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CHAPTER 1
May 1824
London
Captain Robert Frobisher strolled at his ease along Park Lane, his gaze on the rippling green canopies of the massive trees in Hyde Park.
He’d steered his ship, The Trident, up the Thames on the previous evening’s tide. They’d moored at Frobisher and Sons’ berth in St. Katherine’s Dock, and after he’d dealt with all the associated palaver, it had been too late to call on anyone. This morning, he’d dutifully gone into the company office in Burr Street; as soon as the customary formalities had been completed and the bulk of his crew released for the day, he’d jumped into a hackney and headed for Mayfair. But rather than driving directly to his brother Declan’s house, he’d had the jarvey let him down at the end of Piccadilly so that he could take a few minutes to drink in the green. He spent so much of his life looking at the sea, being reminded of the beauties of land was no bad thing.
A self-deprecating smile curving his lips, he turned the corner into Stanhope Street. Barely ten o’clock was an unfashionably early hour at which to call at a gentleman’s residence, but he felt sure his brother and his brother’s new wife, the lovely Edwina, would welcome him with open arms.
The morning was fine, if a touch crisp, with the sun intermittently screened by gray clouds scudding across the pale sky.
Declan and Edwina resided at Number 26. Looking down the street, Robert saw a black carriage pulled up by the curb farther along.
Premonition swept cool fingers across his nape. Early as it was, there was no other conveyance waiting in the short residential street.
As he continued strolling, idly swinging his cane, a footman perched on the rear of the carriage saw him; instantly, the footman leapt down to the pavement and moved to open the carriage door.
Increasingly intrigued, Robert watched, wondering who would descend. Apparently, he wouldn’t need to check the house numbers to discover which house was his goal.
The gentleman who, with languid grace, stepped out of the carriage and straightened was as tall as Robert, as broad-shouldered and lean. Sable hair framed a face the features of which screamed his station.
Wolverstone. More precisely, His Grace, the Duke of Wolverstone, known in the past as Dalziel.
Given Wolverstone was plainly waiting to waylay and speak with him, Robert surmised that Wolverstone’s status as commander of British agents outside of the isles had, at least temporarily, been restored.
Robert’s cynical, world-weary side wasn’t all that surprised to see the man.
But the gentleman who, much less elegantly, followed Wolverstone from the carriage was unexpected. Portly and very precisely attired, with a fussy, somewhat prim air, the man tugged his waistcoat into place and fiddled with his fob chain; from long experience of the breed, Robert pegged him as a politician. Along with Wolverstone, the man turned to face Robert.
As Robert neared, Wolverstone nodded. “Frobisher.” He held out his hand.
Robert transferred his cane to his other hand; returning the nod, he grasped Wolverstone’s hand, then shifted his gaze to Wolverstone’s companion.
Releasing Robert, Wolverstone waved gracefully. “Allow me to present Viscount Melville, First Lord of the Admiralty.”
Robert managed not to raise his brows. He inclined his head. “Melville.” What the devil’s afoot?
Melville curtly nodded back, then drew in a portentous breath. “Captain Frobisher—”
“Perhaps,” Wolverstone smoothly interjected, “we should adjourn inside.” His dark eyes met Robert’s gaze. “Your brother won’t be surprised to see us, but in deference to Lady Edwina, we thought it best to await your arrival in the carriage.”
The notion that consideration of Edwina’s possible reaction held the power to influence Wolverstone even that much... Robert fought not to grin. His sister-in-law was a duke’s daughter and thus of the same social stratum as Wolverstone, yet Robert would have wagered there were precious few who Wolverstone would even think to tiptoe gently around.
Curiosity burgeoning in leaps and bounds, at Wolverstone’s wave, Robert led the way up the steps to the narrow front porch.
He hadn’t previously called at this house, but the butler who opened the door to his knock recognized him instantly. The man’s face lit. “Captain Frobisher.” Then the butler noticed the other two men, and his expression turned inscrutable.
Realizing the man didn’t know either Wolverstone or Melville, Robert smiled easily. “I gather these gentlemen are acquainted with my brother.”
He didn’t need to say more—Declan must have heard the butler’s greeting; he appeared through a doorway down the hall.
Smiling, Declan strode forward. “Robert—well met!”
They grinned and clapped each other on the shoulders, then Declan noticed Wolverstone and Melville. Declan’s expression shuttered, but then he looked at Robert, a question evident in his blue eyes.
Robert arched a brow back. “They were waiting outside.”
“Ah. I see.”
From Declan’s tone, Robert gathered that his brother was uncertain whether Wolverstone and Melville’s appearance was good news or bad.
