Page 54 of Trouble

‘Right,’ said Emily. ‘And where is .?.?. the boss?’

‘He’s in his study,’ said Akia. ‘Hiding.’

Emily took the bowls up the stairs, her head held high and her elbows out so that she could jab them into the sides of any of the men who got in her way. They seemed to get the idea after their comrades suffered the first few bruising knocks to the ribs; she left them swearing quietly in her wake, and the rest of the men parted to let her through, taking the opportunity to ogle at her at close quarters.

Once she reached Captain Edwards’s study, she realised she had no hands to knock, and tried instead to announce her arrival. There was no answer – but then, a crowd of sailors was standing in the entrance hall having a raucous conversation. She tried again, giving the door a shove with one of her much-abused elbows, and thought she heard a voice raised inside. Deciding it must have been an invitation to enter, she shoved open the door.

She realised her mistake very abruptly when she found herself face to face with Captain Edwards, who was standing beside his desk in dire need of a shirt.

‘Oh,’ Emily said. ‘God.’

The captain’s shoulders really were very broad, even without the help of his uniform, and he was lightly muscled in a way that somehow looked accidental, as if he hadn’t done it on purpose and was probably quite embarrassed to find himself looking this way. There was a scar on his inner bicep, a silvery-white curve of puckered flesh, like somebody had taken a slice out of him with a wickedly sharp blade.

Akia had been right about the shirtlessness. It changed things. Emily’s gaze was somewhat stuck on the dusting of dark hair that trailed from pectorals to navel when Captain Edwards cleared his throat and turned away.

‘Miss Laurence,’ he said. ‘If you could .?.?. just give me a moment, I .?.?.’

‘Sorry,’ said Emily. ‘I was .?.?. Joe told me to .?.?. and I thought you had .?.?. shirt.’

Captain Edwards did not respond. Emily turned away as he reached for the shirt that was sitting folded on his desk, and then waited in excruciating silence, the stew bowls hot in her hands.

‘Some of the high-ranking officers asked if they could make use of my dressing room,’ he said.

Emily was momentarily confused, before she realised this explained his use of his study as a place to rid himself of clothes.

‘Is that for me?’

She turned, and found him now wearing all appropriate garments, reaching out a hand towards her. She stared at said hand for at least two full seconds before realising that he was gesturing for the bowl.

‘Yes,’ she said, putting it down on the desk rather than handing it to him. ‘I’ll just .?.?. I’ll leave you to .?.?.’

She was backing away from him as if he were a slow tiger when he inclined his head towards the chair by the desk.

‘Stay,’ he said. ‘Eat.’

It wasn’t really a request, but he said it gently enough that it didn’t sound fully like a command, either. Emily supposed he was just too tired to put the required force into it, his resources depleted just like the rest of them. He had barely stopped moving during the rescue efforts, bodily carrying the people who could not stand, and he had been up late ensuring that everybody had a place to sleep. Emily had seen him delivering a newspaper to someone she presumed to be theUnicorn’s captain on her way to bed.

She pulled up the chair and sat down. He sat, too. There was another hideous silence. Emily didn’t even want to put spoon to bowl, in case she made a loud sound and their predicament worsened. She waited until he started to eat, and then realised that her pronounced hesitation probably made it look as if she’d poisoned the food.

It was all very irritating. She shouldn’t care –didn’tcare – if they had nothing to say to each other. Why would they?

‘It’s good,’ he lied. It wasn’tbadstew, but it was mostly made of scraps at this point, stretched thin enough to feed an entire ship’s crew with Mr Khan’s extra emergency deliveries that morning. They had probably cleared out months’ worth of supplies from the larder. Captain Edwards didn’t seem to mind. ‘Joe is either going to resign or burn the house down when they all finally leave.’

‘Why not both?’ said Emily.

‘Well .?.?.’ said Captain Edwards. ‘Indeed.’

They ate some more stew, Emily working up the required courage to probe. In her experience, fatigue loosened people’s tongues. It did not feel quite right to exploit this moment of weakness – but then again, there was no point quibbling over the ethics of yourmethodswhen trying to conduct espionage for profit.

‘Is it strange for you to have a house full of sailors?’

Captain Edwards didn’t flinch. ‘No. After so much time spent at sea, why would it be?’

‘Some of them don’t seem particularly friendly,’ she said carefully. ‘I didn’t eavesdrop on purpose, but I heard them being a little .?.?. unkind.’

‘Ah,’ said Captain Edwards. ‘Well .?.?. Sailors. Things work quite differently aboard ships, even in the Royal Navy.’

‘But they were saying—’