Page 31

“There is no evidence of visitors or of any struggle,” Solomon pointed out.

“In fact, she seems to have planned her exit quite carefully to give herself maximum time before her disappearance was noticed. It was probably her bad luck that your daughters chose that morning to go to her room early. Otherwise, it might have been this evening before anyone commented on her absence.”

Lloyd opened his mouth to deny any such claim, then bit it back and said only, “In which case, she must have been coerced in some other way.”

“Or misled, perhaps. To find her, I need to know something of her past. Particularly when you lived in the country. I think Samuels, who was then known as Clarke, came from your estate.”

“Good God man, it’s possible, but how can I be expected to keep track of such people?”

“Then you truly didn’t recognize Samuels aboard the Queen ?”

“Of course I didn’t!”

“What about Captain Tybalt?”

“Of course I knew Tybalt—he’s captained my ship many times.”

“Did he aspire to your sister’s hand in marriage?”

Again, irascible denial glared out of his eyes. Then the anger died abruptly and they widened. “Good God. You think Tybalt is responsible for this outrage? And the theft?”

“Both are possibilities I need to look into at the very least. If Tybalt was denied the wife he wanted, he had a grudge against you.”

“We had an agreement,” Lloyd said roughly. “He would stay away from Audrey and I would continue to employ him. Without me, he could not support himself, let alone a wife. No one else would give him a ship. He lost one, you know—his fault. No one else would employ him.”

“But you were prepared to risk it?”

“I took a chance the first time,” Lloyd admitted. “But in fact he’s damned good, and though he has some difficulty getting crew, those that do sail with him respect him. If it wasn’t so, I’d certainly never have risked taking my son”.

“So you are Tybalt’s only means of support?”

“Probably. I send him small commissions from others from time to time, in between my own voyages.”

“How did he meet your sister?”

“At first? Some assembly ball in Portsmouth twenty years ago, when she was a girl. Naturally, she didn’t look at him, though I could see he was smitten. I expect you find that odd, but she was damned pretty in her day.”

“And you had better plans for her.”

“I did,” Lloyd said ruefully. “Though none of them came to anything. I expect that’s why, when they met again here at this house, she actually considered him.”

“Did he ask for her hand?”

Lloyd nodded. “That’s when we made our agreement.”

“What did Miss Lloyd think of that?”

“She never knew. Just that I rejected him. She understood he could never be accepted by the family—a disgraced merchant seaman, for goodness’ sake! But she was so desperate not to remain a spinster that she would have taken him. Not against my wishes, of course.”

“Of course,” Solomon said expressionlessly, though he suspected her desperation was more to get out of this house than to attain the status of a wife.

Lloyd was staring at him. “You think she’s gone to Tybalt!”

“It is a possibility, no more. I am going to his house now.”

“I’m coming with you,” Lloyd said grimly, springing to his feet.

“No,” Solomon said. “That would not be helpful at this stage. You could spoil any hope of ever getting your treasure back.” It was the only threat he could think of that might keep Lloyd away from Tybalt in the short term.

“I shall report as soon as I have evidence.” Hopefully with Miss Lloyd in tow.

*

First, though, Solomon took a hackney to Tybalt’s house.

The light was fading, as it did so early in winter, and there was a cold drizzle in the air.

At first, no one answered his knock, until he kept up a continuous barrage that caused heads to poke angrily out of neighboring windows, roundly cursing him.

The front door flew open and a large woman with her hair tied up in a scarf glared at him, her raw-boned hands clenched into fists. “What d’you want, making that racket? He ain’t here!”

His stomach dove. “Where is Captain Tybalt? Has he gone back to sea?” Please, no, not yet …

“What’s it to you?”

“I owe him something,” Solomon said cunningly.

“Tough. He don’t tell me where he’s going.” She would have shut the door in his face if he hadn’t been ready for the move. He caught the edge of the door in one hand and inserted his boot to prevent it closing.

The woman looked slightly stunned.

“And you are?” he demanded.

“I’m just the bloody cleaning woman!”

Why would he need the cleaning woman if he had gone to sea? “When will he be back?”

“He didn’t say.”

“Then when did he leave?”

“Couple of hours ago, maybe,” she answered with reluctance. “If you’ve got something for him, I’ll take it in.”

Solomon held her gaze. “I’ll give it to the lady.”

The woman looked genuinely confused. “What lady? There’s no lady here.”

Reluctantly, Solomon believed her.

He touched his hat, removed his foot from the danger of violence, and told the waiting hackney to take him back to Grosvenor Square and Constance.

*

Captain Tybalt, having alighted from the train at Folkestone Harbor, left the station against two tides of people, one swarming in the direction of the Boulogne ferry, and the other who had just got off the ship to return by railway to London and all points beyond.

After a moment’s hesitation, he turned away from the town. He knew her well enough to try the beach first. It was pebbly rather than sandy, but still a pretty place from which to look out to sea as the sun went down. Even in the drizzle that seemed to have followed him from London.

It took him some time, and it wasn’t the pleasantest of strolls, with the wind off the sea freezing the moisture on his face and hurting his ears.

How come he never noticed such discomforts at sea, when they were so miserable on land?

The relentless drizzle formed a semitransparent mist in front of his eyes.

Since the weather had driven most people indoors, he followed the one speck he could make out in the distance until it resolved into the unmistakable, endearingly untidy shape of Audrey Lloyd.

She wore a surprisingly bright shawl over her old bonnet to keep off the rain.

Or as the symbol of the brave new life she had chosen.

He wished she had chosen it—he wished they both had—seven years ago.

She seemed to become aware of his footsteps on the shifting pebbles, for she halted and turned quickly to face him, almost losing her footing.

He reached out to catch her arm and she stumbled back from instinct, before he steadied her. She peered through her rain-misted spectacles, looking surprised in that vague yet unafraid way of hers that was quite unique.

“Captain Tybalt,” she said with a smile.

He raised his hat. “Miss Lloyd. May I join you? And may I further suggest we turn around and seek some shelter?”

“Yes,” she said willingly enough, accepting his proffered arm.

“They know you’ve gone,” Tybalt said. “Your nieces found you out this morning.”

“Did they?” she said wistfully, then smiled again. “Don’t worry, I’m not going back.”

He had never seen her eyes so determined. Nor were they vague in the slightest. There had always been more to Audrey than the obvious, and the world—including Tybalt—had been unbelievably foolish not to realize it.

“I’m glad you’ve come,” she said. “I have been so worried.”