be. A Mr. Gillan has offered to take me on one of his ships. Regularly trades there, apparently. He also mentioned being acquainted with you.”
A surprising blush rose to her aunt’s cheeks. “Yes, a charming man, if a bit . . . eccentric.”
Alexander nodded. “My impression as well.”
“And when you reach Brittany?”
“I shall visit my father, and my brother in prison, and see what I might do to help secure his release.”
“In prison . . . why?”
Shame colored his features. “He has been charged with treason for spying. I hope to prove another man was the informant officials tracked to our village.”
Laura knew he referred to François LaRoche. Might he manage to escape the militia and return to Jersey?
“Spying for the British?” Aunt Susan asked.
“Perhaps.”
“Then you ought to speak to Admiral d’Auvergne.”
Wariness washed over Laura. That was the man LaRoche had worked for.
The captain’s brows rose in surprise. “Are you acquainted with him?”
Susan nodded. “My husband was. He might call here at my invitation, if and when his duties allow.”
Alexander made a wry face. “He might also arrest me.”
“True,” her aunt allowed, studying him. “Shall I inquire?”
Alexander nodded decisively. “Yes, please do.”
The women invited Mr. Gillan and Alexander for dinner the next night. They all helped prepare the meal, as Aunt Susan and Mrs. Tobin had no official cook—only the assistance of a young maid-of-all-work, who was not clever in the kitchen.
Their menu consisted of a rich conger soup, fish with a savory sauce, potatoes, and bourdelots aux pommes—apples baked in pastry.
At the appointed hour, Mr. Gillan arrived bearing a pot of boiled ormers, while Alexander brought flowers for their hostesses.
When they had all taken their places, Aunt Susan rose somewhat shyly and said, “I believe some sort of toast is in order. I feel rather like the woman in Scripture who lost one precious coin, and when she found it again, called her friends and neighbors together, saying, ‘Rejoice with me, for I have found the treasure I had lost.’” She raised her glass to her niece, tears sparkling in her eyes. “To Laura.”
“To Laura,” the others echoed, glasses high.
Laura’s heart squeezed with poignant pleasure.
“Now, let us eat, and be merry,” Susan added.
“Hear, hear,” Mr. Gillan agreed, beaming at her.
Her aunt sat back down, clearly feeling self-conscious but pleased too.
The meal began, and after several minutes of general conversation, Laura decided Mr. Gillan was a pleasant man. He had thick, bristly dark hair streaked with silver, and bushy side-whiskers, weathered skin, and jolly blue eyes. He was not tall, only an inch or so above Aunt Susan’s height, but he seemed larger, with his broad shoulders, stout stature, and vibrant personality.
He was a bit loud and coarse, but only from lack of breeding, Laura thought, not from any smallness or meanness of character. On the contrary, he seemed kind and noble hearted. His table manners were not all they might be, but considering he usually ate alone or in the company of rough sailors, she did not hold it against him.
And most telling of all, he was clearly besotted with Susan Hilgrove, which spoke well of his character and discernment.
His gaze lingered on her many times during the meal, and he was quick to offer her seconds and to refill her glass.
“You are too thin, my dear lady. A strong wind would blow you right off the deck.” And “Here, have some more ormers. Gathered these from the rocks myself. Delicious.”
Mrs. Tobin spoke up. “Enjoy ormering, do you?”
“Indeed I do. Enjoy eating them even more.” He patted his straining waistcoat buttons. “And I cooked these long and slow for you.”
“In fish stock?”
“What else?”
Susan politely ate another of the boiled snail-like creatures. Laura could only be glad the man was not besotted with her.
As if guessing her thoughts, Alexander turned to her, a teasing light in his eyes. “Another for you as well, Miss Callaway?”
“No, thank you. I could not eat another bite.”
Laura had come to enjoy many Jersey specialties—bean crock, sweet cakes, lobster, crab, and more—but was still not fond of mollusks.
As they ate, the men talked companionably of their seafaring experiences, and it pleased Laura to see them getting along so well.
After dessert, Aunt Susan rose again. “Shall we leave you two to cigars and port?”
Standing abruptly, Mr. Gillan said, “Not on my account, I beg you. Please stay, ladies. That is, if that meets with your approval, Captain.”
“Indeed it does,” Alexander agreed.
So together they lingered over tea, coffee, and genial conversation for another hour. Mr. Gillan insisted