of another vessel caught by night and a British blockade, wrapped by flames and the shrieks of dying men.
Gordon’s attention remained upon the ship at anchor. “The men of Marblehead did not sink her, which of course is easier than capture. They strike for profit. Which means they had to take her intact. They might be smugglers, but they are also fine seamen and warriors both.”
She shivered. “I want nothing to do with them.”
“You no doubt shall have your wish, though we could well do with more experienced hands.” He gestured to where some sailors loitered outside a tavern. “These men sail for profit, as I said. There will be precious little gain from taking us upon a voyage where speed and stealth are what we require—and all we can offer.”
As they rounded the harbor entrance Gordon stood up in the wagon. “I say, that is my ship!” he exclaimed. “They’ve repaired all sign of her capture. See the new wood along the portside? That’s as fine a bit of joinery as I’ve ever seen. Why, she might as well have been repaired in Portsmouth!”
Nicole hid her smile at his boyish excitement. Then she noticed several places where bright new wood signaled repairs, and she imagined the thunder of cannons as they crashed through the hull, the fire and terror and death. … She shook her head quickly to clear away those awful scenes.
The quayside was a spit of land extending out from the village like an arrowhead. Gordon called to an officer standing watch over a group of scurrying laborers. “I say, good sir. Could you tell me where I might find the harbormaster?”
“You are addressing him now.”
Gordon leaped lightly out of the wagon to the rocks. “Captain Gordon Goodwind at your service, sir.”
“Goodwind, as in master of yon vessel?”
“The same.”
The man growled. “You are three days late in arriving, sir.” “And well I know it. But the roads and arranging lastminute details delayed our departure. I hope I have not added to the difficulties of your job.”
“Not you, sir. Not you. But the work commissioned by the general—I declare it has almost been the death of me.”
Gordon looked over his ship. “They have done a fine piece of work on the repairs nonetheless.”
“Only because I have stood over them with musket and threats both!” He shook his head in ire. “The only way I could get cooperation was by refusing them permission to even board their own vessels until the work was under way. A more avaricious and spiteful clan I have never encountered!”
“They work for profit.”
“They work for themselves and none other!” the officer shouted, his face red with anger. “I have begged and pleaded to be freed of this posting. The war is waning and I am trapped in a backwater filled with smugglers and thieves!”
Gordon stripped off his glove and held out his hand. “I am most grateful for your work and for requiring theirs.”
“Randolf Nettleton. Forgive me, Captain. But it has been a harsh and loathsome duty your commandant laid upon me.”
“I will be writing the general a note, bringing him up-to-date concerning my departure. Perhaps you would be so kind as to deliver it in person. I could then make mention of your desires and ask his help for your transfer as a personal favor.”
“You would do that? For a perfect stranger?”
Gordon waved his hand toward the ship as he said, “I have difficulty just now seeing anything other than a job well done. The fact that you have endured much to complete this task only places me further in your debt.”
“I am quite—”
“Say nothing further on the subject, my friend. But please suggest where we might find a berth for the night, and supplies for the coming journey.”
“A berth is no problem. All three of the inns you see facing the harbor are clean and commodious, at least for those with money.” He dropped his voice. “As for supplies, they are here, but precious dear.”
“I must secure food and
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