Wesley agreed. That decision, because Captain Vail couldn’t wait to be with the woman he loved, had led to his death.
“It’s heartbreaking,” Miranda continued. “Had he waited until it was safe, I wonder what kind of future they would have had.”
Wesley wondered as well. While nothing would have changed for Miranda, Wesley might not have ever come into existence, or Captain Vail would have been his grandfather, making Miranda a relative. It’s strange how the decision of one person could change the fate of so many.
Chapter 10
Sadness, a near mourning, engulfed Miranda. Though she’d not lost anyone, Uncle Jonathan had, as had Hester. Further, they’d both lost out on what promised to be a great love.
What would it be like to love so strongly? To risk all to be with the person who held your heart? To be loved by someone that they’d literally sail into a storm just to be with you?
Her heart ached, not only for Uncle Jonathan and Her Grace, but for herself as well. Would she ever experience such a love?
She slid a glance to Epworth. Oh, she had hoped…With a shake of her head, she dismissed the impossible. “I’m glad to know their story, sad though it is.”
Epworth nodded. “While that was very enlightening, he didn’t answer our question.”
For a moment, Miranda had forgotten the reason they’d come up here. With a sigh, she glanced around. “I’ve been through every drawer in the desk previously. There were no treaties. I would have remembered.”
“Perhaps they no longer exist,” he suggested.
Miranda couldn’t imagine that her uncle would have destroyed such vital documents, one he referenced in his journal.
“What is taking the two of you so long?”
Miranda startled at the voice of Her Grace. She quickly stood and straightened her gown but not before the duchess had witnessed her sitting in such a manner on the settee, with her back turned so that she was facing Epworth, knees drawn up so that her feet could rest on the cushioned seat. She remained modestly covered, but it wasn’t proper to have sat as she had.
“We’d hope to find the answer in here.” Wesley held up the journal. “Instead, I only learned about you.” He grinned at her.
“What is that?”
“Captain Vail’s journal. He was quite in love with you.”
If Miranda wasn’t mistaken, the duchess just blushed.
“Yes, well that isn’t any of your business.” She marched forward and yanked it from his hands. She then wandered to the desk and ran the tips of her fingers across the scarred surface before strolling to the windows to gaze out before making her way toward the chamber but stopped short of going in and then turned. “I have such fond memories of this attic.”
Her Grace had snuck up here several times to be with Uncle Jonathan because they feared being caught if he went to her set of rooms. Miranda admired the boldness of Her Grace but wasn’t certain she’d have had the nerve to risk ruin.
“As you spent many hours within these rooms, perhaps you might know where the documents may have been stored,” Epworth suggested.
Her Grace frowned, then seemed to study the bookshelves. “I do know that some of those books aren’t in actuality books but contained compartments for other items or documents.”
There were well over a hundred books on those shelves. “Then I guess we’d better get to it.”
“Yes, you should,” Her Grace agreed, her tune more ducal than previously. “We’ve not much time. Guests have begun to arrive.”
Without further word, the duchess turned on her heel and exited, taking the personal journal of Uncle Jonathan with her.
Wesley glanced at the floor to ceiling shelves that took up the entire wall. How many were not real books and how many would they need to search before they found what they were looking for?
“I guess we should get to it.” Miranda grinned.
“But where to start?” Wesley wondered.
“I’ll take this end, you the other, until we meet in the middle, or find the documents.”
He was beginning to wonder why the documents were so important. It wasn’t as if they mattered. The treaty that had been broken was the most important one, and that situation was the one that needed to be rectified, even if it meant signing a new agreement.
Except, Bocka Morrow was unlikely to agree to anything. Especially if Mr. Woodford had his way.
The last thing either community needed was a competition to bring in more items from France. How soon before a Laswell ship was sunk.