Page 28 of A Castaway in Cornwall
“No. I was hoping to reach Jersey. Do you know it?”
Laura’s heart lurched at the word.Jersey...
Hicks nodded. “An island near France.”
Eyes glinting, Alexander said, “A British Crown dependency, don’t forget.”
“Is that where yer from?”
“I have lived in many places. I was educated at Cambridge and on the continent. I have traveled a great deal.”
“Suppose that explains yer accent. Haven’t heard one exactly like it. Sounds a bit Frenchy to me.”
“They still speak French on Jersey, you know,” Alexander replied. “As well as traditional Jèrriais. But I’ve lived in England for years, most recently in Huntingdonshire.”
“Heard of it. Never been there.” Hicks consulted his notes. “And yer friend, Mr.... Marshall?”
“He was also on his way home.”
Hicks peered at him over the top of his notebook. “Risky to sail to Jersey while we’re at war with France.”
“Well do I know it. Yet it was not the French who stopped us, but the sea. Or perhaps more accurately the Doom Bar and Greenaway Rocks.”
“They’ve stopped many a ship before, I can tell ye. Can ye give me the names of any other men?”
Alexander’s eyes flashed to Laura’s and then away again.
“Miss Callaway showed me her descriptions of the victims. I saw the boy. A cheerful, hardworking lad, but the only name I heard him called was Ginger, on account of his hair. And the cook was a big man named Seymour. Beyond that, I can’t help you.”
He did not, she noticed, mention the man he believed to be missing from her list.
“Well,” Hicks said. “We’ll have the official list of passengersand crew soon enough.” The agent closed his notebook. “Thank you, Mr. Lucas.”
Alexander nodded. “Mr. Hicks.”
After the vicar and Mr. Hicks left, the agent’s words echoed through Alex’s mind,“We’ll have the official list of passengersand crew soon enough.”
Dread pulsed through him at the thought.
When the door closed behind them, he turned to Miss Callaway and confessed, “My friend and I won’t be on that list.”
She eyed him steadily. “Why not?”
“We were not registered passengers. The captain agreed to carry us unofficially, happy to earn extra money.”
“I see. And why did you need to be unofficial?”
“The shipowners have policies. No unauthorized passengers allowed. Only duly trained crew. But many a captain has agreed to help a fellow in need of last-minute transportation.”
Her expression remained sober. “And why did you need last-minute transportation? You said you wanted to go home. Why the urgency? Especially knowing the risks?”
He studied her face. Sometimes the pretty young woman seemed so generous and accepting. Other times, like now, she was far too inquisitive. “You have missed your calling, Miss Callaway. You ought to have been a wreck agent like Mr. Hicks. You are a natural.”
Her golden brown eyes glinted. “Perhaps. But you, Mr. Lucas, are hiding something.”
He decided there was no point in denying it. “Yes, I am. Someday, perhaps, I shall tell you all, but not yet. Not until I know I can trust you.”
“And can I trust you?” she asked.
