cabin.” He bowed.
“What was all that chatter?” Adrian Leigh asked nervously when they were alone again. “You will give us away before we have even escaped.”
“I am supposed to be a garrulous old lady, and as such it is highly possible that I would know his family. It has put him off guard, Adrian. He doesn’t imagine for one moment that I’m not the old lady I am supposed to be.”
The Royal Charles moved out into the Pool precisely on schedule, and made its way majestically down the Thames with the outgoing tide toward the sea. India remained in her cabin once she entered it. She stood by the small porthole that looked out on the deck, and beyond it, the river. They passed by Greenwich, and the shipyards at Tilbury. The mid-February day was gray, although not stormy. India had thought when they had left Greenwood that she detected the faintest hint of spring in the air. How long would it be before she enjoyed another English spring and summer again? She felt the deep roll of their vessel as the Thames entered the Channel, realizing with singular clarity of mind that her course was set. She could not go back, and for the first time in her life India Lindley wondered if she had really done the right thing. Shivering, she drew her fur-lined cloak about her tightly.
Chapter 5
T he Royal Charles was a serious cargo vessel. It had left England with a load of wool and Cornish tinware in its deep holes. The ship made its way down the English Channel past Land’s End, and plotted a course across the Bay of Biscay. At Bordeaux it took on a consignment of red wine. It then sailed around Cape Finsterre, putting in at Lisbon, where it took on a cargo of hides. Hugging the coast for a time, it moved around Cape St. Vincent and into the Gulf of Cadiz, stopping at the city of Cadiz to take on baskets of oranges and lemons. They sailed through the Straits of Gibraltar, docking at Málaga to onload barrels of sherry. It was here that the other passengers, two Spanish wine merchants, debarked. They would next put into Marseilles to offload the wine and take on salted fish, and then sail on to Naples, Adrian informed India, having obtained his information from the captain.
India had not come out of her cabin since they had left London, except for short walks on the deck at night, well muffled in her veils. She was in deepest mourning, Adrian had explained to Captain Southwood, and preferred her solitude. She found the sea soothing.
Tom Southwood laughed. “We are fortunate to have had fine weather so far, Signore di Carlo, or Lady Monypenny would find the sea not quite so salubrious. I am sorry, however, that she will not take her meals with us. I found her a rather amusing old lady, outspoken and much like my late grandmother, Lady de Marisco.”
“Alas,” Adrian replied, “while my aunt’s spirit is soothed by the sea, her stomach is a bit more delicate, I fear.”
The weather had grown quite warm. They were in the narrowest part of the Mediterranean, Adrian told India. She was skittish, and would not allow him much time in her cabin or her company these days. He worried that she was regretting her actions, but India said nothing to that effect and so he believed her just nervous of travel. They would return overland when the day came, he decided, but for a quick cruise across the Channel.
They were several days out of Marseilles when the passenger steward sought out Tom Southwood. “Captain, may I speak with ye a moment?” The steward stood in the door of the main cabin.
“Come in, Knox. What is the problem?”
“Well, Captain, ’tis the lady . . . the one who is getting off in Naples. Ain’t she supposed to be an old lady, sir?”
“Aye.” Now, what was this all about? Tom Southwood thought.
“Well, Captain, she ain’t an old lady. She’s a young lady.” Knox looked very uncomfortable. “I was going by her cabin this afternoon, and I seen her sitting on her bunk, brushing her hair. I stopped
“What was all that chatter?” Adrian Leigh asked nervously when they were alone again. “You will give us away before we have even escaped.”
“I am supposed to be a garrulous old lady, and as such it is highly possible that I would know his family. It has put him off guard, Adrian. He doesn’t imagine for one moment that I’m not the old lady I am supposed to be.”
The Royal Charles moved out into the Pool precisely on schedule, and made its way majestically down the Thames with the outgoing tide toward the sea. India remained in her cabin once she entered it. She stood by the small porthole that looked out on the deck, and beyond it, the river. They passed by Greenwich, and the shipyards at Tilbury. The mid-February day was gray, although not stormy. India had thought when they had left Greenwood that she detected the faintest hint of spring in the air. How long would it be before she enjoyed another English spring and summer again? She felt the deep roll of their vessel as the Thames entered the Channel, realizing with singular clarity of mind that her course was set. She could not go back, and for the first time in her life India Lindley wondered if she had really done the right thing. Shivering, she drew her fur-lined cloak about her tightly.
Chapter 5
T he Royal Charles was a serious cargo vessel. It had left England with a load of wool and Cornish tinware in its deep holes. The ship made its way down the English Channel past Land’s End, and plotted a course across the Bay of Biscay. At Bordeaux it took on a consignment of red wine. It then sailed around Cape Finsterre, putting in at Lisbon, where it took on a cargo of hides. Hugging the coast for a time, it moved around Cape St. Vincent and into the Gulf of Cadiz, stopping at the city of Cadiz to take on baskets of oranges and lemons. They sailed through the Straits of Gibraltar, docking at Málaga to onload barrels of sherry. It was here that the other passengers, two Spanish wine merchants, debarked. They would next put into Marseilles to offload the wine and take on salted fish, and then sail on to Naples, Adrian informed India, having obtained his information from the captain.
India had not come out of her cabin since they had left London, except for short walks on the deck at night, well muffled in her veils. She was in deepest mourning, Adrian had explained to Captain Southwood, and preferred her solitude. She found the sea soothing.
Tom Southwood laughed. “We are fortunate to have had fine weather so far, Signore di Carlo, or Lady Monypenny would find the sea not quite so salubrious. I am sorry, however, that she will not take her meals with us. I found her a rather amusing old lady, outspoken and much like my late grandmother, Lady de Marisco.”
“Alas,” Adrian replied, “while my aunt’s spirit is soothed by the sea, her stomach is a bit more delicate, I fear.”
The weather had grown quite warm. They were in the narrowest part of the Mediterranean, Adrian told India. She was skittish, and would not allow him much time in her cabin or her company these days. He worried that she was regretting her actions, but India said nothing to that effect and so he believed her just nervous of travel. They would return overland when the day came, he decided, but for a quick cruise across the Channel.
They were several days out of Marseilles when the passenger steward sought out Tom Southwood. “Captain, may I speak with ye a moment?” The steward stood in the door of the main cabin.
“Come in, Knox. What is the problem?”
“Well, Captain, ’tis the lady . . . the one who is getting off in Naples. Ain’t she supposed to be an old lady, sir?”
“Aye.” Now, what was this all about? Tom Southwood thought.
“Well, Captain, she ain’t an old lady. She’s a young lady.” Knox looked very uncomfortable. “I was going by her cabin this afternoon, and I seen her sitting on her bunk, brushing her hair. I stopped
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