Yet with assured courtesy, Declan welcomed Wolverstone and Melville, shaking their hands. “Gentlemen.” As the butler shut the door, Declan caught Wolverstone’s eye. “The drawing room might be best.”
Wolverstone inclined his head, and the butler moved to throw open the door to their left.
Declan waved Wolverstone, Melville, and Robert through; as Declan started to follow, Robert heard the butler ask, “Should I inform her ladyship, sir?”
Without hesitation, Declan replied, “Please.”
Sinking into one of the numerous armchairs spread around the cozy room, Robert was surprised that Declan hadn’t even paused before summoning his wife to attend what was clearly destined to be a business meeting—although of what business, Robert couldn’t guess.
Declan had barely had a chance to offer his guests refreshments—which they all declined—before the door opened and Edwina swept in, bringing all four men to their feet.
Fetchingly gowned in cornflower-blue-and-white-striped silk, she looked happy and delighted—glowing with an uncomplicated enthusiasm for life. Although her first smile was for Declan, in the next breath, she turned her radiance on Robert and opened her arms. “Robert!”
He couldn’t help but smile widely in return and allow her the liberty of an embrace. “Edwina.” He’d met her several times, both at his parents’ home as well as at her family’s, and he thoroughly approved of her; from the first, he’d seen her as precisely the right lady for Declan. He returned her hug and dutifully bussed the smooth cheek she tipped up to him.
Drawing back, she met his eyes. “I’m utterly delighted to see you! Did Declan tell you we planned to make this our London base?”
She barely paused for his answer—and his quick look at Declan—before she inquired about The Trident and his immediate plans for the day. After he told her of his ship’s position and his lack of any plans, she informed him that he would be staying for luncheon and also to dine.
Then she turned to greet Wolverstone and Melville. The ease she displayed toward them made it clear she was already acquainted with them both.
At Edwina’s gracious wave, they resettled in the armchairs and sofa, and the next minutes went in general converse, led, of course, by Edwina.
Noting the quick smiling looks she shared with Declan, and noting his brother’s response, Robert felt a distinct pang of envy. Not that he coveted Edwina; he liked her, but she was too forceful a personality for his taste. Declan needed a lady like her to balance his own character, but Robert’s character was quite different.
He was the diplomat of the family, careful and cautious, while his three brothers were reckless hellions.
“Well, then.” Apparently satisfied with what Wolverstone had deigned to share about his family’s health, Edwina clasped her hands in her lap. “Given you gentlemen are here, I expect Declan and I had better tell Robert about how we’ve spent the last five weeks—about the mission and what we discovered in Freetown.”
Mission? Freetown? Robert had thought that, while he’d been on the other side of the Atlantic, Declan and Edwina had remained in London. Apparently not.
Edwina arched a brow at Wolverstone.
His expression impassive, he inclined his head. “I daresay that will be fastest.”
Robert didn’t miss the resignation in Wolverstone’s tone.
He felt sure Edwina didn’t either, but she merely smiled approvingly at Wolverstone, then transferred her bright gaze to Declan. “Perhaps you had better start.”
Entirely sober, Declan looked at Robert and did.
Between them, Declan and Edwina related a tale that kept Robert transfixed.
That Edwina had stowed away and joined Declan on his run south wasn’t really that much of a surprise. But the puzzling situation in Freetown—and the consequent danger that had stalked them and, beyond anyone’s ability to predict, had reached out and touched Edwina—was a tale guaranteed to capture and hold his attention.
By the time Edwina concluded with a reassurance that she’d taken no lasting harm from the events of their last night in Freetown, Robert no longer had any doubt as to why Wolverstone and Melville had been waiting on the doorstep to waylay him.
Melville huffed and promptly confirmed Robert’s assumption. “As you can see, Captain Frobisher, we are in desperate need of someone with similar capabilities as your brother to travel to Freetown as fast as may be and continue our investigation.”
Robert glanced at Declan. “I take it this falls under our...customary association with the government?”
Wolverstone stirred. “Indeed.” He met Robert’s eyes. “There are precious few others who could do the job, and no one else with a fast ship in harbor.”
After a second of holding Wolverstone’s dark gaze, Robert nodded. “Very well.” This was a far cry from his usual voyages ferrying diplomats—or diplomatic secrets of whatever sort—back and forth, but he could see the need, could appreciate the urgency. And he’d sailed into Freetown before.
He looked at Declan. “Is this why there were no orders waiting for me at the office?” He’d been surprised to learn that; the demand for his services was usually so great that The Trident was rarely free for more than a few days, and Royd and his Corsair often had to take on the overload.
