Page 64 of Trouble

Emily removed the hair and sat down.

It took her approximately three seconds to realise that he had called herEmily, and it hit her like a blow; her face flushed hot, her mind was wiped shockingly blank, her limbs were momentarily unavailable.

Charles’s face was almost entirely neutral, but she could see how pleased he was with himself by the glint in his eye and the way his finger was tapping against the table in anticipation.

Emily could not begin to fathom how he had found out her true name, and her mind raced ahead to whatelsehe might know – where her family lived, her late father’s name,Amy’sname – as he watched her very carefully.

‘Good afternoon,’ she said eventually.

If Charles was disappointed that she had not risen to the bait, he worked hard not to let it show.

‘There is no need to look quite so startled,’ he said, his voice dropping into a register that was low and friendly. ‘Your secret’s safe with me.’

Emily nodded, trying to relax her shoulders, but something had shifted: he had thought to investigate her background, to seek more about her when she only had his first name and the fact that he seemed overly fond of this pub. He had somehow found out what nobody at Fairmont had, and it was the sort of information that had the potential to be incendiary.

Charles looked at her expectantly.

‘Usually,’ he said, ‘it is you who insist that we get down to business at once. If you have mellowed, I am very happy for you, but it just so happens I am in somewhat of a rush today. Do you have something for me, or are you just here for the pleasure of my company? Here, I’ll get you a drink.’

He called for the barmaid in that way of his – a flick of his fingers – but today Emily did not find it at all charming; it was imperious, in a way that grated on her nerves. A tankard appeared, but Emily did not touch it. He seemed to be enjoying himself. Emily decidedly was not.

‘Go on, then,’ he prompted.

‘There was a shipwreck,’ Emily said. ‘HMSUnicorn. The sailors ended up staying at the house.’

‘Ah,’ said Charles. ‘I heard about that, but I wasn’t entirely sure where they’d ended up. I don’t suppose the captain was very happy about that.’

‘He invited them,’ said Emily.

‘Well, he loves to make his life harder,’ said Charles. ‘Heard something interesting during their stay, did you?’

He might have just been fishing, but perhaps he could see it on Emily’s face – everything she had that she wasn’t telling him. It all felt so complicated now. Gone was her certainty – her purpose. When she had first buried those things at the beach she had thought to fetch them before she met him again, but in all the mess of the captain and Aster, she had forgotten.

‘Did you sell the box?’ she asked, stalling for time. ‘The one I gave you. The parts.’

‘Not yet,’ said Charles. ‘But I have an interested buyer I intend to meet with soon. I’m sure I’ll have something for you next time, but in return .?.?. I really think you might have something for me.’

‘You still have it?’ Emily said. ‘I would have thought—’

‘Look,’ said Charles, his smooth demeanour faltering. ‘Do you have anything for me or not?’

‘You were supposed to sell the parts,’ Emily said bullishly.

‘I am not afence,’ Charles snapped back. ‘I am doing you a favour. I asked you to retrieve information for me, you made it clear that you weremorethan willing, and now you are sitting there looking ten shades of suspicious and offering me nothing.’

Emily continued to offer him nothing.

She could not believe that she had ever taken any kind of pleasure in this man’s company. Before, she had seen it as a partnership of sorts – had felt that she and Charles were cut from the same cloth. Now she realised that he saw her as nothing more than a tool, something blunt to use to get at what he wanted.

Could she really lay bare all of Captain Edwards’s most closely guarded secrets to be used by this man in any way he saw fit?

‘Well,’ he said, drumming his fingers on the table and then leaning back in his seat. ‘As it so happens, I caught up with an old navy friend of my own last week. He told meexactlywhat he thinks went on. By the looks of you, I think you might know, too, Emily – there is no point playing coy, or nursing your offended sensibilities. Now that we are on the same page, all we need is a little proof.’

Proof.

There might be none at all. Or there might be a stack of personal correspondence in that drawer of Captain Edwards’s – she’d know exactly what to look for, now.Wakefield.

‘To what end?’ said Emily, trying to keep her voice calm and even. ‘Do you wish to see him hanged? Or do you plan to blackmailhim?’