Becoming Lady Lockwood (17 page)

The admiral and Riley climbed into the carriage, and the admiral handed the box to Amelia.

She raised her eyebrows, but he indicated for her to open it.

Untying the ribbon, she took off the lid and pulled aside the layers of paper to reveal a folded garment.

When she removed it from the box, she saw that it was a blue cloak trimmed with golden fur. She gasped. It was so thick and warm and beautiful.

She leaned forward and wrapped it around her shoulders, tying the ribbon below her chin and marveling that anything could feel so soft. “Admiral Griffin, did you—”

“No, Miss Becket. It was not I. But seeing your reaction, I’ll confess to wishing I’d thought of such a gesture.”

Amelia searched through the box and the paper inside. “There is no note.”

“I think, miss, that you should ease your mind. I doubt that even this young boy would have trouble identifying the giver of such a thoughtful gift. I’d wager a certain captain is concerned that his Jamaican shipmate will find London quite a bit less temperate than her island home. ” The admiral winked, and Amelia pulled the fur of the cloak up around her flushed cheeks as she looked out the window.

Her mood was instantly lightened.

The carriage drove through the cold streets, and gradually the houses became much grander and farther apart. Large walls surrounded the structures, and elaborate wrought iron gates blocked out unwanted visitors.

It was in front of one of these elegant-looking structures that the carriage halted, and Amelia quickly bid Riley farewell, pecking a kiss on his cheek. The admiral held her hand as she stepped from the carriage, and then he offered his arm to walk with her up the front steps.

The door was opened by a rather cross-looking bald man. “I am sorry, but the admiral is not home at present.”

“Thank you,” Admiral Griffin said. “This is Admiral Becket’s daughter, Miss Becket, just arrived from Jamaica.”

The butler’s eyebrows raised. “I was not told to expect a visitor.”

“The admiral’s own daughter is hardly a visitor. Please send a man to the carriage to fetch her trunk.”

“And what is your name?” Amelia asked the butler.

“Hastings, miss,” he said before yelling into the dark house for someone to assist the carriage driver.

The admiral turned to her. “I think you should be very well taken care of, Miss Becket.” He raised his eyebrow toward Hastings, who appeared not to notice. “And I shall see to it that young Riley is delivered to his home as well.”

“Thank you, Admiral Griffin.”

“It was indeed a pleasure, miss. And I hope our paths shall cross again while you are in London.” He bowed his head before turning to leave.

Amelia imagined herself running after him and begging him to return her to the
Venture
, but mustering her courage, she turned and followed Hastings into her father’s house.

A large staircase rose in front of her. All of the windows were covered with heavy drapery, and the walls were papered in a dark pattern. The entire effect was one of gloom and cold.

“May I take your cloak?” Hastings asked, though he spoke with no politeness. His words seemed to come straight from a handbook of “manners appropriate for a butler.”

Amelia unwrapped her cloak from her shoulders and handed it to him, immediately noticing the chill it no longer protected her against.

The butler looked at the blanket she wore over a sailor’s oilskin coat and raised his eyebrows slightly.

She took off the coat carefully—her injury was still tender—and gave it to him with her gloves and bonnet, but she retained the blanket around her shoulders. He held the oilskin coat with his nose slightly wrinkled before handing the wrappings to a young maid who had appeared. She scurried away, apparently to hang them in a cloakroom somewhere.

“Since you weren’t expected, a room has not been prepared.” Hastings sighed and looked at Amelia as if her presence was going to cause him an exorbitant amount of extra work. “And we have no lady’s maid on staff.”

“I understand, Hastings. Please do not worry yourself.”

“I shall send the housekeeper, when she has the time, to instruct a chambermaid to see to your accommodations.”

“Thank you.”

“You can wait in the library if you’d like.” Hastings waved toward a doorway behind him. “And I suppose you’ll be wanting something to eat.” He sighed again. “I will ask Cook to see to it.”

“And when is my father expected home?”