Declan nodded. “Wolverstone informed Royd the government would most likely need to call on another of us once The Cormorant got back, and fortuitously, you were due in. I received a missive from Royd, and there’s one waiting for you in the library—we’re free of our usual business and are to devote our services to the Crown.”
Robert dipped his head in acknowledgment. He tapped his fingers on the chair’s arm as he sifted through all Declan and Edwina had revealed, adding in Wolverstone’s dry comments and Melville’s few utterances. He narrowed his eyes, in his mind studying the jigsaw-like picture he’d assembled from the facts. “All right. Let’s see if I have this straight. Four serving officers have gone missing, one after another, along with at least four young women and an unknown number of other men. These disappearances occurred over a period of four months or more, and the few instances known to have been discussed with Governor Holbrook, he dismissed as due to those involved having gone off to seek their fortune in the jungle or elsewhere. Some such excuse. In addition, seventeen children from the slums are also missing, apparently disappearing over much the same period, with Holbrook brushing their vanishing aside as children running off—nothing more nefarious.
“Currently, there is nothing to say if Holbrook is trying to suppress all interest in this spate of missing people because he’s involved, or whether his attitude springs from some other entirely noncriminal belief. Regardless, Lady Holbrook has proved to be definitely involved, and it’s doubtful she’ll still be in the settlement, but you would like me to verify whether Holbrook himself is still at his post. If he is, then we presume him innocent—or at least unaware of whatever is driving these kidnappings.” Robert arched a brow at Wolverstone. “Correct?”
Wolverstone nodded. “I haven’t met Holbrook, but from what I’ve been able to learn, he doesn’t seem the type to be involved. However, he might well be the type of official who will refuse to react until the unpalatable truth is staring him in the face—until circumstances force him to it.”
Robert added that shading to his mental jigsaw. “To continue, in the case of the missing adults, there are reasonable grounds on which to believe that they’re being selected in some way and that attendance at the local priest Obo Undoto’s services in some way facilitates that. We know nothing about how the children are taken, other than that it’s not through any connection with Undoto’s services.”
Declan shifted. “We can’t even be sure the missing children are being taken by the same people or for the same reason as the missing adults.”
“But given that young women have been taken as well as men,” Edwina put in, “there has to be a possibility that all the missing, children as well as adults, are being...used in the same way.” Her chin firmed. “By the same villains.”
Robert paused, then said, “Regardless of whether the children are going to the same place, given the priestess’s claims—none of which have yet proven unfounded, so let’s assume she spoke true—Undoto and his services are clearly the obvious place to look for the beginnings of a trail.”
No one argued. After a second of considering the picture taking shape in his mind, Robert went on, “If I’ve understood correctly, the vodun priestess Lashoria, Reverend Hardwicke, and even more his wife, an old sailor named Sampson, and Charles Babington are people you”—he glanced at Declan and Edwina—“consider safe sources.”
Both nodded. Declan stated, “They’re potential allies and might well be willing to play an active hand in helping you learn more.” He met Robert’s eyes. “Babington especially. I believe he has a personal interest in one of the young women who has gone missing, but I didn’t get a chance to pursue that or him further. But he can command resources within the settlement that might prove useful.”
Melville cleared his throat. “There’s also Vice-Admiral Decker. We have no reason to imagine he has any involvement in whatever heinous crime is under way in the settlement.” He all but glowered at Declan. “I gave your brother a letter enabling him to call on Decker’s support. I believe I worded it generally, so it will apply to you as it would have to him.”
Declan dipped his head. “Decker wasn’t in port while I was there. I still have the letter—I’ll give it to you.”
Robert wasn’t fooled by Declan’s noncommittal tone; he wouldn’t be tripping over his toes to ask any favors of Decker, either. Indeed, he hoped the vice-admiral remained at sea throughout his visit to the settlement.
“Regardless,” Wolverstone said, “I cannot stress enough how critical it is that whatever occurs while you’re on this mission, you must not at any point do anything to alert the perpetrators to any level of official interest. We must protect the lives of those taken—sending in a rescue team who find only dead bodies isn’t something any of us wish to even contemplate. Given that we cannot be certain who of those in authority in the settlement is involved, and conversely who is safe to trust, every action you take must remain covert.”
Robert nodded curtly. The more he heard—the more he dwelled on all he’d learned—remaining covert first to last seemed his wisest choice.
“So, Captain,” Melville said bracingly, “we need you to go into Freetown, follow the trail your brother has identified, and learn all the details of this nefarious scheme.”
