Page 34 of The Marquess of Temptation
"Thank you, my Lord," the young man laughed, "But I'm well acquainted with being soaked to the bone --perils of the occupation, as you well understand."
"You're off duty now," Alex reminded him, "You have every right to be dry. Sit down and I'll fetch you some tea."
The kitchen was not a room that Alex would consider his area of expertise, though he managed to make the young Captain a cup of tea without causing too much mess. The Captain took the cup with thanks and Alex noted that, while his clothes were as fine as any gentleman's, the Captain had the hands of a man who worked.
The door opened and Hestia slipped into the room, just as Alex was taking a seat.
"My dear," he said, standing again at the sight of his wife, "This is Captain Black, your father's old friend. Captain Black, I'd like to introduce you to my wife, the Marchioness of Falconbridge."
"A pleasure, my Lady" Black, who had also stood on Hestia's arrival gave a bow. If he was shocked that the man he had met less than a month ago, had gone on to marry the ward that he had proclaimed he did not want, the Captain's handsome face hid it well.
"I take it then, that your business with me is related to the late David Stockbow?" Black asked, once a chair had been fetched for Hestia.
"You would be right," Alex leaned forward, watching the Captain closely for any signs of unease. He saw none, Black seemed relaxed, he wore the look of a man anticipating a friendly conversation, rather than an inquisition.
"Did you know my father well, Captain?"
Hestia was the first to speak, her face bright with hope. Alex felt a wrenching in his gut; he did not want his wife to hear anything bad said against her father, but he feared the worst. Worse still, it had to be done-- for they would never solve the mystery of Stockbow's death, unless they understood how he had lived the last years of his life.
"I knew him a little," the Captain cleared his throat nervously, as he addressed the Marchioness. "For the first few years of my apprenticeship in the Navy, your father was quite the legend. In fact, he attacked the first ship I ever sailed on."
"Oh, dear," Hestia chewed her lip nervously, evidently unhappy at this news.
"No," the Captain laughed easily, "Don't be upset. He was quite gallant. In fact he saved my life. A few of us young tars had ignored our Captain's instructions to surrender. I soon found myself with a knife against my throat, and only for your father's interrupting my would-be killer, I would not be here to tell the tale."
This seemed to mollify Hestia, and the look of distress left her face. Alex frowned; he knew that he needed to question Black on Stockbow's activities during the war, but feared that Hestia's relief would be short-lived if he did.
"Did you ever meet him again, after that?" Hestia asked, interrupting Alex's train of thought.
"I did," the Captain was solemn now. He sighed deeply, as though weighing his words before he spoke them. "During the war your father acted as a spy for the British --it was easy for him to convince the French that he had little interest in a British Victory."
Alex looked up, startled by this turn of events. He had thought Stockbow a traitor; a stab of guilt pierced his heart. He had been so quick to judge the man, because he had been a pirate, but even thieves had honour, it seemed.
"He carried messages, wounded soldiers, even arms, across the channel. It was quite risky," Black continued, "In fact, one of Napoleon's ships attacked him near Calais, just before war's end. It was lucky that my men and I happened upon the fighting. We managed to see the French off, and your father was able to transfer two-dozen infantry men, who were being returned home, safely to my ship."
"So he was a hero?" Hestia whispered, her eyes shining brightly.
"Of sorts, though he made me swear upon my life, to never tell a soul." Black laughed, a deep rumble that filled the room. With his dark black hair, tanned skin and the wicked glint in his eye, the young Captain looked momentarily like a pirate himself.
"He worked for England, but still reserved the right to pilfer as he pleased," Black looked deeply amused at this, "And the government allowed him--Whitehall were grateful for any help they could get, at the time."
"Can you think of anyone, anyone at all, that Stockbow might have crossed during his tenure for the Crown?" Alex asked. That David Stockbow had turned out to be a hero, of sorts, was heartening for his wife, but not for their investigation.
"I can't say," Black replied, shaking his head. "Stockbow was a thief, but he was known for always behaving with honour when he attacked a ship. There is no one, that I know of, who held a deep grudge against him."
Alex stifled a sigh; they were back to square one. Though the happiness in his wife's eyes was heartening, he felt a rising despair at the thought that Dubois might actually be guilty of murder.
The sound of the ladies leaving the parlour and traipsing up the stairs, all achatter, jolted the trio from their conversation.
"I had not realised the time," Captain Black said, rising to stand. "It was a pleasure to meet you again, my Lord."
"Do you have somewhere to stay for the night?" Alex questioned, he didn't want the poor chap sleeping out in the rain.
"I'll stay here, I think, if there's a bed," Black shrugged, nonchalant.
"I'm sure there's a room in Pemberton Hall, though if you desire to stay close to the town, I'm certain that Polly will put you up."
"Polly?"
