Page 10

G rievous news awaited when she and Emmaline arrived back at Hawthorne Hall.

Her father’s fleet was gone .

All of it, save for the Golden Tempest, which was still at sea.

She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. The words tumbled around in her head, meaningless at first, until they landed like the weight of cannonballs.

He sat at the end of the dining table, hunched over, head in his hands as he tried to hold himself together. His voice cracked as he spoke, rough and uneven. Every word difficult. The news unsettling and tragic.

The Emerald Voyager. Burned .

The Azure Starlight. Sunk .

Gone . Both of them. Just like that.

She didn’t speak. Couldn’t. Her mouth was dry, her fingers numb around the teacup she hadn’t touched. This was real. Not a dream. Not some far-off tale of tragedy in a foreign port.

Most of the crew had made it off, he said. Somehow. Including Tobin—the gruff old boatswain who once taught her how to tie a sailor’s knot when she was barely tall enough to reach the rail.

Her stomach twisted. This wasn’t just business. This was loss. Real and raw and far too close.

“I’m ruined,” her father said, his voice muffled against his hands as he raked them down his face.

His hands dropped into his lap, fingers limp, useless. He slumped back into the chair like the strength had gone out of him completely. She’d never seen him so pale. So still. His eyes were glossy, unfocused. Holding back tears he wouldn’t let fall. He was thinking about the men. The ones who didn’t make it. The silence was heavy and tense between them. Thick and cloying in the room.

“How did it happen?” she asked.

“Tobin said it started in the cargo hold of the Voyager and spread quickly. None of the other ships in the harbor were harmed.”

Hot tears pricked the backs of her eyes as she thought of the incredible loss they’d experienced. First, their home. Now the ships. And it was hard for her not to think it had something to do with the book. She’d handed off the basket to Emmaline and asked her to take it to her room. Now, she sat next to her father at the dining table. She dropped her hands to her lap and clasped them together to keep from shaking. She hadn’t even removed her gloves or her bonnet. When she arrived, Gerald immediately asked her to see about him as he was in a state of despair and disbelief.

Shadow things and whispering pages.

How were they tied to the destruction of their lives?

“You still have the Tempest,” she said, trying to sound optimistic. “All is not lost.”

“Yes, the Tempest.” He blew out a heated breath. “I’ve sent word with Tobin to make sure it sails to the other continent and remain there.”

The continent across the sea was where her father spent time in port visiting merchants and trading goods, buying silks and spices.

“I’m so sorry, Father. I wish there was something I could do to help.”

His gaze lifted to hers and he managed a weak smile. He reached a hand to her, and she took it, letting him clasp it tight for reassurance.

“You being here is enough.” He released her and sat back again, his grave expression lining his face. At that moment, he looked old, frail, and utterly desolate. “But I daresay I will have to return to port to deal with all this business.”

“Then Emmaline and I will come with you.”

“No.” He waved off the thought. “There are reports to be filed and meetings with the port authority, not to mention the crown. I have shipments to reroute and negotiations with suppliers. All tedious dealings. You stay here with her and the others. I trust you to run the household in my absence.”

Running the household in his absence was not foreign to her. She did it every time he was at sea. But somehow this time it felt different.

She remained silent as she thought of Leopold Thornhurst. Now was not the time to bring that up with her father. Now was not the time to accept the job with the nobleman, either, even though she desperately wanted to. Even though his carriage would be waiting for her in town to transport her to his home. Her place was here, with her father, to offer her support and comfort during this horrible, devastating time. Disappointment flooded her as she shoved the thoughts aside. Remaining here was the right thing to do.

“When will you leave?”

“In the morning. That will give me tonight to make arrangements and pack a bag.” He leaned towards her, reaching once again for her hand. “I do hope you understand, dearest.”

She gave him a reassuring smile. “Of course, I do, Father.”

It was their livelihood at stake, after all, not to mention his reputation as a reliable trader. She was aware rivals might seize the opportunity to undermine him. She understood there was an enormous amount of pressure on him in the aftermath of this disaster.

“I hate to leave you, but—”

“Do not worry for us here, Father. All will be well,” she said, quickly cutting him off and giving him her best supportive smile. She sounded far more confident than she felt.

He blew out a breath of relief. “My dear daughter, you are intelligent and brave like your mother, may she rest in peace. I’m so grateful to have you.” He pushed from the table and rose, the chair scraping along the wood floor. “Ask Gerald to bring supper to my room, will you?”

She nodded. “Of course.”

He left her alone in the dining room with her whirling thoughts. She was distraught about the ships and the crew. But she knew they had enough money in their accounts to last a few months. She would speak to the staff and make sure they were aware of their situation and ask them to be mindful of their spending. At least until things settled with her father and the business. A merchant without a fleet of ships was like a sailor without the sea—adrift, useless, and destined to drown.

A cold knot twisted in her gut at the thought.

