He nods.
“In that case, I think Nico will want to speak to you alone.”
Nicolas protests that I do not need to go, but I insist. I say my final words to Andrés. Then Nicolas leads him to the bow of the ship and says his.
34
Imust now do a thing even more dangerous than sword fighting. A thing even I hesitate to do, though I certainly did not say as much to Nicolas when we discussed our next steps. This is a thing that must be done, and he cannot—should not—do it. Not for his safety or for Emily’s, who needs him there, tending to her wounds.
What gets me where I need to be is one simple piece of accepted truth. I trust Emily. Others have betrayed our trust. Lord Thomas betrayed mine, and Jenkins horribly betrayed Nicolas’s. Yet Emily remained true. She is dedicated to the cause, and she may have grown up sheltered and lonely, but she has an iron core. I owe her, and I trust her, and so I will do this.
I lift my hand and rap on the door. A butler answers, and I announce myself. There is some to-ing and fro-ing within, and then I am escorted to a breakfast room where Norrington sits at his morning meal. When I walk in, he looks up. Then he stops, pushes back from the table and rises sharply.
“You,” he says.
“Yes, me.”
“You are Dupuis’s girl. The one who insinuated herself with my niece and robbed my safe. The one who pretended to be a lad at the cliff.”
“Yes.”
He snaps down his fork with a clatter. “If you have come to beg pardon for your young man—”
“No. Well, yes, eventually, but I come now on a more pressing matter. Your niece has been injured. Badly injured.”
He moves toward me so fast that I must bolt myself to the floor so as not to retreat.
“It was not us,” I say quickly. “She was used as a lure for Dr. Dupuis. We were told you were holding her captive on theTemerityin punishment for her helping us last night.”
“Emilyhelpedyou last night?”
I realize my error and want to retract it. Instead, I stand firm. “Your niece understands who is right and who is wrong in this dispute, and as much as she loves you, she cannot let you do what you are doing. Which is beside the point right now. She was shot, and Dr. Dupuis is tending to her, but she requires a local physician—the best you have—and a place to recover.”
“You are asking me to do that, despite the fact she betrayed me last night?”
I meet his gaze. “You are a terrible lord, but I trust you are not a terrible uncle. Nor a terrible man. I’m asking you because I cannot ask her father, as he is currently being held captive on theTemerityhimself.”
One corner of Norrington’s mouth curls. “If you expect me to care about that, you have certainly come to the wrong person. Emily, yes, but not the cad who stole my sister.”
“I expect you will care about his fate, though, as he is also the one who shot your niece.”
Norrington rocks back. “What?”
“He was aiming at Dr. Dupuis, but he is still the one who took her captive, pretending it had been you. And he killed a cabin boy he thought overheard a conversation you had on theTemerity. The boy did not, but Jenkins locked him in the galley and left him to die, which he did.”
Now Norrington pales. He blinks as if trying to fully understand what I am saying. “A cabin boy?”
“Yes, he murdered a cabin boy. He attempted to murder Dr. Dupuis both today and three days ago. You are unmarried, with no heirs save his daughter. His fortunes are tied to yours, and so he protected yours.” That is a simple version of the truth, and from Norrington’s expression, he accepts it.
“Will you take your niece and tend to her wounds?” I ask.
“Of course.” He calls for someone, and a man appears. Norrington tells him to fetch the doctor from Whitby and be quick about it.
When the man leaves, I say, “Will you handle Mr. Jenkins, preferably in a manner that does not cause undue trauma to his daughter?”
“I will.”
“Will you pardon Dr. Dupuis, as a man who was erroneously targeted for treason—which we both know he did not commit—and who otherwise only acted for the benefit of others?”