stood.
‘I must speak to Angus. I will send him to find you when we are ready to depart.’
The silence that followed his departure was disturbed only by the thud-thud of Jamie’s foot kicking the table leg. She breathed in to calm herself.
‘Why doesn’t Papa like you?’
Jo straightened, surprise and hurt pinching at her insides. It was one thing to know it; it was quite another to hear the truth from the mouth of babes.
‘I think perhaps he likes having you to himself, Jamie.’
Jamie’s kicking stopped.
‘Will he like you better if I call you Mrs Langdale?’
‘I don’t know, Jamie. I do not think that is the problem. Come, we should find your coat if we are to be ready to leave. Will you show me the crow’s nest when we arrive at the boat?’
Jamie nodded, but half-heartedly, and jumped off his chair.
* * *
It was not quite the great ship she had been imagining. It had only two sails and, according to Jamie, no crow’s nest.
‘Why can’t we sail on that ship, Papa?’ Jamie pointed to a much larger three-masted ship anchored further out on the swelling waves.
‘Because that ship is not sailing close to our home, Jamie.’
Jamie’s eyes lit.
‘Where is it going, Papa?’
The Duke looked down at his son and the stern look gentled a little.
‘I’m afraid that is on my Great Big List of Things I Don’t Know. Where would you like it to sail?’
‘Zanzibar!’
‘Why Zanzibar?’
‘It has a pretty name. There are dragons there, too.’
‘Dragons?’
‘Yes, remember? You showed me Zanzibar in the Map Room and there was a green and yellow dragon sitting on the waves, poking it with its tail.’
Whatever answer the Duke was contemplating was interrupted as Angus beckoned them towards the ship. Jo approached the vessel with a little trepidation. The wind had picked up and the clouds were moving along the horizon, shifting as they went like rising smoke. The ship itself was rocking and she wished she could cling to something or someone as they made their way across the damp deck towards a doorway set into a raised platform in the rear of the ship.
‘Jamie and I will stay above deck, Mrs Langdale, but Angus will take you to a cabin where you may rest. It will not be a long voyage to Crinan, but it might be a little rough with the north wind so stay close to something you can hang on to.’
‘Wouldn’t you prefer to leave Jamie with me?’
‘Jamie fares better in the fresh air.’ The answer was curt and he turned away, holding Jamie’s hand.
Jo had no choice but to follow Angus down what was more ladder than steps into the dark and narrow passageway and into an equally narrow cabin. It had no window, a narrow cot and a small table and chair with a chamber pot attached to the wall with a chain. She nearly told Angus she, too, preferred to face the elements above decks than in the coffin-like space, but years of practice made her keep her peace and she smiled and thanked him and went to sit on the chair and took off her bonnet and prepared herself for a very boring few hours.
Chapter Seven
Benneit braced his leg against the coil of rope and wrapped his boat cloak more securely around Jamie’s body so that only his dark hair and eyes were visible above the thick fabric.
‘Here comes another!’ Jamie’s words were muffled, but the excitement was evident in the tension of his quivering body.
The wave rose, the water pulling out from under them, causing the ship to pitch to the side a moment before the wall of water struck, sending a fine cold mist over them, pearling on Jamie’s curls. Jamie bounced and crowed with pleasure, almost cracking Benneit’s chin as he bent to press a kiss to his son’s damp head.
