IT DIDN’T take him long once he’d emerged on deck to find the Lady Whitston-Reidey sitting among some of the other women, sipping tea and clucking like a flock of hens. He approached them with what he hoped was a warm smile. “Ladies, it’s a lovely mornin’, yes?”
“Indeed it is, Mr.—?”
“Stephens, Steven Stephens.” He bowed slightly. “My friends call me Sev.”
“And do you consider us friends, Mr. Stephens?” Lady Whitston-Reidey asked.
“I very much hope I can,” he answered. “May I?” He motioned to an empty seat. No one protested, so he sat. “I’ve heard some rather troubling news this morning.”
“No doubt you’ve heard there is a thief among us,” one of the other ladies stated.
“And that our poor Abigail is his latest victim,” yet another woman added.
“Latest?” Sev asked. “Ye mean there’ve been others?”
“Oh yes, Mr. Stephens. Our little cutpurse has been rather busy,” the first woman responded.
“However it is our great fortune that we now have a witness to the scoundrel’s shenanigans,” Lady Whitston-Reidey explained.
“Have we?” Sev asked. “That’s lucky. And who might this Good Samaritan be?”
“Why it’s none other than the good Dr. Avery. The famed surgeon from London,” the second woman answered proudly.
“Is it really?” Sev asked in mock awe. Famed surgeon? Oh, he just bet he was. “Well, I’d very much like to congratulate our benefactor. Do ye know where I might find the doctor?”
“I should think he’s at the whist table with the colonel and the other gentlemen. Celebrating,” Lady Whitston-Reidy answered.
“Celebrating?” Sev asked.
“Indeed. The thief shall be apprehended any moment now. The crew is already searching the cabins for the miscreant.”
“Excellent,” Sev said and stood. “It was very nice talkin’ t’ye, ladies, and lovely to meet all of ye. I must beg yer forgiveness now and excuse meself.” He tipped his hat as they murmured farewells and hurried to the whist table. Sev would have to count on Silas convincing the captain to call off the search.
He could go find Silas and the captain now. He could tell them about the man he was certain was only playing at being Dr. Avery from London. They could search the man’s cabin and find the stolen goods. Then they could throw the dirty bugger in the brig. Everything nice and neat.
But Dr. Avery had lied about Sev’s friend. He could have inadvertently ruined everything they had planned on this mission. No. Sev wanted to speak with Dr. Avery face-to-face, man-to-man. It was time for the good doctor to admit to his sins, and Sev would ensure he did just that. As he marched to the gaming room, Sev rolled up his shirtsleeves, hoping he might get to have a bit of fisticuffs this morning.
SEV APPROACHED the men playing cards slightly calmer than when he’d left the ladies. He put on what he hoped was a friendly expression and hailed them. “Good game, fellows?”
A general but friendly grumble of consent rose from the gathered players. Sev had planned on joining the men in their game, but they already had an even number of players, and while Sev didn’t know the exact rules of the game, he knew it was played in pairs. He opted for a different tack. “Mind if I pull up a chair and observe? I’ve always wanted t’learn t’play, but I’ve yet t’have the opportunity.”
“Whist is a game of the intellect, young man. It is a quiet and methodically scientific endeavor. We should not wish to be disturbed at our pastime,” a younger, dapper gentleman responded. He was impeccably dressed and spoke with obvious disdain.
Sev disliked him instantly. It was the same tone that Fairgate used when he spoke to servants. Sev felt himself getting angry again. He balled his fist at his side and forced his face to remain calm. “I promise t’be quiet. I won’t say a word.”
“Absolutely not,” the man responded. “Off with you.”
Sev gritted his teeth as he stood slowly. The older man to his left reached out and laid a hand on his arm. “Oh, come now, Avery. Let the poor boy stay and watch. What can it hurt?” The old man flashed a smile at Sev.
Avery flapped a hand in dismissal. “Oh, very well, but do be quiet.”
Sev sat again. “Thank ye, sir.”
“Colonel.” The old man offered his hand. Sev shook it. “Colonel Dunstan Billingsly.”
“Steven Stephens.”
“Watch a hand or two and maybe we can switch a player out so you can try. How’s that sound?”
