by Laura Landon
“Callie, I wonder . . .” Ford’s voice faded as he mulled over the question that was forming in his mind.
“Wonder what?”
“Well, I wonder what it was that made you realize you had a problem in the first place? When you first asked for my assistance, you knew you were having a problem with declining profits. What made you suspicious that it wasn’t just the normal ebb and flow of commerce?”
Callie huffed, as if embarrassed. “It was stupid of me. Colossally stupid. I believed the shortfall came from declining prices in China and India. But I have recently begun watching reports that Grandfather said to ignore, and I discovered that prices are actually strong in both China and India. In fact, they’ve even risen slightly. So naturally, I expected to see that reflected in our profits. But it wasn’t.”
“Ah. I see. Do you have the bills of lading that match the entries in your ledgers?”
Lady Calinda rose to get the papers he needed from a separate file. “Please,” she said when she returned with the papers. “Use my desk. It will give you more room to work.”
Ford sat in her chair and studied the figures before him. He went back three years. It didn’t take long to come to the same conclusion Calinda had come to. The profits from each voyage had steadily declined.
“Do you have the bills of lading from say . . . four years ago?” he asked. “From before you realized profits were decreasing?”
“Yes.”
She went to another file and removed two more stacks of papers. “These are the receipts from one year ago,” she said, placing one stack on his right. “And these are the receipts from two, three, and four years ago. I can go back further if you like.”
“This will do for now.” Ford looked around, then brought over a chair and put it beside his. “Please, sit down. I’ll need you to help me.”
She sat, and he explained what he wanted her to do, all the while trying to ignore her nearness. He tried to pretend that he wasn’t affected by the clean scent of rosewater or the soft sighs she released as she read over the papers he handed her. He told himself over and over that he had a job to perform and that continuously thinking about Callie Barclave would only get in the way of what he had to do. But nothing he said stopped his thoughts from wandering.
She was special. More than special. He’d never met anyone as unique as she was. One had to admire her intelligence and her business acumen. The harsh events in her life had only served to toughen her and make her an independent person who could manage any situation. Those qualities drew him to her, and he wanted to get to know her even more.
“What is it?”
Ford looked up from the papers in front of him. “Hm?”
“What is it, Ford? You’ve been holding that piece of paper for five minutes. Have you found something?”
Ford felt a rush of heat up the back of his neck. “It’s nothing. Sorry to have raised your hopes.” He smiled and passed the page to another pile.
Eventually, Ford forced himself to concentrate. He went through the bills of lading from three years ago and made notes of the cargoes that came in. At the fringes of his comprehension, something seemed wrong, but he was unable to put his finger on what it was.
He rose and studied the three stacks of papers in front of him.
“What?” she asked.
Ford pointed to the stack that contained the bills of lading from three years ago. “Go through these and separate them by ship. Make one stack for the Wayward. One for the Argos. And one for the Night’s Lady.”
She reached for the stack he’d pointed to and separated them. Ford reached for the bills of lading from two years ago and separated them. Then they organized the bills of lading from one year ago. And those from this year.
There weren’t that many of each—only two at the most—since it was impossible for each ship to make more than two trips to India or China in one year.
“What do you hope to find?” Callie asked when they finished.
“I’m not sure. So far everything appears normal. Except for the decline in profits.”
“What should we do now?”
Ford stood at the desk and rolled his shoulders. He was stiff from sitting so long. “Where is your shawl? Let’s walk to the docks. I think I’d like to speak with Captain Fletcher again.”
“Of course,” Callie said, reaching for her shawl and wrapping it about her shoulders.
They left the office and walked to the docks, past several moored ships, then a short distance farther to where the Night’s Lady was docked. When they reached the ship, they made their way up the gangplank and strolled across the deck.
“Is Captain Fletcher aboard?” Callie asked one of the crewmen who sat on a barrel repairing a tear in a sail.
“Yes, my lady. He’s below. You want me to fetch him for you?”
“Yes, please.”
“’Twould be my pleasure.”
The sailor scurried off, and a few moments later, Captain Fletcher came on deck. “Lady Calinda, what a pleasure.” Fletcher turned to Ford. “Good day, Captain. I knew you’d be back. No one with your appreciation for our clippers can stay away long.”
A smile brightened Callie’s face, and Ford studied the handsome captain who seemed very adept at putting ladies at ease.
“You’re right about that,” Ford answered. “And I’ll no doubt have to return with the admiral when he wants to come down.”
“I always look forward to the admiral’s visit. His love for the sea is powerful, and genuine.”
“Yes,” Callie said, then changed the subject. “How are things progressing? Are you nearly unloaded?”
The captain smiled. “Yes, my lady. We have a few minor repairs to make before we can set sail again, but they shouldn’t take long. And there’s always haggling over the cost of food. The merchants drive a hard bargain when they know you can’t waste a lot of time bartering. You know how it is.”
“Yes,” Callie said, then turned to Ford. “As you know, Captain Remington was interested in seeing a clipper up close. I explained that you knew everything there was about shipping and would take him on a tour of the Night’s Lady. Have you the time?”