“I really could not say. The admiral does not keep regular hours. He will return when he sees fit.”

“And is there no way to notify him of my arrival?”

Hastings looked up at the ceiling as if asking for divine guidance in answering such ridiculous questions. “I shall tell him as soon as he returns.”

“Thank you.” Amelia followed Hastings into the library, where he lit some candles and built a fire in the fireplace, then he left her to her own company.

The sorrow she had held at bay broke free, and she buried her face in her hands, missing her spot upon the window seat aboard the
Venture
. And even more, missing the man who would know exactly what to say to comfort her.

William stood at attention next
to Sidney in the Lords of the Admiralty boardroom. Behind them, large windows spanned nearly the entire wall. On the opposite side of the chamber, charts and maps were rolled and hung from rods above a massive mantelpiece; inside burned a roaring fire. Forty feet above him, an ornately carved ceiling crowned the historical room. To his left, the ticking of the prominent clock ensconced in a carved marble bookshelf sounded loudly as Admiral Griffin and the ten men on the board of the Lords of Admiralty sat silently studying William and Sydney.

Finally, one of the admirals spoke. “It is a severe accusation that you make, Captain.”

“I speak only as I find. The evidence is in front of you.” William waved his hands to indicate the missives recovered from the French ship. The documents sat on the table next to the HMS
Venture
’s mission papers, which the admirals had passed around the boardroom table while William had given the report of the voyage.

“It could be a horrible coincidence,” a small admiral wearing a powdered wig said. “We do not know whether the mission was issued by the traitor—”

“Don’t be daft, man,” another much larger and much louder admiral interrupted. “The script upon each of the missives is the same as that upon the mission papers. And who would have known the
Venture
’s location better than the person who had ordered it?”

“Surely, sirs, there is a documentation process?” Sidney said. “It should be possible to determine what person, or persons, issued the mission orders.”

A tall, wiry admiral wearing wire-rimmed glasses slammed his hand upon the table. “The orders were approved by this board. To accuse one of the Lords of Admiralty is treachery.”

Sidney stiffened, and William could practically feel waves of anger flowing from his friend. “With all due respect, sirs,” Sidney bit off the words, “because of these orders and the subsequent betrayal, I watched good men hacked to pieces by French boarding axes—”

William put his hand upon Sidney’s shoulder, hoping to calm him.

Admiral Griffin spoke. “Nobody is being accused. We all seek the same answers.”

The men in the room seemed to all speak at once, some visibly upset. William caught Admiral Griffin’s eye, and the older man shook his head slightly, cautioning William to remain silent.

The Lord High Admiral rose from his place at the head of the conference table, and the room immediately quieted. “It is obvious that the mission was compromised, and none wants to acknowledge that it could have been done by one of our own.” He motioned to a clerk who stood in a corner of the chamber. “Find the office from which these orders originated. I want the name of each person who would have had access to this information as soon as possible.”

The clerk picked up the documents in question and scurried away.

The large admiral spoke again. “We know that only a select group of men are privy to the confidential orders given to a man-of-war. Aside from those in this room, only the commanding officer and likely one or two others with whom he may have consulted.”

“There is one among that party who is involved in a legal suit with Captain Drake,” Admiral Griffin said, and all eyes turned to William.

“Is this true, Captain?” asked the Lord High Admiral.

“Yes, sir. Admiral Becket and I are involved in a suit of a personal nature.”

“That does cast a different light upon the case. And might I ask what the suit is in regards to?”

“It is a discrepancy in the matter of his daughter’s alleged proxy marriage to my late brother.” William’s muscles tensed. He did not want Amelia’s name associated with this business in the least. The very idea of the admirals discussing her made him clench his teeth. He watched the men shrewdly, judging their reactions.

At that moment, the clerk returned with a stack of papers, which he handed to the Lord High Admiral, whispering to the admiral for a moment, pointing at something on one of the papers and then lifting the stack and pointing at another. The admiral listened carefully and then spoke to the group.

