Page 61 of An Imperfect Scoundrel

Cedric grimaced.

Rising, he collected the third bottle of whiskey and stalked to his desk. He knew the residents of Wiltshire, having grown up in the area, but the name Dubois was a mystery to him. However, if Mr. Dubois were from Wiltshire, he would know Cedric’s family.

Could he discreetly ask after Dinah?

Turning the question over in his mind, he took a sip from the bottle, his gaze sliding over Mr. Dubois’ supine form.

A sharp rap sounded on the door, drawing his attention. Setting the bottle down, he stood and strode to the door. Wrenching the door open, he greeted Mr. Hayward with a scowl.

“Where’s Dubois?” Mr. Hayward asked, peering into the cabin. “Surely you didn’t kill him on the same day that he helped us escape from the Navy.”

“He’s asleep.” Cedric thumbed at Mr. Dubois’ bare feet, which peeked out from beneath the table. He stepped into the corridor and closed the door to his cabin. “What news have you?”

“The women from the Crescent Rose, the ones who decided to go swimming, were rescued by the Navy.”

“All of them?”

“Yes, and they’ve given your name as the man responsible for the death of Mr. Cheswick.” Mr. Hayward opened the outer door and they stepped onto the main deck. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a square of paper, and unfolded it. “Your bounty has been raised to fifty thousand.”

“Excellent.” Cedric took the newspaper, his eyes perusing the top article.

“Any man found aboard your ship will also be hanged without trial.”

Cedric glanced up. “Are you concerned for your neck?”

“No, Captain. However, we’ll need to hide the ship while we wait for replies from the hostages’ families.” Mr. Hayward’s abrupt silence concerned Cedric.

“What haven’t you told me?” he asked, his gaze sweeping across the main deck.

“There are rumblings among the crew.” Mr. Hayward stopped at the base of the ladder leading to the steering.

“Mutiny?” A flutter of worry in his chest, he refolded the newspaper and shoved the square into his pocket.

“Bad luck.”

Cedric scaled the ladder, followed by Mr. Hayward, and relieved Mr. Johnson from the wheel, indicating he should go below and get some rest. Once Mr. Johnson had climbed down, Cedric turned to Mr. Hayward, keeping his voice low.

“Did they say the cause of the curse they believe has befallen us?”

“They think it’s one of the men we took from the Crescent Rose.”

“Which one?”

“I haven’t heard any names.”

“What are your thoughts?”

“We have a woman working aboard…” Mr. Hayward said, as though that would explain away the near misses they’d had with the Navy.

“You believe Mrs. Parker is to blame?”

“I’m not a superstitious man.” Cedric snorted. Mr. Hayward was perhaps the most superstitious man he’d ever met. “But perhaps we should consider releasing her with the hostages.”

“Are you dissatisfied with her service?”

“No, Captain.”

“We’ve had women aboard this ship before, Mr. Hayward. If you remember, Captain Taylor’s wife sailed with us for several months before he retired, and no such occurrences took place.”