Melville’s expression was a blend of belligerence and something much closer to pleading. Robert recognized the signs of a politician facing a threat beyond his control.
Before he could respond, Wolverstone softly said, “Actually, no.” Wolverstone caught Robert’s gaze. “We cannot ask you to learn all the details.”
From the corner of his eye, Robert saw Melville’s face fall as he stared at Wolverstone, who, in this matter, was effectively his mentor.
As if unaware of the angst he was causing, Wolverstone smoothly went on, “From what your brother has said, and from all I’ve learned from others over recent days, given that those effecting the kidnappings are slave traders, then I gather that in Freetown, as generally in that region, the slave traders will be operating out of a camp. They will hold their captives at that camp until they have a sufficient number to take to whoever they’re supplying. Further, the camp will almost certainly be outside the settlement’s borders, somewhere in the jungle, possibly some distance away.”
Wolverstone glanced at Declan, who, his expression impassive, nodded.
Imperturbably, Wolverstone continued, his gaze returning to Robert’s face, “Consequently, this mission is highly unlikely to be accomplished in only two stages. There will be however many stages we require to learn what we need to know, all without alerting the villains involved. Your brother”—he paused, then inclined his head to Edwina—“and Lady Edwina got us the first vital clues. They identified Undoto’s services as being a part of the scheme and gave us the connection to the slave traders. They also confirmed that those in high places in the settlement are involved, something we must strive never to forget. If Lady Holbrook was suborned, almost certainly others will have been as well.”
Wolverstone’s gaze cut to Melville, but although he looked dejected and, indeed, disgruntled, the First Lord made no attempt to interrupt.
“Therefore,” Wolverstone continued, “your mission must be to confirm the slave traders’ connection to Undoto and, by following the slavers, to identify the location of their camp. Your orders are specifically that. Locate the slavers’ camp, then return and report. You must not follow the trail further, no matter the temptation.”
Wolverstone paused, then added, “I appreciate that, very likely, that will not be an easy directive to follow—it’s not one I take joy in giving. But in order to mount a rescue of all those taken, it’s imperative we learn of the location of that camp. If you go further and are captured yourself...put simply, all those missing can’t afford that. If you are taken, we won’t know until your crew return to tell us. And once they do, we’ll be no further forward than we are now—no nearer the point of knowing enough to effectively rescue those taken.”
Wolverstone glanced at Melville; when he looked back at Robert, his features had hardened. “Running a mission in successive stages may seem like a slow way forward, but it is a sure way forward, and those taken deserve our best attempts to successfully free them.”
Robert met Wolverstone’s gaze; two seconds ticked past, then he nodded. “I’ll locate the slavers’ camp and bring the information back.”
Simple. Straightforward. He saw no reason to argue. If he had to sail to Freetown and do this mission, he was glad enough that it should have such a definite and definable endpoint.
Wolverstone inclined his head. “Thank you.” He looked at Melville. “We’ll leave you to prepare.”
Melville rose, as did everyone; he offered Robert his hand. “How long before you and your ship will be ready to depart?”
Robert gripped Melville’s hand. “A few days.” As hands were shaken all around and they moved toward the door, Robert thought through the logistics. He halted at the doorway and spoke to all. “I’ll send The Trident to Southampton to provision from the stores there. I imagine I’ll be able to set sail in three days.”
Melville humphed, but said no more. From his expression, Robert surmised that the First Lord was even more deeply troubled by the situation in Freetown than Wolverstone.
Then again, Wolverstone had no real responsibility to shoulder in this instance, while Melville...as Robert understood it, as First Lord, Melville had his neck metaphorically on the block, at least politically, and possibly even socially.
Robert returned to the armchair opposite the sofa. While Declan and Edwina farewelled their unexpected guests, he swiftly reviewed all he’d been told.
When Declan and Edwina reentered the drawing room and resumed their seats, he looked from one to the other. “All right. Now tell me all.”
As he’d assumed, the pair had a great deal more to impart to him of society in Freetown, of all the characters who had played even small parts in their own drama, of the sights, sounds, and dangers of the slums, and so much more that, he knew, could well prove helpful, and perhaps even critical, once he was on the ground in the settlement.
The hours slid by unnoticed by any of them.
When the clocks struck one, they repaired to the dining parlor and continued their discussions over a substantial meal. Robert grinned when he saw the platters being brought in. “Thank you,” he said to Edwina. “Shipboard food is good enough, but it’s nice to eat well when one can.”
Eventually, they returned to the comfort of the drawing room. Having exhausted all the facts and most of the speculation applicable, they finally turned to the ultimate question of what purpose lay behind the strange kidnappings.
