Page 24 of A Winter By the Sea
“Georgiana’s right,” Emily said, stifling her own desire to run. “The worst thing you can do is try to flee.”
Georgie added, “If we tell them it was an accident and you’re sorry, they’ll understand. Probably.”
Emily thought again of Captain Conroy’s stern looks and the duke’s reputation as a harsh military leader. He wouldn’t be as harsh with a lad not under his command, would he? And one so young?
“I will go with you,” Georgiana said bravely. “It was partly my fault as well.”
Emily lifted her chin in resolve. “We shall all go.”
Before they had taken two steps toward the house, one of its doors flew open, slamming against the outer wall with a bang. A menacing figure stormed out in their direction—Captain Conroy, posture battle-ready, expression furious. In his hand ... a gun of his own.
No, no, no.Emily stepped in front of the younger pair.
“Captain Conroy,” she said in a rush, lifting beseechinghands. “A thousand apologies. It was an accident. A foolish mistake. We were just coming to explain.”
Mr. Thomson, she noticed, followed the captain outside, his expression serious but less menacing.
“Explain?” The captain jerked an angry hand toward the house. “Explain a shot that broke the nursery window and narrowly missed the infant and her nurse? Glass fell into her cot! The duchess is most exceedingly alarmed. You expect us to believe it was a simple accident? The shot nearly struck the princess. How do we know this was not an assassination attempt?”
“Assass—? ’C-course not, sir,” Billy Hook stuttered, his face blanching.
Conroy turned and growled to Mr. Thomson, “Summon the constable or magistrate, or whoever pretends at authority in this rustic place.”
Mr. Thomson glanced from one to the other, his gaze lingering on Emily before returning to the man in charge. “Captain, I understand your concern, but no one was harmed. I believe them when they say it was an accident. The lad is young, and the ladies, well, I am acquainted with them, and they are of excellent character.”
Conroy glowered at him. “I did not ask for a character reference. I told you to summon a magistrate.”
Georgiana spoke up. “Billy was only shooting sparrows, sir. It was partly my fault. I tried to stop him and made his shot go awry.”
Billy nodded. “I’m usually a crack shot.”
Conroy’s black eyebrows drew together. “Crack shot, indeed.” He gestured toward the broken pane. “That was not done by simple bird shot. How do you explain the size of that hole? That was caused by a heavier type of shot.”
Billy hung his head. “It’s all I had at hand. Swan shot.”
Georgiana gaped.
“Swan shot!” The captain’s face turned the color of beetroot.
Again Mr. Thomson rose to the boy’s defense. “An unfortunate choice, I grant you. He probably did not realize the danger. Come. Why do we not all step inside out of the cold and talk this over calmly.”
The captain’s nostrils flared. Clearly, he was unaccustomed to being contradicted. “Very well. Then you may fetch pen and paper to record the boy’s information.” He turned and stalked back to the side door, and the others followed more slowly.
As they did, Georgiana again scowled at Billy, whispering, “Swan shot? What on earth were you—”
Emily pressed her arm to silence her. They had more important concerns to address at present.
The two men led them into a small, plain room just off the vestibule that held a desk and a few chairs—a morning room or former steward’s office, perhaps.
Inside, the captain gestured toward the desk, and Mr. Thomson reluctantly sat and picked up a quill. Then Conroy whirled on Billy. “Your full name, boy.”
The lad swallowed. “William Hook, sir.”
“And where do you live?”
“Above Mr. Tucker’s workshop. I’m his apprentice. He’ll be furious when he hears. Like to tan my hide.”
“That is the least of your problems, young man. If I learn there was evil intent or even mischief intended instead of an accident, I will see you punished to the full extent of the law. Do I make myself clear?”