“Good, sir. Thank ye.” Sev did just that, keeping a close watch on Avery. He didn’t like the way Avery’s gaze shifted back and forth. Guilty. Sev was certain of it. The colonel whispered rules and tips to Sev, but he wasn’t paying attention. He concentrated on Avery, searching for a clue, a chink in his seemingly cool, calm armor.
Sev was growing impatient. He needed some reason to interrupt the game, to call Avery out. Then he noticed something he could use. A spare deck of cards sat on an adjacent table, giving him an idea. While the men were busy shuffling and cutting their deck, Sev plucked the cards from the table and palmed them. “Wait,” he said. “What’s that ye’ve got?”
Avery regarded Sev with an expression of shock. “I’ve nothing. What are you on about?”
Sev stood, pointing at Avery the entire time as he walked toward the man, drawing everyone’s attention away from the hand that held the card deck. “Ye’ve been reachin’ int’yer pocket fer the last hand. What have ye got there?”
Avery stood to meet Sev, playing into his plan perfectly. “How dare you, sir?” Avery thrust his chin out indignantly, and Sev used Avery’s upward momentum against him, bumping into him. While Avery tried to push him off, Sev slipped his hand into Avery’s coat.
“What’s the meaning of this? Mr. Stephens. Dr. Avery. Cease this nonsense.” The colonel stood, and Sev heard the authoritative military tone replace the jovial-old-man tone he’d been using before.
Avery pushed Sev back, and Sev raised his hand with the newly acquired deck, prominently displayed. “What’s this, then?”
“That? I… that’s not mine. I have no idea how that got there!” Sweat beaded on Avery’s forehead.
“I demand an explanation, Dr. Avery!” the colonel shouted. The other men echoed his sentiments.
“This man is a fraud and a scoundrel!” Avery protested, pointing at Sev.
“I ain’t the fraud, Doc. Ye’re the one who’s a cheat and a thief,” Sev growled.
“What?” the colonel barked. “Thief?”
“You little mountebank! How dare you?” Avery lunged at Sev. Sev smiled; he had his fight. He blocked Avery too easily and threw him back, then followed through with a terrific punch to the jaw, knocking Avery to the floor and almost unconscious. During the scuffle, the colonel sent for a member of the crew. Sev kneeled, grabbing the thief by the lapels with one hand, and searched his coat with the other. Just as he suspected, he found a concealed pocket sewn into the lining. Sev ripped it out and caught a diamond necklace as it fell.
The colonel pulled Sev up by the collar and held him at arm’s length. “What’s the meaning of this, boy?”
Sev presented the necklace. “Taken from one o’the ladies on the ship. I’d lay money that if we search his cabin, we’ll find the rest o’the stolen items.”
“Well, I’ll be dipped,” the colonel said, releasing Sev. “Capital job, son. Capital job.” A few sailors ran into the room, and the colonel pointed at Avery. “That man is a cheat and a thief. I demand he be taken into custody.” The sailors nodded and hoisted Avery from the floor. He was still dazed, and they dragged him from the room.
A moment later Silas and the captain dashed in. “What’s the meaning of this?” the captain asked. “I’ve been told there’s a thief on board.”
“Indeed there is,” the colonel responded. “And thanks to this young man, he’s been apprehended.”
“He has?” Silas asked.
“It appears the good Dr.
Avery wasn’t so good after all,” the colonel responded.
“Assumin’ he’s the real Dr. Avery and not some kind o’imposter,” Sev added.
“Good point, Mr. Stephens, good point.” The colonel patted him on the back.
“Yer men took Avery away. Ye might want t’search his cabin.”
“It seems we all owe you a debt, Mr. Stephens,” the captain said, shaking Sev’s hand. “If there’s anything you need, please, don’t hesitate to ask.”
“Thank ye, Captain. But that man accused my fr—my assistant of his crimes. It was my duty t’clear his name.”
“Good man.” The colonel gave Sev another hardy clap on the back.
“Seems I have a cabin to search. Gentlemen.” The captain tipped his hat before turning to leave. They all politely acknowledged the captain’s departure.
“It seems we’re down a man,” the colonel said finally. “Fancy a game of whist, Mr. Stephens?”
