"I never consider an interruption by a beautiful woman an intrusion, Mademoiselle Groliere," he said smoothly. "And I assure you that the business of attending these dull documents can wait."
Janine entered quickly and shut the door behind her. Then she sighed inaudibly.
If Sir Ian was aware of her tension, he gave no indication of it. He slipped into his jacket and drew a chair out from the table. "You have been seeking me, you said." His black eyes glinted shrewdly, but his voice was reassuring, soothing.
The girl moved toward the chair as if to sit, then changed her mind and grasped the back for support. "I—I actually wish to see the Duchess. I have been very troubled, sir, and I am not sure that I am doing that which is right. But your England has been good to me. I was educated there, and my friends are there. So I Would be disloyal to King William if I did not come forward with what I know."
"Disloyal, mademoiselle?" Sir lan's black brows drew together for a second as he sat down, elegant and at ease.
"I—yes." Janine's green eyes were troubled, and she twisted and curled one end of her scarf. "May I be permitted to see the Duchess Caroline?"
The Scotsman's thin lips parted m a humorless smile. "When you address me, you are dealing with Her Grace. Now, mademoiselle"—his tone became cold—"what is all this about disloyalty to Their Majesties?"
Janine glared at him. "I can speak to no one but the Duchess."
"I insist you tell me," he rasped. "Shall I rouse Captain Groliere, or "
"That will not be necessary," Janine replied loftily. "It was while we were in New York Town, refitting for this sailing." Her knuckles showed white as she clutched the back of the chair. "Papa and I made our home there at an inn known as Van der Voort's Ordinary."
"Oh?" He seemed disinterested, even bored.
"Papa was much about the town, recruiting his crew and arranging for the cargo of salted cod, so I—I spent most of my time alone." Janine faltered, and her voice dwindled away.
"Pray continue, mademoiselle." Sir Ian showed his irritation plainly. "Her Grace and I have considerable work of state to occupy us this evening, and I cannot spend unlimited amounts of time listening to irrelevancies."
Janine started toward the door. "I have been wasting your time, Sir Ian," she murmured. "It is as I feared. Please forgive this intrusion. I shall not repeat it."
"Enough of this nonsense!" The Scotsman raised his voice sharply. "Come back here and finish your story. Her Grace represents the Crown in this part of the world, and if there has been disloyalty to William and Mary, it is your duty to repeat to me what you know. At once, mademoiselle!"
Lifting her head and taking a deep breath, she started again. "It was while we were living at the ordinary that I—I saw Master Bartlett."
A shadow crossed Sir lan's face; he made no effort to conceal his dislike for Terence Bartlett, but he said nothing. Leaning back and clasping his long, thin fingers over a silk-clad knee, he nodded for Janine to continue.
"A maiden dining alone in a public inn can be subjected to many embarrassments. Sir Ian, so Papa made arrangements with Mynheer van der Voort for me to be served my meals at a table located in a small alcove where I would not be noticed. However, I could see most things that transpired in the common room, and I saw Master Bartlett almost every day." Two red spots appeared on her cheeks, and she began to speak very rapidly. "Terence Bartlett was well known to all at the ordinary. He drank very large amounts of sack each day, and each day he became very drunk "
"And you feel there is some disloyalty to Their Majesties because Her Grace has taken a sot into her employ?" The baronet laughed unpleasantly. "We knew about Master Bartlett's bad habit before Her Grace accepted him into her entourage. We "
Janine held up her hand to halt his outburst. She had become very pale and was shaking visibly. "He is not Terence Bartlett," she whispered.
"I beg your pardon?"
"The man who is posing as Terence Bartlett is I don't know who he is. I only know that he is not the Terence Bartlett who resided at Van der Voort's Ordinary in New York Town."
Sir Ian was on his feet. "This is a very grave accusation, mademoiselle."
"I make it reluctantly. I have spoken out only because it is my duty." She looked as though she would burst into tears.
"You are sure that what you charge is correct. Mademoiselle Groliere?" The Scotsman's eyes were inscrutable now.
"I am sure, Sir Ian."
He stared for a long minute at one of the flickering candles. The brig was beginning to roll and pitch, but he seemed unaware of the motion. "How many people have you told this news?"
The question startled Janine, and she drew herself up indignantly. "I have told no one, Sir Ian!" she flared. "I have had no wish to harm the young man who has been calling himself Terence Bartlett, for he seems to be a—a very pleasant person. I have come to you now only because I have been fighting with my own conscience and could think of no other honorable course of action."
He fingered his lace cuffs and stared at a point in space directly over her head. "Naturally you have told your father?"
"No, I have not!" Janine stamped her foot. "As I've already told you, I've spoken of this matter to no one!"
Sir Ian favored her with a short bow. "You have behaved with admirable discretion, mademoiselle. I charge you to continue to remain silent until you receive further instructions. There are many complications on a high level, and only Her Grace—personally—can make decisions as to what will be done. You may be sure that she will come to the right conclusion and that the right course of action will result, for she is a brilliant woman, brilliant. However, you need not be concerned with such matters. You have done your duty, and you may be sure that Their Majesties will not be ungrateful to you."
"I will do as you ask," she said in a strained voice, "and will speak of this to no one. You have no further need of me, Sir Ian?"
His smile grew broader. "I believe you have failed to understand me, mademoiselle. You have assured your own future by making this revelation to me. I am sure that Her Grace will reward you liberally "
"I want no reward, Sir Ian!" The tears came now in a sudden flood, and Janine seemed unable to stop them. She groped blindly for the latch and fled down the passageway to her own cabin.
Sir Ian closed the door, removed his jacket methodically, and sat down once again at the table. He picked up his quill pen, then musingly tapped it on the oak. He began to laugh, quietly at first, then with gusto. It was not a pleasant sound.
Chapter Four
IT WAS almost midnight when the gale struck with full fury, and the brig tossed and bobbed, pitched and wallowed, completely at the mercy of the giant waves that crashed over her bow in angry foam. Captain Groliere tried to keep the Bonnie Maid running before the wind, but it was a task that had half the crew scurrying up and down the lines. However, after long labor the brig's master seemed to be winning his struggle against the violent seas and screaming winds.
When the storm had first broken, the passengers had been ordered to keep to their cabins, where they would be comparatively safe and would not impede the work of the crew. By midnight the gale began to subside somewhat, and the mate had all ropes tightened. Four men continued to work at the pumps in the hold, for the operation could not be stopped until the winds died and the Bonnie Maid sailed into calm waters. Part of the cargo had shifted during the first savage onslaught, but no attempt would or could be made to rearrange the bales and boxes in the hold for hours to come; a man who tried to crawl into that mass of sliding, lurching crates would be courting death.