"It looks very much like the Admiralty seal," he said at last.
"And the signatures?"
Hoare knew two of them. One, that of John Barrow, Second Secretary to the Admiralty Board, also appeared below the orders that Mr. Clay had read out for Hoare on the deck of Royal Duke, thus placing him in command of the yacht. The second was Sir Hugh Abercrombie's. Both could be gifted forgeries-as, of course, the Admiralty seal could be-but Hoare thought it unlikely. The paper bore the Admiralty watermark. Besides, what was he to do: question every piece of paper that came his way, and every statement? At the end of that corridor lay madness. A mad King was bad enough, but a mad Naval officer in the wrong place could put the entire nation in jeopardy.
The third signature on the document, in the same bold hand as the note by which she had summoned him, was Selene Prettyman's own. He stepped to the little boule desk, moistened a pen, and handed it to the lady. Briskly she signed. The signatures were the same.
So much for his glowing suspicions of Selene Prettyman; they must be doused. She must be as safe as the other signers, or as Britannia herself.
"I'll keep this paper, if I may," he said.
She smiled at him.
"Of course, you may not. Don't be silly," she answered, holding out her hand for it. "How else can I assure myself that I am, indeed, Selene Prettyman, nee Claiborne, and not some impostor?"
"And a friend of the Crown?"
"And a friend of the Crown. In any case, I have been engaged to ascertain whether the Duke is such a friend and, if he is not, what he is up to. That, of course, necessitates almost constant attendance upon his person."
"How have you managed that, if I may ask?" Hoare whispered.
"To be blunt, Captain Hoare, I must share his bed from time to time; it gives one no pleasure, by the by. That is why Colonel Prettyman is 'indisposed' at present. You will agree, I think, that having a cuckolded husband drifting about in the background is no small inconvenience to the consummation of adultery. So the poor man stays in London when I leave town and attends to his regiment of militia-in Cumberland, of all places-when I return. He really has very little to do."
"Very interesting," Hoare said, and waited for Selene Prettyman to come to the point of her summons.
"I invited you to call on me, Captain Hoare," she went on, "because I cannot juggle more balls than I now have in hand. Cumberland and his crowd of hangers-on are quite enough for one person to keep under observation. I must ask you to keep watch over the Frobisher coterie for me. The puzzling activities of Mr. Goldthwait of Chancery Lane must be delegated to another, and I must return to London posthaste to attend to that matter."
"Am I to understand then, Mrs. Prettyman, that you wish me to determine… if the 'Frobisher coterie,' as you called it, is engaged in occasional treason and-if so- when and how?"
"And to frustrate their knavish tricks, if they do so engage."
"I'll be happy to do so. Am I to do this alone, or may I call upon the talents of Royal Duke's crew? And why should the Frobisher group not be put out of the way in any case, whether they are committing treason or not?"
Selene Prettyman held up two fingers of one slender hand and touched one.
"To answer your first question: By all means, draw upon your crew. From what little I have heard-from Cumberland, for instance, who gave me a most entertaining report of his inspection of Royal Duke-your ship has unusual characteristics."
"Indeed," Hoare said.
She touched the second finger.
"To answer your second question: We do not know that Sir Thomas is a traitor. As it is, moreover, he and his friends command several important votes in the Commons and are not without influence in the upper house as well. The Admiralty and the Prime Minister are in agreement that the evidence must be overpowering before action is taken against them-if, indeed, action is to be taken at all. They may simply be a cluster of harmless eccentrics, like Francis Dashwood's Hell-Fire Club, for example. Or both."
"I understand," Hoare said. "Then I shall add this to Royal Duke's tasks. Frankly, I would find it a personal pleasure to put Sir Thomas in his place… We have never seen eye to eye. And, in any case, the task may not be so far afield from my current interests."
"How is that?" Selene Prettyman asked.
Hoare gave her an outline of his encounters with the Frobishers, including the suggestion that Sir Thomas and he were on a collision course with respect to a certain widow in Weymouth.
"Aha!" Mrs. Prettyman said on hearing this. "This makes amusing news. For I was thinking it might be well for you to visit Broadmead. Now I know you should. Sir Thomas will be there, if I do not mistake myself, on a mission that I deem quite unsuitable for a widower of his age and reputation. You know of Broadmead?"
"Miss Felicia Hardcastle mentioned the place the other evening, if my memory serves me. The Gladden estate, is it not?"
"Yes. And are you acquainted with the daughter, Miss Anne?"
"I met her once. It was last autumn, on the occasion of her brother's ordination."
"Of course," Mrs. Prettyman said. "The young man whom you saved from being hanged. Now, the girl's parents, and the girl herself, are in an interesting and difficult situation."
"Indeed?" Hoare wondered what the Gladdens had to do with the previous subject of conversation. Miss Gladden was lovely as a Dresden figurine and very little taller. He suspected that Sir Ralph and Lady Caroline Gladden were desperate to find a husband for their daughter. If this was the line Selene Prettyman was taking, it would not do.
"I fear that for a number of reasons I am not an appropriate suitor for the young lady's hand, Mrs. Prettyman."
"That is of no consequence," she said. "In any case, I shall mention you to Miss Felicia as a possible escort for her when she visits Broadmead. Before I leave for London, I shall make the necessary arrangements with her father. In fact, I shall commence now. There is not a moment to be lost."
She rose to her feet, indicating that their t+фte-a-t+фte was at an end.
"Before we part, Captain Hoare, let me give you a warning. Do not be surprised if you see me again in unexpected circumstances. If you do, please do not acknowledge me in any way unless I give you a sign. Let me see… yes. Unless I say something about 'friend of the Crown.' Understood?"
"Understood, ma'am. 'Friend of the Crown.' Until then." With that, Hoare made his farewell bow and let Angelique hold the door for him.
Hoare had vowed to himself that he would keep an engagement with his ward, Jenny Jaggery, at his former quarters at the Swallowed Anchor, to review her progress in writing her alphabet and to enjoy a cuddle. As he strolled eastward, then, he had to confess to himself that he regretted not having leavened the practical content of the meeting just concluded with at least a cuddle or two with a partner more mature than skinny little Jenny. Selene Prettyman was glorious to look upon, as others, including H. R. H. of Clarence, evidently agreed.
But then, who was he to meddle in royal amours? Better not, he thought. In any case, the lady had not shown the least sign of being attracted to him. Then, too, he had an unexpected duel to fight, and he must warn Bennett of the role he had assigned to him.
Chapter X
Jenny proved to have mastered the letter K and therefore to have earned her kitten. Hoare promised to bring it to her with his next visit. He then penned a request to Sir George as Port Admiral that he be permitted to sleep away from his command tonight and also wrote the necessary warning to Bennett. Hoare invited his prospective second to address a chop that evening.