"Is that so?" said Will, one eyebrow arched. "Every man?"

Elizabeth narrowed an eye at him. "Are you infatuated with Giselle Somerville?"

"Of course not." Will laughed. "She could never engage my interests, Elizabeth. Surely you know me that well."

With a sigh of relief, Elizabeth began to pace again. "Well, I am glad to hear it. Now, more important than Giselle Somerville--what did you think of Mr. Moncrieff? Did you trust him?"

With a shrug Will said, "He is Carryck's man, and will have considerable connections here."

From the first officer's cabin where Curiosity had gone to rest there was a fit of coughing. Elizabeth turned in that direction and waited until it had passed. When she was sure that Curiosity did not need her help, she resumed her pacing, which seemed now to have some good effect on Lily. The baby yawned so widely that Elizabeth might have laughed, if she were not trying so hard to get her to settle.

"I did not ask about Carryck, Will. I asked if you mistrusted Moncrieff."

He sighed. "You are not changed at all, Elizabeth. Very well, then, I had only a day with the man. He is not a retiring character."

Lily had finally fallen into a real sleep and Elizabeth eased her gently into the basket, so that it was a moment before she could turn to her cousin. "Ah. I take it then that his talkativeness set you on guard. He told you then about his theories regarding Hawkeye's parentage?"

Will brought Daniel to her so he could be put down next to his sister. "Yes, he did. He was just out of gaol that morning and highly agitated by the report of the fire and the escape--as was I, of course. I expect that otherwise he would not have been so indiscreet." With one finger he rubbed a scar on his chin that dated from a particularly rousing game of archery when they had been no more than twelve. Elizabeth was taken by a sudden and unexpected swell of homesickness for a time when life had been simpler. Now when she looked at Will he glanced away, as if he had more bad news and did not know where to start.

He said, "You seem very unconcerned by the fact that you may have married into one of the richest lines in Scotland. Carryck is a major shareholder in the East India Company. His personal fleet alone brings in a fortune season by season."

In her relief, Elizabeth laughed out loud. "Is that all? I thought you were about to tell me that Moncrieff was an agent of the king's and on his way here to arrest us all."

"Ah. Then you do not think that Hawkeye is Carryck's heir."

"I did not say that. I think he very well may be. But even so, Hawkeye has not the slightest interest in the connection. And Nathaniel feels as his father does."

That calm gaze was designed to uncover the slightest inconsistency in an opponent's story, and he leveled it at her now. "But what of you, Elizabeth? It would be a far easier life than this one, to be the wife of Carryck's heir. And your son's birthright, as well--I should think it hard to overlook that. Do not look so surprised. This must have occurred to you."

Elizabeth sat down. "But you have surprised me, Will. I may yearn for simplicity, but an easy life has never been my goal. You of all people know that. And as far as my son is concerned--" She looked toward the sleeping children. "He has no need of what Carryck can offer. We Bonners do not put a great deal of value on worldly goods, in case you had not noticed."

"Hmm." Will's gaze flickered toward the bag that he had returned to Elizabeth and Nathaniel earlier in the day. It sat in the clutter of Pickering's desk and might have been full of pebbles, for all the concern that had been shown about it. Elizabeth reached over and took it up, weighed it in her hand.

"I promised to tell you about the gold," she said. "It is a long and quite complicated story."

"Your stories often are, since you came to the Americas."

There was a knock at the door, and Robbie's glowing white hair appeared. In front of him, a head shorter and half his width, was Angus Moncrieff. The dark eyes were sharp in the long, angular face; he cocked his head and put Elizabeth in mind of a magpie on the prowl for shiny things to line its nest.

She slipped the bag of gold into the basket at the babies' feet and tucked the blanket over it.

"Madam," said the Scotsman with a deep bow that made her almost regret her uncharitable thoughts. "It is my verra great honor. I am sorry not to find your guidman and his father with you."

There was a great rush of footsteps from the deck.

Elizabeth said, "Your timing is very good, Mr. Moncrieff. I believe that must be them now."

But it was Captain Pickering, who came with news of a mishap with the canoe. He had seen it from the quarterdeck, where he had been in conversation with his first officer. In a sparse few sentences he let them know what had happened. His tone was calm, but Elizabeth saw considerable alarm in his expression.

"The cabin boy is on his way with more blankets," he said. "Shall I send for my surgeon?"

"Perhaps an apothecary," Will suggested.

"Ginger tea," said Robbie. "Ma mither claimed there was nowt better for a sudden chill."

"A hot toddy," suggested Moncrieff.

Curiosity announced her presence at the door with a rap of her knuckles on the paneled wall.

"Men," she summarized with a throaty croak. "Fallin' all over each other on account of a little cold water. The child'll need dry clothes and a warm bed to start with. Mr. Spencer, you free to show your face--be so kind as to go over to the Isis and ask that Hakim fellow for any willow bark he can spare, and chamomile, if he got it." She punctuated these orders with a cough smothered in her handkerchief.