Sons of Liberty by Christopher G. Nuttall

of the ways of the world, no awareness of life outside your home and no understanding of men. That is what they expect you to be, Raechel, and that is the impression you are going to cultivate. People always talk much more openly when they think they can't be understood.”

    Raechel scowled. “Is there no way I can be like Lady Gwen?”

    “ If you want to dominate the social scene by sheer force of personality, backed up by money, I suppose you could,” Irene snapped. “But if you want to get something useful done, it’s better to be underestimated. A naive young ingénue is so much more attractive to a man than a foul-mouthed woman who shows off her intelligence to all and sundry.”

    “ Fine,” Raechel said. “I’ll do what I can.”

    She was almost relieved, an hour later, when the dinner bell rang and they made their way up to the officer’s mess. Gwen was already there, chatting to a young military officer about Russia and the Mad Tsar; she nodded politely to Raechel and Irene, then returned to her conversion. Raechel couldn't help wondering if Colonel Jackson was flirting with Gwen, even though she was the Royal Sorceress. They had certainly spent a great deal of time playing chess in the passenger’s lounge.

    “ Lady Raechel,” Fredrick said. He rose to pull a chair out for her. “I trust the day has gone well?”

    “ I have been sewing,” Raechel lied. Her mother - and then her aunt - had tried to insist that she learned how to sew, on the grounds it was a ladylike skill, but she hadn't had the patience to master it. “My chaperone has been feeling a little under the weather.”

    She didn't miss the flicker of interest in Fredrick’s eyes, although she’d been careful to look for it. He was really too young to mask his emotions well, even though he had been a serving naval officer since he’d turned thirteen. The Royal Navy might allow aristocrats to purchase commissions, but even the scions of the richest and most powerful families had to start out as midshipmen. Lord Nelson had insisted on it, when he’d become First Lord of the Admiralty, and no one had the power to overrule him. The young men had to learn the basics before climbing to higher ranks.

    And Fredrick wants a ship of his own, Raechel thought. He was young, but a good recommendation from his commander - and aristocratic backers - would put him in an excellent position to win command of one of the new ironclads. Or even a sailing ship, even though she wouldn't last five minutes against an ironclad. Maybe that’s why he’s interested in me.

    Dinner was a quiet affair, as she’d expected; Captain Bligh led prayers, then chatted quietly to one of the military officers while eating. The food had grown progressively duller over the last few days, although Irene had insisted that she had to eat properly just so she could do her exercises in her cabin. Raechel doubted she would ever be a strong woman - Irene had told her that there were farmwives who were stronger than artillerymen - but she would have a surprise or two for anyone who tried to grab her. Concealing a knife in a dress was easier than it seemed.

    “ I need to go back to the cabin,” Irene said, when the main course was finished. “Take care to hurry back as soon as you can.”

    Or don’t, Raechel thought. Technically, Irene was meant to be with her every time she set foot out of the cabin. There was no hope of a private conversation with Fredrick as long as Irene was nearby. But now ... Irene had left, just as she’d promised. I’m on my own.

    She chatted to Fredrick, feeling her heart starting to pound in her chest. It had been easy enough to signal interest to Captain Parker, but Fredrick? She had no idea what he would make of any signals she sent, particularly while they were in the dining compartment. And he might want to go too far ... it was funny, part of her mind reflected, just how easy it had been to allow Parker to seduce her, back when there had