“Of course. I’d be honored.”
Ford looked at Captain Fletcher, and although he sounded agreeable to Lady Calinda’s suggestion, his eyes didn’t portray the same eagerness. “You returned with a cargo of tea, didn’t you, Captain?”
“Yes. We’re still in the process of unloading our cargo. Tea from China is the most sought-after commodity. It brings the highest price. Especially at this time of year. The May picking is the freshest.”
“Would you mind if we went below deck? I’d like to see where the tea is stored.”
“Of course.”
Ford turned to Lady Calinda. “Would you like to join us?”
“I’ll let you and Captain Fletcher go below. I’d rather stay on deck.”
Ford nodded, then followed Captain Fletcher as he led the way to the hold.
“How many chests of tea did you bring back with you?” Ford asked when they reached the hold.
“Twelve thousand two hundred and fifty-eight.”
“Is that as much as the Night’s Lady can carry?”
“That’s an average load, although there have been times when we’ve carried more.”
“What determines the number of chests you can haul?”
“It depends on the other goods we’re transporting. There’s also a huge demand for silk and porcelain. We brought nearly a thousand bales of silk with us this trip.”
Ford stepped closer to watch as the crew unloaded the chests of tea. Captain Fletcher followed him.
“What is it they’re doing?”
“They’re removing wooden shingles from the cargo. We carry more than one hundred fifty ton of shingles to pack between the sides of the hold, as well as between the chests to secure them in place. The slightest shift in cargo can be disastrous for a clipper, and the shingles hold the chests f
ast.”
Ford stepped to the other side of the hold and watched the intense work that went into unloading a cargo of tea. He bent down to pick up one of the shingles and studied it, amazed at its essential use.
As he bent to place the wooden shingle back on the pile, a scrap of something on the floor caught his eye. It seemed so out of place in the tidy hold that he snatched it up, and the expression on Captain Fletcher’s face when he saw what Ford had discovered told him it was something worth holding on to.
Ford placed the odd remnant in his pocket and kept himself out of the way of the porters while he and Captain Fletcher watched the unloading process a little while longer. When the crew was nearly finished, he and the captain went on deck.
Callie was waiting for him, and he gave her his arm. But when he turned to thank the captain for showing him below, the man was nowhere to be found. Ford mulled that fact over as he and Callie walked back to the office.
“Were you impressed?” she asked.
“How can one not be? The only thing better than having the opportunity to tour a clipper would be to actually sail aboard one.”
A smile lit her face that caused Ford’s heart to shift in his chest. “You’ve had the same thought, haven’t you?” he said.
His words weren’t meant as a question, because he already knew the answer. He could tell by the look on her face that she’d dreamed of sailing aboard a clipper.
“I’m not sure it’s possible to love the sea and the ships that navigate upon it without wanting to sail aboard one of the most magnificent ships ever built.”
“You’re right, of course.”
It was nearly time for afternoon tea when they reached the shipping office. “Do you have plans for this evening?” he asked while Callie gathered her cloak and closed up the office.
“Thankfully, no. I will enjoy staying home for an evening.”
Ford looked at the ledgers and the bills of lading they’d separated earlier. “Would you mind if I take these with me? I’ll bring them back in the morning, but I’d like to study them tonight.”
“Of course.” She stacked everything together and tucked them into a leather satchel. They left the office and walked to the carriage that waited to transport Lady Calinda home. She offered him a ride, and he stepped in behind her.
“Are you thinking that someone might be stealing from Crown’s?” she asked after the carriage lurched forward.
Ford thought how to answer. “I am. Except I can’t figure out how. No one has access to the books, or to the funds except you, do they?”
Callie’s eyes opened wide. “No. I’m the only one.” Her fingers twisted in her lap before she spoke. “Surely you don’t think I might be the one stealing from the company.”
Ford smiled, then settled next to her. “No, I don’t believe you have anything to do with the company’s loss.”
“If not me, then who? No one touches the money except me. And of course the officials in the foreign ports. But truly, Captain, Grandfather has always felt the Chinese officials are above reproach.”
Ford took the liberty of placing his arm behind her shoulders. “Don’t worry. No one suspects you of mismanaging the funds.”
“But I’m the only person who—”
Ford brought her closer to him and placed a soft kiss on her forehead when she rested her head against his shoulder. “Trust me,” he whispered when the worry lines remained on her forehead. Then, he placed his fingers beneath her chin and lifted. When her gaze was locked with his, he lowered his head and kissed her.
Ford was aware of the dangers he was walking into. Kissing her in the romantic moonlight was one thing. Kissing her in a carriage without a chaperone in broad daylight was a more reckless display of his emotions.
Oh, he wasn’t concerned that she’d misconstrue his intentions. Not for the first time, he considered what he felt for Callie, and his sentiments far surpassed liking her. He just wasn’t sure that he could say he loved her. But he definitely cared for her. And from the way she returned his kisses, it was obvious that she cared for him, too.
