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a moment. “Penny is at turns sweet and baffling. One moment eager to grow up, the next holding on to girlhood. I will say, she has taken excellent care of her younger sisters. It’s a heavy responsibility for one so young.” Charles paced the small cell, hands behind his back. “Then there’s Thea. I’ve never met a more observant person, child or not. She’s perceptive and quick. Smart as can be, and absolutely fearless. She’s the one I worry about the most. I fear she’s in for some disappointments and futile battles, she’s so independent. Doesn’t think being a girl should hold her back from doing anything she wants.”

“Hmm, that sounds familiar. I am eager to introduce her to my wife. They sound like twin souls.” Marcus crossed his arms. “I will say, I’m glad Sophie married you.”

“You are?” Charles asked, stopping his pacing to spread his hands wide, encompassing his bleak surroundings. “I would have thought you would be questioning her sanity.”

Marcus smiled. “Actually, I’m quite pleased. I thought Sophie might wear the willow for Rich for the rest of her life. She’s fiercely loyal like that. I’m glad she found someone else to love. Much like Rich, when she loves, Sophie will take a bullet for you.” Marcus’s stare pierced Charles right through. “But she’ll also shoot a few on your behalf. She’s out in the carriage right now, worried but ready to go to battle. That tells me her heart is fully yours.”

Rockets of heat and light burst in his head and chest. Could it be true? Sophie loved him? Enough to fight for him?

“You look stunned. Surely you know she loves you?”

Charles tried to loosen his cravat, until he realized he wasn’t wearing one. “Of course. She’s my wife, after all.” His voice sounded strained. “Tell her …” He stopped. “Give her my regards.”

“That’s a tame way of putting things. It’s plain as a pikestaff that you love her in return. Have you never told her?”

C

HAPTER

14

SITTING DAY AFTER day in that cramped, musty cell, Charles thought he might lose his mind. When his incarceration stretched into a second week, he was ready to dig an escape tunnel.

“It all starts tomorrow.” His solicitor, Mr. Coles, set a bandbox on the floor. “The magistrate approved me bringing you this, and the guards have searched it. Your wife sent clean clothing and your shaving kit. Get tidied up and looking respectable before they bring you into the dock.”

“Where has Haverly been? I haven’t seen him all week.” Charles couldn’t imagine what had kept his brother-in-law away. He’d come every day for the first five, then disappeared.

“He’s working on your case. As am I. His Grace has gone to Portsmouth following a lead. Now, I must go, but Mr. Allard here has a few questions, just to ensure that we’re well prepared for the morrow.” The bald-headed solicitor bowed and left the jail.

Mr. Allard, Charles’s barrister, sat at a small table in the area in front of the cells, quill in hand, in the glow of a small lantern. “Now tell me again where you found the note.”

It had been baffling to Charles that he needed two lawyers, a solicitor and a barrister, until Marcus explained that only a barrister could act for him in court. A solicitor handled all non-court-related points of law, but when one was really in trouble—say incarcerated and facing the noose if convicted—a barrister was needed. Mr. Allard insisted they go over everything again. And again. Either the barrister was very thorough, or he was completely out of ideas and just filling time.

Finally, the gray-haired man packed his papers and picked up the lantern. “Oh, I almost forgot. Your wife gave me a letter for you.”

Charles snatched the paper. Sophie hadn’t been allowed to see him, and he missed her greatly. She invaded his dreams, and when he woke, it was to such longing and emptiness, he hardly recognized himself.

“I’ll leave the door open so you will have light.” Mr. Allard sent him a knowing smile. “Your wife is quite a woman. Very loyal and staunch in your defense. And, I might add, quite charming. She gave me a thorough examination, wanting to know my credentials, my record in cases like yours, and what I planned to do to get you released.”

An excited weakness flowed through Charles, and he could just imagine Sophie putting the barrister through her version of the Inquisition.

Before he could open the letter, Admiral Barrington entered the jail.

“Charles, how are you faring? Holding up?”

Resplendent in gold braid and brass buttons, the admiral seemed to take up all the space in the small room.

“I’m weathering the storm, sir.” Charles stood at attention, saluting his superior officer.

“Yes, well, I think, under the circumstances, we can dispense with all that. You’re an earl now, Wyvern.”

“I’m still a captain in the Royal Navy, sir.” Charles paused. “Aren’t I?”

“We’ll discuss that at a later date. For now, I have news. Alastair Lythgoe has arrived and will manage your estate in your absence. He’s a top man. I’ve just been dining with your wife. Well done getting spliced to such a fine young woman. She’s got a bit of Tartar in her too, doesn’t she? She will accept no other outcome than that you are exonerated with all speed.”

“I believe she gets that fierceness from her mother, sir,” Charles said.

“I came down the coast on a Revenue cutter, and between the Duke of Haverly, Lythgoe, and myself, we’ve come up with a plan to scoop up the real culprits the moment this trial is over.” Barrington dug in his pocket for his pipe.

“As long as I get to take part.” Charles’s hopes lifted.

“Very good.” He patted his pockets for his tinder case. When he lit the pipe, clouds of smoke wreathed his head, and he blinked. “I cannot believe the Royal Navy, the most powerful fleet in the world, is reduced to hunting petty criminals, but there you are. We’ll do the job,

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