“Well ye’re in the right of it there.” Griff nodded. “That peacock sure ain’t goin’ to haul you out o’ some of the fixes you get yerself into. Why I recollect when—”
“Ho, Lord Wivenly is that you?” A short, middle-aged man with salt and pepper hair strode toward him. “I’m Captain Jones.”
“Yes, sir. Are we ready to cast off?”
The captain directed an eye toward the water. “Just waiting for you, my lord.”
Shortly after noon the following day, the boat docked at Plymouth’s bustling port. Will descended to the pier wondering how, in all the hubbub, he’d find Andrew Grayson, an old friend who’d agreed to accompany Will, only to spy Andrew leaning up against a piling near the midsection of the ship.
“Handsomely done, Captain.” Andrew straightened and inclined his head to Jones. “You’ve arrived in good time. We’ve a change in our travel plans. Lord Wivenly will need his baggage transferred to the
Sarah Anne
as soon as may be.”
“Aha,” the captain called out in a satisfied tone, “so Captain Black’s going back again.” Jones grinned. “I win my wager. I’ll have it done straight away, Mr. Grayson.”
Will furrowed his brow. “How do you know Jones?”
Andrew cast a glance at the sky as if searching for patience. “My maternal grandfather’s in shipping, remember? I’ve spent time learning the business, as it will be mine.”
That was one of the main reasons Will had asked Andrew to accompany him to St. Thomas. They walked in the direction of the main dock area. “I didn’t know you planned on actually running the business. I thought you only wanted to be knowledgeable. Didn’t some aunt leave you a snug little property with an independence?”
“Yes,” Andrew nodded, “but my grandfather’s bound by the settlement agreements to leave the shipping line to me as the second son, and I like knowing how to control what I’m going to own.” He glanced back at Will with a raised brow. “Don’t tell me you’re worried I’ll smell of the shop? Shipping is as respectable as banking, and look at Lady Jersey. She spends a good amount of time at the bank her father left her.”
They reached another pier, where Andrew hailed a tall man with broad shoulders, who’d clearly been at sea for a while. “That’s Captain Black. His ship is one of the fastest you’ll find, even with cargo.”
“Mr. Grayson,” the captain grinned, “I see you’ve found his lordship, and in good time.”
“His gear will be here directly,” Andrew said, “Captain Jones is seeing to it.”
Captain Black turned his attention to Will. “Welcome aboard the
Sarah Anne
, my lord. I’ll have you in St. Thomas in no time at all.”
An hour later, Will stood near the bow of the ship, looking out over the water and trying to decided how to approach the problem his father had asked him to look into in St. Thomas. Though it would delay his exploration of the other islands, he knew that Watford’s protective arms encircled all of their family, no matter where they were located, and Will felt the same way. Anyone in the Wivenly family was his to care for.
Andrew joined him. “Have you decided how you will approach the problem yet?”
Will wished he had; the whole thing was deuced strange. He shook his head. “My original intent was to pay my respects to my great-uncle Nathan’s widow—funny that, Nathan was only a few years younger than my father—then meet with the manager, Mr. Howden. Yet after receiving the last letter from her, telling my father the business was failing, right on the heels of a report from Howden, showing it was as prosperous as ever, I don’t know what to think, or whom to trust.”
Andrew leaned against the rail. “Someone is being economical with the truth.”
An understatement if Will had ever heard one. “The question is, who? I can’t think of a reason my aunt would be dishonest. Her distress was clear from her letter. However, Howden has an impeccable reputation.”
Andrew frowned. “Could there be another actor?”
Now
that
was something Will hadn’t considered. “It’s possible. I’ll take great joy in making sure whoever is causing the problems will pay for their transgressions.”
He’d make sure of it.