Blake was standing at the bottom of the gangplank, holding his hat in his hands. He’d replaced the black mourning ribbon on the band with a blue that matched his eyes. “May I come aboard?”
My pulse quickened, but I had to know what brought him. Back at the stern, Rotgut was still fishing. It wasn’t as though I was leaving the ship. I beckoned Blake up the gangplank.
“You look well,” he said to me.
“Did you come to check after my well-being?”
He pursed his lips. “After the behavior of your ‘tutor’ . . .”
I blushed; I couldn’t help it. “You have the wrong idea.”
“I know.” He ran his hands along the hat brim, smoothing the ribbon. “But what’s the right one? I was convinced you were conspiring with the league, but it appears you were in fact conspiring against them. Thievery, my father said. What did you want with that old map?”
I swallowed. Denying it would be foolish at this point, but I couldn’t tell him the truth. At least, not all of it. “I . . . my father needs the map. Your father is willing to sell it if the league forgives his debts.”
It was his turn to blush, but he did not lower his gaze. “And what is the price?”
“It is . . . quite high.”
“Must be, to outstrip my father’s debts. And every penny they get, they’ll use to further their goals.” He rubbed his chin with one ink-stained finger. “So you were trying to steal the map instead. I’m sorry I interfered. If I’d known, I would have helped you.”
“You hate your father so much?”
Blake hesitated. “I cannot condone his actions.”
Hope rose in my throat. I took Blake’s arm and pulled him close enough to whisper. “You can still help. I’d be willing to pay you to—”
“Please, Miss Song. I would need no pay if only I could find the map. I looked this morning.” He shifted on his feet, still playing with the brim of his hat. “I have no right to ask, especially after my accusations, but if you could see your way to appeal to your father . . . ?” My laugh was bitter, and he nodded sadly. “I deserved that.”
“That’s not it,” I said. “I’ve tried to speak to him many times, but he will not be swayed.”
Blake’s slapped his hat against his thigh. “Why on earth is that map so valuable to him? I could do one similar in half an hour.”
“Similar, but not the same,” I said carefully. “The original is a . . . connection to my mother. It was drawn while she was still alive.”
He looked at me closely, his eyes the hard blue of sea ice. “Quite a lot of money to spend for something of sentimental value.”
Why was he so damnably observant? I shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant. “They say love makes fools of us all.”
His gaze was like a harpoon; I couldn’t look away. “They do say that.” He was quiet for a moment as I glanced from his face, to the sea, then back, and away again. “Miss Song,” he said finally. “There is some mystery here.”
“I can’t think what it might be,” I said breezily.
“I can’t either.” He cocked his head, studying me. The late afternoon sunlight shone in his hair like a crown. Suddenly he smiled. “But it’s very intriguing.”
I blinked. “Oh?”
“And it has been from the very first day you arrived. Under other circumstances, Miss Song, I may have come to the ship to make a very different appeal to your father.”
My eyes widened, and there was a feeling in my stomach then, like small fish leaping. These were uncharted waters, treacherous and strangely tempting. “Mr. Hart—” Then out of the corner of my eye, I saw a familiar pair returning to the ship. “You shouldn’t be here.”
He stiffened, chagrined. “I apologize for my boldness.”
“No, I mean—you really shouldn’t be here.”
I grabbed his arm and pulled him down to crouch behind the bulwark so Slate and Kashmir wouldn’t see him. I caught Rotgut’s glance; he had a hand over his mouth, and his expression was somewhere between amusement and alarm. I put my finger to my lips and a question in my eyes. He spread his hands, but he nodded once and waved us toward the hatch.
I took a moment to throw my silk dress over Swag’s bucket before I pulled Blake into my room and shut the door.
“What’s happening?”
“Keep your voice down!”
“Why?” he whispered.
“I don’t want him to know you’re here!”
“Who? The captain? Or Mr. Firas?”
I put my hands on my hips. “Your insinuations are not very gentlemanly!”
The corner of his mouth quirked up. “Neither is your tutor.”
I opened my mouth to respond but fell silent at the sound of footsteps on the deck above, and voices as they passed overhead.
“Come, Captain. How and where would we find so many we could trust?”