What concerned him, though, was how she’d feel if she ever discovered that their meeting wasn’t accidental but that he’d been sent by Her Majesty to investigate some kind of commercial skullduggery. That he’d used her to gain access to the shipping office and the ledgers she kept. That he’d lied to her. Intentionally deceived her.
He deepened his kiss. He simply couldn’t let her discover how he’d taken advantage of her. It would be unbearably cruel.
And for the first time, he considered the cruel blow he would suffer if he lost her.
He kissed her again, then lifted his mouth from hers when the carriage slowed.
“The carriage will take you home,” she said as he walked her to the Earl of Dunhurst’s townhouse. “And Grandfather and I will come for you in the morning.”
“I’ll look forward to it,” Ford answered. He turned to go back to the waiting carriage with a broad smile on his face.
He’d dream of the blush on her face and the rosy glow to her cheeks the entire night.
CHAPTER 8
Callie fought the rushing beats of her heart as it raced inside her breast. It was only Ford Remington walking toward her, for pity’s sake. Surely she should be over him by now. But in truth, his handsome looks weren’t the only cause of this strange sensation. His smile made her flush. His natural courtesy made her feel special. And his quick humor had her laughing with an ease she’d long forgotten.
It had been less than fifteen hours since she’d last seen him, and she’d missed being with him as if it had been fifteen days. Or fifteen weeks.
How had she allowed herself to get to this point? She’d vowed she’d never risk her heart again, yet that’s exactly what she was doing.
The carriage door opened, and the captain entered. “Good morning, my lady.”
“Good morning, Captain.”
He looked inside the carriage. “Did you come alone?”
“Yes. The admiral said after spending yesterday visiting with his friends, he needed the day to recuperate.”
Callie lowered her gaze to her lap to hide the smile that lifted the corners of her mouth. The admiral didn’t need a day to rest any more than she did. He was playing matchmaker and had stayed home intentionally to give her and the captain some privacy.
“I take it you don’t believe him?”
Callie lifted her smiling eyes and caught the grin that drew roguish planes across the captain’s face. “The admiral has never needed to take a day to rest in his life.”
The captain’s grin broadened, then a hearty laugh echoed in the confines of the carriage, sending a host of butterflies fluttering beneath her breastbone.
It wasn’t fair that Ford Remington should be so startlingly handsome. Just as it wasn’t wise for her to have developed such feelings for anyone so attractive. Hadn’t she learned her lesson on that score?
“Did you find anything interesting in the ledgers?” She glanced at the leather satchel beside him. “Anything that might tell us what is going on?”
He shook his head. “But I will. Whoever is behind your losses is an expert at covering up his theft.” He thought for a moment, then asked his next question. “How do you receive payment for the goods you sell to China?”
“In bank notes that come in a locked chest. There is a seal placed over the lock that I break when the chest is delivered.”
“Is it possible for anyone to break the seal and remove a portion of the funds, then reseal the chest?”
Callie shook her head. “There is a matching seal on the receipt that states the amount in the chest as well as an itemized list of the cargo. The amount of bank notes has always matched the receipt.”
Before the captain could ask more, the carriage slowed to a stop before Crown’s Shipping, and she and the captain stepped down to the planked walk. “Return at three, William,” she ordered the driver.
“Nora’s been invite
d to the Knightly ball this evening and assures me she’ll simply die if she isn’t able to attend,” Callie explained as they made their way to the office. When they reached the door, the captain held out his hand to take the key.
“Perhaps I will see you there,” he said, “since I’ve an invitation as well.”
“Perhaps,” she said, surprised at the coy note in her voice. She pushed aside the curtains on the windows while the captain started a fire in the stove. A cup of tea would be more than welcome this morning. She needed something to calm her nerves, especially if she was to spend the entire day in the office with Ford Remington. To say nothing of the evening.
When they were settled, Callie began work on the bill of lading for Captain Fletcher’s forthcoming trip to China. The sooner the ship was loaded with textiles and iron and copper, the sooner it could set sail. And the sooner the Night’s Lady could return with a full cargo of tea.
Hopefully, by the time they returned, she would know who was doing the stealing. And how.
She looked over to the desk where the admiral usually worked and watched Captain Remington study the bills of lading from the last cargoes the clippers had brought in.
She definitely needed another cup of tea.
. . .
Ford had studied the bills of lading as well as the invoices from the last three years and found no discrepancies. Everything matched perfectly.
He had even gone to the docks to talk with Captain Fletcher again. Everything the captain said matched exactly with what the records showed, although if Ford were any judge of character, he would have thought the captain was noticeably uncomfortable as he answered Ford’s questions.
Perhaps it was simply that Captain Fletcher took umbrage at Ford’s light interrogation. Perhaps he thought Ford’s inquiry called into question his honesty. Whatever the cause, the reaction Ford saw was clearly one of resentment.
For the first time, Ford considered that everyone from Her Majesty to Major Thrush, and even Callie, may merely have been imagining that someone was stealing from the shipping company. For that matter, perhaps the whole thing was a total red herring.