Not just financial ruin, but his reputation, his pride, and everything he’d built.

Before long, they’d need money to survive. But perhaps there was hope yet. The only way she knew to get that money was through her translations and scribing.

She was going to see Leopold Thornhurst.

Nerves jangling like bells in her chest, Bella practically flew down the stairs. Sleep was a lost cause—if she’d managed more than an hour, it hadn’t been restful. Her body ached with exhaustion, heavy and buzzing all at once, but she shoved it aside. She didn’t have time to be tired.

As soon as her father left, she’d hurry into town to meet the carriage waiting for her. She would go to Mr. Thornhurst. No more waiting. The thought sent a sharp thrill straight through her. Her hands wouldn’t stop fidgeting. Her feet barely touched the steps.

This was happening. Today .

Her father was already in the foyer when she reached the landing—coat half-buttoned, a leather folio tucked under one arm, suitcase by his feet. He slipped on his gloves with quick, practiced movements, then settled his top hat into place. He was leaving. No hesitation. No delay.

Through the front windows, she caught a glimpse of the carriage waiting at the drive, Gerald standing nearby with the driver and footman, everything in perfect order.

Her chest tightened. It was all happening so quickly. He was leaving for Port Leclare, and, after that, she would meet Mr. Thornhurst.

“Ah, Bella, thank you for coming to see me off.” He extended his arms to her for a tight hug. When he pulled back, he held her at arm’s length. “Are you sure you’ll be all right here?”

“I’m sure. I have Gerald and Edith and Emmaline to keep me company. I’ll be fine.” She granted him a smile. She didn’t dare tell him her plans to earn some coin while he was back in Port Leclare. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll be staying at the inn,” he said. “Should you need me, send word there.”

She nodded. “I’ll keep you posted of everything happening here at Hawthorne. I promise. And you’ll let me know how things are going for you?”

He brushed her cheek with the back of his gloved hand. “Of course, I will. You’re a good daughter, Bella. What would I do without you?”

And then he was off. He picked up his case and headed out the door, climbing into the carriage without another look back. She stood in the open doorway and watched as the carriage clattered down the gravel drive, leaving dust in its wake, until it disappeared around the corner and was finally out of sight.

She spun on the heel of her slipper and bounded back up the stairs to her room where she grabbed her shawl, wrapping it around her shoulders. She pulled on her favorite lace gloves and tied on a bonnet that matched her pale blue silk gown. As she was tying the bow, Emmaline entered.

“Miss?”

“I’m going out for the day, Em,” she said, securing the knot under her chin. “Tell Gerald I will not be home for supper.”

Emmaline stood in the doorway, blocking her exit. “Where shall I say you’re going?”

“I’ll be in town.”

It wasn’t far from the truth. She would, at least, be starting there. She snatched up the book and cradled it against her chest, turning toward the door. But Emmaline refused to move, as though she were a roadblock. Her gaze landed on the book.

“Em—”

“You’re going to see that man, aren’t you?” she asked.

“I—”

“Did you tell your father about him?” she demanded with a stern look in her eyes. She had never seen Emmaline so serious.

Heat washed over Bella as she stood rooted in place, clutching the book. “No.”

She pursed her lips in disappointment.

“I must go, Emmaline,” she said. “In light of recent events, our very livelihood depends upon it.”

She relented then, her shoulders sagging a bit as she stepped aside. “Perhaps I should come with you.”

“No,” she said quickly. Far too quickly. “I must go alone.”

“But my lady—”

“He won’t be expecting the two of us,” she said hastily. “Besides, I’ll be back by nightfall. Don’t lock me out.”

Bella breezed past her into the hallway. Emmaline followed.

“Are you sure about this, miss? It seems rather reckless to me.”

It was reckless, but what choice did she have? She had to do this. She had to earn the coin to keep them going until her father sorted out his merchant business. It was the only way to keep their household afloat and pay the bills that would surely come due.

She turned back to Emmaline, stepping close to her and lowering her voice. “It’s the only way I can make sure we will be able to continue to eat.”

The gravity of the situation hit the girl then, and her face blanched. She pressed a hand against her throat.

“Is it all that serious, miss?”

“I’m afraid it is. Please do not tell Gerald where I’m going. He’ll find a way to send a message to my father, no doubt. Just tell him and Edith I have business in town, and I’ll be home before nightfall.”

The girl’s gaze flickered from her face once again to the book clutched in her arms. “As you wish, my lady,” she said, sounding formal and stiff.

Bella reached for her then, placing a hand on her upper arm and giving her a light squeeze. “I’ll be fine. I promise. I can hold my own against pretentious nobles.” She flashed a quick smile.

When she did, Emmaline grinned and stifled a giggle, then immediately turned serious. “Please be safe, my lady. I do not wish to see any harm come to you.”

“I will,” she said. “You have my word.”

And then she was off down the stairs and out the door before anyone else stopped her.