When they boarded the clipper, the smell of tar filled their nostrils. The ship had been recaulked but the cabins had not yet been refurbished.
Savage told his crew they would sail for France on the evening tide and bade his storemaster victual the ship. Tony eyed the evil-looking seamen and repressed a shudder. Some she guessed were Lascars, some Genoese, others were English. She also guessed they were villains to a man.
Savage opened the door to a small cabin with a porthole but no bunk. “You may have this all to yourself,” he said as if he were bestowing a royal stateroom.
“There’s no bed,” Tony protested indignantly.
Savage gave him a look of contempt and bent to a locker. “Here’s a hammock. Get down on your knees and be thankful I’m not making you string it where the rest of the crew sleeps.”
Tony was grateful for the privacy now that the alternative had been pointed out.
“Everyone on my vessels is expected to earn his keep, but I want you to stay below out of sight today.”
“Thank you,” Tony said with relief.
“We’ll sail on the evening tide. Tomorrow will be soon enough for you to swab the deck.”
Tony glanced at him to see if he was serious. Savage was deadly serious. “Roz knows nothing of this business. Could you let her know we are going to buy cargo?” Tony asked hopefully, not daring to suggest Savage wait while Mr. Burke packed some bags for her.
Savage nodded. “I’ll be hours. I’ve my own affairs to see to as well as yours.” He made no secret of the fact that he was damned displeased at the inconvenience.
When he departed Tony looked forlornly at the heap of woven hemp he’d called a hammock. Antonia had never actually seen one before. She found iron hooks on the cabin wall and finally managed to stretch it across one corner. She sat down upon it and when it stopped swinging, she gingerly lifted her feet from the floor and stretched out her legs. In the dim cabin she felt alone and isolated. She couldn’t prevent a tear from rolling down her cheek, but determinedly she licked it off with her tongue.
Savage sought out Dr. Keate. He learned with enormous relief that Tony Lamb had not taken his cousin’s life, nor had he wounded him too badly. It amounted to no more than a crease on the shoulder. However, Keate told him that young Anthony Lamb had caused a scandal by turning and firing on the count of nine. It was unheard of and only a coward would stoop to such an act.
Savage said evenly, “I was present. They turned together.”
“That is incidental. The one who did the wounding takes full blame. If Tony had been shot, it would be his opponent who would be ostracized.”
“Gentleman’s bloody code,” Savage derided. “Thank God I’m not one.”But you’re trying your damndest to obtain a title,a mocking voice inside his head whispered. Idon’t want the bloody thinghe argued,it’s for Eve.The voice again mocked him,That’s exactly what the other Adam said: The woman tempted me!
Savage’s face was set in grim lines all the way to his bank. One of his jewel chests was brought from the vault and he took time to carefully select enough diamonds and pale blue sapphires for a necklace. He slipped them into a black velvet bag and asked the bank manager to return the chest to the vault, then went directly to Carlton House.
Savage fully intended to manipulate Prince George. In fact the game had begun yesterday when His Highness had brought up the subject of jewels. He wanted to gift the lovely Maria Fitzherbert with a piece of jewelry that would both dazzle and delight her. He had given jewels to women before of course, expensive baubles to each of the actresses with whom he had indulged in debauchery. But Maria was different. She was a respectable woman and as a consequence he wanted the jewels to be different. It would take something quite fine and rare to make her capitulate.
The problem, however, was money. With the Prince of Wales the problem was always money. He had confided to Savage that he was half a million pounds in debt. Adam knew it was six hundred and fifty thousand pounds. The Prince had heard the rumors that Savage had imported jewels from Ceylon and hoped against hope that he could barter something he owned, as he had done with his stable of racehorses.
Savage half jokingly told George there was really nothing he wanted, except perhaps a title.
His Highness had shaken his head sadly and told him such things were beyond his patrimony. Prince George was bitterly disappointed about the jewels. He had set his mind upon them, just as he had set his mind upon Maria Fitzherbert, and he could not bear to be thwarted.
Savage smiled grimly as he went up the steps of Carlton House. He knew nothing in the entire world was unattainable. Some things merely carried a higher price than others. When George actually saw the gems, touched the diamonds, and pictured how the pale blue sapphires matched Maria’s eyes, he would find a way to acquire them.
Savage hid the amusement in his eyes when His Highness revealed he’d consulted his friend, Charles Fox, about the tricky business of being elevated to the peerage. Adam finally managed to extract the precious jewels from George’s fingers and place them back in their black velvet bag.
“I shall be out of the country for the next three weeks or so.” He shrugged. “Perhaps by the time I return Your Highness will have found the money to purchase the jewels.” He swung the bag between his fingers. “I can get at least a quarter of a million for these gems, but I’ll let Your Highness have them for a hundred thousand.” Savage knew George was in so much debt, he had nowhere to turn for money. A hundred thousand was as impossible as a hundred million, but he was giving him three weeks to find a way to obtain him a title.
When Savage called at Curzon Street he saw for himself that Lady Randolph had no inkling of the duel, so he told her Tony was sailing with him to Europe and they’d be gone about three weeks.
“I’ll pack him a trunk. How careless of Tony to run off without his wardrobe.”
“He won’t need anything fancy. I intend to put him to work to earn his passage. Just have Burke throw a few things into a bag.”
Roz eyed Savage with alarm. “Mr. Savage … Adam … I hope you aren’t serious about making Tony do menial work. He’s never really had a robust constitution. I’m afraid he’s not as strong as he might be.”
Adam smiled. “You pamper the lad too much, ma’am. You also underestimate him. When he was at Edenwood he mucked out the stables for me. Menial work builds character as well as muscle.”
Roz paled. “Ship’s crews are notoriously rough and dangerous. I don’t fancy him mingling with such men.”