Sev thought about it for a moment and shrugged. “I didn’t catch all the rules. If ye don’t mind if I ask some questions as we go?”
“Not at all, not at all.” The colonel threw an arm around Sev’s shoulders and led him to the table.
“Excuse me, Colonel,” Silas finally spoke after remaining mostly silent. “May I have a word with my client?”
“My lawyer,” Sev explained. “Give us a moment?”
“Of course, of course.”
When they were alone, Sev asked, “What d’ye need?”
“That could have gone horribly wrong, Sev.”
“Aye. But it didn’t. And Ratty gettin’ thrown int’the brig wouldn’t ’ave helped anyone.”
Silas regarded him doubtfully. “Just try to keep a more discreet profile from now on. We don’t need our ‘inventor’ running around getting into fistfights.”
“It was hardly a fistfight, Si—Mr. Jameson. It only took one hit.” Sev offered Silas his most endearing smirk.
Silas was obviously trying not to smile. He didn’t succeed. “Have fun with the colonel. He’s a drinker.” Silas tipped him a wink. “I’ll let Rat know he’s off the hook.”
“If the colonel’s a drinker, send Ratty down with a bottle o’somethin’.”
“You’re incorrigible.”
“Ye love it,” Sev whispered.
Silas rolled his eyes. “I’ll pass your instructions along, but I’d be surprised if the colonel hasn’t already sent someone to get you a celebratory bottle for being a hero.”
Sev shrugged. “Sounds good t’me.”
“Try to stay out of trouble.” Silas flashed Sev a grin before leaving him to play whist with the colonel and the others.
SILAS HADN’T been wrong. Just before Rat showed up with a bottle of Irish whiskey, the colonel’s man brought a bottle of champagne for each of the men at the table. The game of whist quickly degenerated into general drunken carousing, and after passing out near evening, Sev awoke with a headache and a new friend. The colonel sent for him to have breakfast, though they both woke well after ten in the morning despite the earlier than usual bedtime. They spent more than a few hours together during the day playing whist, which Sev was growing fairly good at, and in the evenings sharing drinks, while the colonel regaled them with war stories.
The whist games afforded Sev and his partners the perfect opportunity to organize an innocent “introduction” to the other two agents on the ship. Avery was safely stowed away in the brig, and all the stolen items had been found and returned to their respective owners. The captain held a special dinner in Sev’s honor and he, Rat, and Silas were invited to sit at the captain’s table. It was more attention than Silas was comfortable with, but refusing would only have drawn more attention of the negative kind.
After a few cover games of whist, Sev’s team and the other two agents began to meet in private to discuss and study the intelligence that had been gathered by Silas and his compatriots about the situation in the colonies. They reviewed maps and trade routes. There was apparently something called the Underground Railroad that wasn’t a rail system at all, but a way to smuggle slaves to relative freedom in the North.
They flipped through numerous files on prominent citizens: land barons, oil tycoons, and captains of industry. They researched scientists and inventors, rebels and malcontents, as well as politicians and philanthropists. Sev turned the pages of a stateside newspaper. The writing was mostly fluff with a few legitimate stories. It was obvious there was something they were trying not to report. But in the repression of truth, Sev found truth. “I think this Lincoln fellow is important.”
“Who’s that?” Silas asked.
“Abraham Lincoln. These papers go out of their way not to mention him, but he’s a capable lawyer, he’s run numerous times for office, and yet there’s barely any proper articles on him.”
“Hm.” Philson picked up a file. “He’s an outspoken opponent of slavery. I have some smaller newspapers from the North that say if they still elected presidents, he’d be a shoo-in.”
“We need to talk to him,” Sev stated.
“I think Sev’s right,” Silas agreed. “Put him on the list.”
10
FOR THE remainder of the voyage, Sev and Silas spent their days divided between time with the colonel and the other agents and their nights together in Silas’s cabin. It was almost the holiday Sev had originally hoped for. If he were completely honest with himself, he wished the voyage wouldn’t be over in a few days.
Sev and Silas strolled along the deck in the pale light of a crescent moon. The seas had been overly accommodating throughout the voyage, and with the exception of a rainstorm or two, the days and nights were as clear as tonight. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Silas asked.
