My Lord and Spymaster

Twenty-seven

“TRY TO KEEP THE STACKS IN ORDER. THEY’RE sorted and I know where everything is. Nine-tenths of my problem tomorrow’s going to be finding things.”

“MacLeish brought boxes. Over there.” Pitney didn’t look happy. She could see he was worried right to his guts about Papa. It hunched his shoulders and put another twenty years on his face.

“Everything on my desk. The rest of the ledgers, too.”

By this time tomorrow she’d know what ships carried treason across the Channel. Papa would be home and safe the day after. She had to believe that. “Put the files in the wagon tonight and set a guard sitting on top. It goes to the Admiralty about three tomorrow afternoon. They’ll have a room clear for us.”

The Whitby warehouse was deserted. Nobody left but her and Pitney and three guards patrolling downstairs. Empty.

“This is damned dangerous. Jess, you should talk to Josiah.”

“No point in it. I already know what he’d say. I don’t want to have to go against his orders.” Kedger’s cage was empty. She checked the food bowl and water dish. Both full. There was a pile of notes she’d left on top of the cage. She picked them up, tapping them neat. “Everything in my desk drawers, too. There’s notes I may need. Ships sighted. Ships not sighted where they should be. There could be one line in there that makes the difference.”

“Jess, they can hang you with any page in those books. You trust them too much.”

“Could be. It’s too late to stop, though.”

“It’s not too late to leave England.” Pitney looked sick. He was brave as a tiger when it came to facing the Revenue cutters. Papa getting arrested shook the order of his universe. He’d be all right when Papa was cleared.

She took one last look round at all her charts and lists. All her letters and reports. All her planning. “I’m going to know Cinq’s name tomorrow. I can do this. I can really do this. You would not believe how much paper they’ve pulled together for me to sieve.”

“Think about what you’re doing.” Pitney took the papers from her like he was getting an order for his own execution. “There has to be another way.”

That was the problem with life. Sometimes there wasn’t.