“It appears that our suspicions are not wholly without foundation. Admiral Becket did issue the orders, and it seems that he somehow managed to get them approved without actually presenting them to this council.”

At the words, every man in the room burst into angry dialogue, the noise ringing through the high chamber. The very idea that they had been duped outraged the board.

The Lord High Admiral held up his hand for silence. “There is obviously a flaw in the order of operations, and Admiral Becket has used it to his advantage. How he was able to accomplish this and send a ship upon a mission without the proper authority behind him will be investigated thoroughly. Yet there is another factor we must take into consideration. His actions, if exposed, will cast doubt upon our competence as a board. The entire British navy and even the government will suffer because of it. During wartime, citizens must have complete confidence in their leaders. We have seen the results in France when the government is mistrusted.”

The powder-wigged admiral spoke. “And the evidence is not yet irrefutable. An argument could be made that Admiral Becket did not have any idea of the contents of the missive, just as we did not.”

“The man’s character is not unknown to us. While a brilliant leader and strategist, he has been known to act . . . unethically,” said the tall admiral.

“Unethically?” The large admiral spoke again, his booming voice echoing throughout the chamber. “Placing wagers upon a fixed horse race is acting unethically. Admiral Becket behaved in a treasonous manner, risking hundreds of lives to enact revenge against a man over a simple matter of jointure. He has betrayed his country and must be punished.”

“Yes, but a man of his standing will still be very difficult to convict,” the spectacled admiral pointed out.

Sidney shook with suppressed rage.

William spoke up. “And, sirs, I would hope you would be sympathetic to the fact that he has a daughter. Her reputation will undoubtedly be soiled should he be tried and hanged as a traitor.”

The Lord High Admiral looked at William shrewdly. “One would think, Captain, that you of all people would be thirsting for revenge in this case. Would you truly let the man walk free to spare Miss Becket a blemish upon her family name?”

Admiral Griffin spoke then, and William was again grateful for the man’s calm head. “Miss Becket has proven herself to be quite the reverse of her father, and Captains Drake and Fletcher feel some loyalty to her. Surely after her heroism aboard the HMS
Venture
, she does not deserve to be branded with the label of traitor because of her father.” He stood and faced the board. “Perhaps there is an arrangement that can be made that will satisfy all parties. I have heard rumors of a very remote outpost in Zanzibar that may have need of an admiral in residence . . .”

An hour later, William, Sidney, and Admiral Griffin left the boardroom.

“I thank you, Admiral,” William said. “Your compromise was a stroke of genius.”

“I believe that Admiral Becket will be quite surprised at receiving his new assignment within the next week.”

The men shook hands.

William was relieved, but he couldn’t help but think the orders couldn’t come soon enough. The very thought of that man near Amelia put him on edge.

“It was my pleasure, Captain. Or perhaps I should call you my lord?” Admiral Griffin’s mouth turned up in a small smile. “The British navy has lost a good man, sir.” The admiral turned to Sidney. “And you are bound for Portsmouth today?”

“Yes, sir. I must see to the ship’s repairs.”

“Congratulations on your promotion, Captain.” Admiral Griffin shook Sidney’s hand and left to return to his office.

William was emotionally exhausted. He found his mind traveling to Amelia. He wondered how she would greet him. Cheerfully, most likely, and she might share some bit of humor that would relieve the strain of his day. He felt himself longing to be near her, but before he could seek her company at her father’s house, he had a meeting with his solicitor.

He and Sidney walked through the admiralty complex and to the waiting carriage.

Once they had climbed inside, William leaned back against the leather seat and studied his friend. “You have been unnaturally quiet, Sidney. Something is distressing you.”

“I merely wonder why Admiral Becket would go to the trouble of sending a ship for his daughter and then sabotage its return. There are much easier ways to go about ridding the world of William Drake, if you’ll pardon me for saying so. But why risk his own daughter’s life?”

“I admit I have wondered the same thing. If it was a simple matter of winning the case of his daughter’s jointure, her death would nullify the entire proceeding.” Speaking the words caused his chest to ache. He wanted nothing more than to conclude the meeting with his solicitor quickly and hurry to see Amelia.

