“Lady Katharine,” he added, “I shall be pleased to share one-third of the Rosebriar’s prize, as we agreed at your father’s table.”
Katharine clasped her hands together in joy.
The Lord Admiral glanced at Captain Fletcher. “You’ll bring the Rosebriar in to Southampton, under my care.” He inquired of Katharine, “The vessel is conveying cinnamon, as I have been told, is it not?”
“And dyestuff,” she said, feeling the increasing stirrings of hope. “Brazil wood and logwood.”
“The cargo,” he said, “will be under Her Majesty’s seal.”
Katharine was afraid that she might have misunderstood, and she faltered. “Are you, my lord, impounding our shipment?”
Lord Howard looked authentically dismayed. For an instant he lost the jaunty if overbearing quality that matched the angle of his plumed cap, and he looked like an official exhausted nearly beyond patience.
“What ill-treatment you expect of Her Gracious Majesty,” he said.
Katharine put a hand on his arm. “These last days, my lord, have tested all of us.”
He gave her a fatigued but appreciative smile. “My lady Katharine, I am arranging to purchase the entire cargo on behalf of the Crown. I promise you that in her pleasure with Captain Fletcher’s brave service, the Queen’s price will be generous.”
Katharine allowed herself to feel happiness again. “You, my lord, are a godsend.”
“Perhaps,” said Lord Howard. “But Her Majesty will be pleased to have a monopoly on all the cinnamon and dyes in London for the next few months. Think what a profit she will make!”
AS THE ROSEBRIAR approached, Sherwin watched the gulls spin and wheel, touching down on their reflections in the shifting, mirrored blue of the sea.
If there was one shadow across his happiness, it was that his father would never know Katharine.
But as the crew of the Rosebriar heard the news of England’s victory, delivered in clear tones through Captain Fletcher’s speaking trumpet, they cheered. This happy sound reached back across the water, God save our Queen sounding like quite a different message.
The ring.
Give Katharine the ring.
The signet ring, with the greyhound symbol. If his father had been alive to speak, that would have been his message.
A GREAT PUFF of white appeared along the prow of the Rosebriar, the merchant vessel firing one of her forward guns. The sharp report of the brass piece resounded through the light afternoon winds, and Katharine was taken aback.
“It’s a salute,” Sherwin reassured her with a laugh, “a signal of joyfulness.”
As the Rosebriar swept forward, leaving her smoke to settle on the water, Sherwin placed a circlet of gold in Katharine’s hand.
Peril on the Sea Page 16