Sev nodded. “Aye. Life at sea is one I could get used to.”
“Life at sea?” Silas asked.
Sev wanted to hold his hand. They leaned on the rail instead, gazing out over the black waters. “It’s freedom, isn’t it? The high seas. Have ye never read any stories of pirates and privateers?”
Silas frowned. “I’ve read accounts. Those men were monsters, scoundrels. Why would you want to be one of them?”
“I don’t know.” Sev shrugged. “Sailin’ about, not answerin’ to anyone, bein’ the master of yer own destiny. It’s appealin’. Don’t ye think?”
“I suppose I’d never thought of it like that.”
“Would ye be interested in it?”
“Being a pirate?” Silas straightened.
“No. Not exactly. I just mean travelin’. We wouldn’t have t’be pirates.”
“Oh. I don’t know.” Silas rested his elbows on the rail once more. “This has been a nice change, but I don’t know that I could live on a ship.”
“Aye. The air’s a bit too clean.”
Silas laughed. “That’s one thing I could get used to. What say we head back to my cabin?”
“I think that sounds like a fine idea.” Sev couldn’t wait to be alone with Silas. They only had one or two nights of this left, and Sev was determined not to waste them.
SILAS BARELY got the cabin door open before Sev embraced him, their lips connecting. They kissed vigorously, Silas’s back slamming the cabin door shut. They pawed and grabbed, peeling their coats and shirts off. “Sev,” Silas whispered, his need apparent in his tone.
“I know,” Sev answered, guessing what Silas wanted. He pushed Silas onto the bunk, where he traced Silas’s torso with his mouth. Silas pounded the wall with his clockwork arm. The metal resounded like a bell. “Shh,” Sev admonished.
“Sorry,” Silas hissed.
Sev undid Silas’s trousers, kissing the contrasting planes of his stomach muscles. Silas pulled Sev up. When their mouths met, Silas unbuttoned Sev’s pants. They lay pressed together in the bunk, their skin growing moist with sweat as they lavished attention on one another. Sev lost himself with the intensity, the passion. He couldn’t think. He gave himself over to the experience.
Minutes, hours pas
sed, Sev couldn’t be sure, but when they finally collapsed onto the bunk, their chests were heaving from exertion. Sev could feel the languid smile plastered across his lips, and he could only hope Silas had its twin. He drifted off to sleep, knowing that Rat would wake them before they could be discovered by anyone else.
HE DIDN’T need to. Sev awoke with a start, dreams of fire and screaming fading quickly as he regained consciousness. Waking like this was commonplace for Sev at one time, but the dreams brought on by the guilt of surviving Fervis’s ill-treatment when the rest of his family had perished had grown few and far between. Finding Silas had been a balm for his wounded soul, and when the dreams resurfaced, they seemed especially awful.
Sev sat up in the thin gray light of predawn. A fine, cold sheen of sweat coated his skin. He was relieved to find Silas still slumbering quietly next to him, happy that he hadn’t woken him. Sev sat with his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands, remembering. All the awful and wonderful memories that hovered just out of reach most days until they came flooding back like tonight. Father worked to death. Mother worked to death. His oldest sister murdered by Fervis. Four sisters and his brother killed in the fire he had inadvertently caused with the help of Fervis.
But Sev had taken his revenge on Fervis, hadn’t he? Only after Fervis had taken another loved one from him. Waverly. Tears rose heavy in Sev’s eyes as he remembered his best friend’s broken, bruised, bloody body in that dark stone anteroom. He took a deep breath to steady himself and scrubbed at his eyes.
He forced himself to remember the good times, the stolen moments in Fervis’s Auto-Cobblery when he, his siblings, and Waverly were able to actually forget they were slave laborers and could pretend they were just regular children. And Annie, poor Annie. She escaped that hell to perish in an even grimmer place. He wondered if he could still be considered a child. He couldn’t remember the last birthday he’d celebrated or even what day it should be celebrated. No. He would never be able to regain a fraction of his innocence. He had to raise his chin and press on. He couldn’t forget, and to be completely honest, he didn’t want to, but he wouldn’t allow it to hold him back.
The 7th of Victorica Page 9