Sidney tapped his finger against his lip thoughtfully. “He could not guarantee that she would have survived the attack, especially if the ship had been sunk. It does not make sense, does it?”

William and Sidney rode in silence to Sidney’s family home. After bidding his friend farewell and wishing him a safe trip to Portsmouth, William continued to his townhouse on James Street. The solicitor, Mr. Campbell, was already waiting in Lawrence’s—now William’s—study. The man had been the solicitor for William’s father and was easily in his seventieth year. Deep wrinkles spread across his face, but judging by the older man’s disposition, William guessed the lines had been formed equally by smiling as by pursing his brow as he perused a document.

Mr. Campbell jumped up to greet William and shook his hand as soon as he entered the room. “It is good to see you safely ashore, my lord.”

William marveled at the man’s ability to move in such a spry fashion at his age.

“Thank you. And I am sorry to have kept you waiting.” He indicated for Mr. Campbell to be seated and sat himself in the large chair behind the desk, feeling as if he were impersonating a lord. “And what news do you have regarding the suit against Admiral Becket?”

The solicitor leaned back in the chair, crossing one ankle and resting it on his other knee. “We are scheduled to present before the magistrate in four days. I have consulted with a barrister who will represent your case in court. With his assistance, I have been able to discover a great many things, all leading me to believe that your brother and Admiral Becket had a scheme in the works. The admiral’s solicitor has been most reluctant to release the documents to confirm my suspicions, but with an order of compliance from the magistrate, we should be able to gain access to the papers.”

“What sort of scheme?”

“I shall know more in the next few days, but there are clear indicators that your brother may have created a new will. Whether of his own choice or under coercion, I am not sure.”

William stood. “A new will? In that case, these proceedings should be easily finished.”

“The will does not specify the Lockwood family in the will, but if my research is correct, it does bequeath many of his lordship’s holdings to another.”

This was not possible. William’s mind spun, and he did not even know what questions to ask. “How . . . ?”

“As I said, my lord, we shall know more as the documents are turned over.”

This could not be. Lawrence would not have done something so underhanded, something that would hurt his family so cruelly. William did not realize he had begun to pace until Mr. Campbell spoke.

“And how did you find the daughter?” the solicitor stood in front of his chair, and William realized the man must have stood when William had. He would have to remember that people would not sit when he was standing now that he was Lord Lockwood.

William indicated for Mr. Campbell to resume his seat and then moved to an armchair in front of the desk to sit next to him. “I am certain Am—Miss Becket had nothing to do with the deception.”

Mr. Campbell’s wise eyes narrowed slightly. He studied William for a moment before he spoke. “And perhaps there is more reason than that of your brother’s jointure for you to not want Miss Becket’s name associated with your brother’s.”

William had a sudden urge to loosen his cravat under the man’s scrutiny. “Yes, I would prefer for Amelia not to be legally considered my sister.”

The solicitor leaned closer, his expression serious. “Then, Lord Lockwood, you must listen very carefully. It is imperative that nobody has any reason to believe that any sort of feelings exist between you and Miss Becket. It would damage our case if there is even the slightest indication of affection or even friendship between you. I suggest, nay admonish, my lord, if you should find yourself in Miss Becket’s presence, you treat her with indifference, even coolness. This town is known for its listening ears and loose tongues. Especially among servants.”

“But, sir—”

“It is the only way, my lord. If we are to convince a magistrate that you have been wronged by Admiral Becket and that his daughter was not legally joined to your brother, rumors of a relationship between you would serve only to discredit the suit.” The solicitor smiled, deepening the wrinkles around his eyes. “Would you not do anything in your power to dissolve this supposed union and free Miss Becket from your brother’s name?”

William nodded. He was disappointed that he would not be calling on Amelia for the next four days, but he understood. And he would not let his desire to be with her
now
destroy the hope he had of being with her
always
.