“What do you mean you cannot find her?” Will ground out.

He stood red faced, hands on his hips as he faced the ship's captain. It was taking every ounce of his self-restraint to keep his temper under control. The captain's visage in turn was a slightly whiter shade of pale grey. The young lady passenger had gone missing from the ship sometime during the night and the captain had no explanation.

“I sent the cabin boy to double check your cabin,” the captain replied.

“After I had already checked it twice. I can assure you that my fiancée is not hiding under the bed clothes,” replied Will.

It was a ludicrous statement, but in the cramped space of the cabin, it was the only place that Hattie could have been.

He raked his fingers through his hair in frustration. Where was she?

Memories of the previous night crashed through his mind. He had foolishly accepted the bottle of wine, never once thinking that Hattie would seek to drug him to sleep. The morning had brought with it the bitter aftertaste of laudanum in his mouth.

His anger at this point was not just directed at Hattie, but at himself. He had been well and truly played.

He had to give Hattie her dues. She had learned from their experience with the market crowd in Gibraltar. She knew the mind of the mob and had read the situation perfectly. The damsel in distress ruse had brought the crew very quickly on to her side.

And what had he, great spy and undercover operative done? Reasoned with her, called on the crew for manly support, no he had gone and lost his temper. He had shown himself to be the rogue she had claimed.

While he slept, Hattie had found a way to escape from the ship. When he finally woke long after the ship had docked, he knew she was gone. But how?

Will turned on his heel and headed back to the cabin. The ship was being offloaded and his travel trunk needed to be closed and secured. He would send it on to his parent’s house while he remained at the dockside and tried to get to the bottom of Hattie’s disappearance.

Inside the travel trunk, he finally got his first clue. As he went to close the lid, he caught sight of a small piece of folded paper wedged in one of the interior pockets. He pulled it out and read the short message written upon it.

Will,

You and I live in different worlds. Please know that I never wanted to lie to you and I will be forever in your debt. I love you with all my heart, our time together has been a dream come true, but you must let me go.

I love you

Hattie

A wave of anguish washed over him, leaving him to founder on a bitter shore. His instincts had yet again failed him when it came to Hattie.

What was it with this girl? He could not read her. Sometime during the night, Hattie had escaped the ship.

Worry creased his brow. If she had attempted to swim ashore with her possessions it would be a miracle if she was still alive. There were so many ships and boats moving up and down the river at any one time, she could have easily been towed under one of them.

He had brought her all this way, only to lose her within sight of home.

“Oh Hattie,” he murmured.

The captain meanwhile made enquiries of the crew. The last person who had seen her was the cabin boy when he delivered the bottle of wine. No one else could shed light on what had become of her.

Will packed up the remainder of his things. As soon as he left the ship he would contact the Thames River police and ask them to search the waters.

If Hattie had come to grief while trying to escape the ship, he could only pray that her death had been swift.

* * *

As Will followed the crew carrying his luggage ashore he pondered what he was to do. They took his luggage to the nearby shipping office with instructions to send it on to his parent's house in Dover Street.

By rights he should have been accompanying his travel trunk, but he was in no mood for happy reunions.

Turning up the collar of his spare wool coat to keep out the early morning chill he headed down Pennington Street to the office of the Thames River Police.

The search took most of the day and it was late in the afternoon before Will finally gave up hope of finding a clue as to Hattie’s fate. Hour after hour he had sat in the bow of a small police boat his gaze fixed on the dark brown waters of the Thames.

As the afternoon light began to fade, the police called a halt to the search and headed back in to shore.

“Once the tide has come in and then out again, the chances of finding a body are very dim indeed sir,” said the accompanying constable.

It did not take the constable long to complete the regulation paperwork. A young woman had disappeared over the side of a ship while it was moored downstream in the river. The constable handed Will the report and Will wrote his name and parents' address at the bottom.

“If we find any pieces of her, we shall send word,” said the constable.

He took the paper and placed it on the top of a dusty pile of similar looking documents. Will thanked him for the police time and effort, but not for his lack of tact.

Stepping back out into the street he stopped and looked at the long line of ships berthed at the dock. Under one of them, Hattie had more than likely met her fate.

Anguish swirled in his mind. Had he driven a desperate young woman to her death?

Groups of sailors passed him by, all headed for a nearby tavern. He was in dire need of a stiff drink. He fell in behind the sailors and followed them into the tavern.

Smoke and the raucous laughter from the crowded tavern immediately assaulted his senses. The tavern was not that big an establishment but it was packed to the gunwales with sailors, all in varying states of intoxication.

He finally managed to work his way to the bar and bought a tankard of ale. Following occupational habit, he found a corner in which to sit and quietly sip his beer.

The tavern wenches who came to offer him their company were given a coin and told to go and find friends elsewhere. He was about to tell the fourth girl in a row that he was not interested in her services when he noticed her gown.

In Gibraltar he had found Hattie suitable clothing to replace the clothes she had left behind on board the Blade of Orion. One dress he had taken a fancy to was green with a white lace trim. The very same dress it would appear that the young lady of nocturnal entertainment was wearing.

He pressed his boots hard into the wooden floor, working to bring his temper under control.

He pointed to the spot next to him and beckoned for her to sit down.

“That is a lovely dress young lady,” he said.

She chuckled and showed a set of dark brown, misshapen teeth.

“Ain't it? My fella gave it to me when he got home from sea this morning. I am the luckiest girl in all the London Docks,” she replied.

“That you are. May I ask which ship your chap sailed in on? I am a fancier of ships and would love to sail the oceans someday,” he replied.

The charm offensive worked and soon Will was listening to the tale of a poor lass whose fiancé was evil and had threatened to cut off all her hair as soon as they reached land.

“And he said he would never let her see her parents again. Wot sort of fella does that to the girl he is going to marry I ask you?”

The undisguised disgust on her face had the blood boiling in Will's veins. Hattie must have spun the crew a long and lurid tale while he was sitting cooling his heels in the captain’s cabin.

“And so, what happened to her?” Will asked, sliding another coin across the table.

The girl scooped it up and slipped it into her ample cleavage. Then raising her head, she met his gaze.

Will sensed she was wondering why a gentleman such as him would be interested in the story, let alone give an extra coin to hear more. Uneducated more than likely, but the eyes that studied him had the presence of intelligence.

“I happen to enjoy a good story, especially when it is told to me by such a pretty lass,” he replied.

He pushed his half-finished tankard of ale across the table toward her.

To his relief she picked it up and took an eye wateringly large gulp. She burped and sniggered before wiping her mouth with the sleeve of her new dress.

“Well then, she convinced some of the lads of the crew, my man included, to row her ashore before the ship docked here. She traded all the stuff her horrible fiancé had bought her. I think everyone in the crew ended up with something. Even Eddie the cabin boy got a nice new hairbrush for his ma. While her fiancé was asleep, the crew lowered her over the side and helped her to escape.”

Will took himself by surprise. His temper had returned to a near civilized state and remained there. A different set of emotions now rose to the surface and took hold. An odd mixture of relief and lust.

Lust for the chase.

Hattie had outwitted and outplayed him at every turn. Every time he thought he had gotten the measure of her, she had shown him a clean pair of heels.

She had made a fool of him. He was now hell bent on finding her. What he would do to her when he did eventually catch up with Hattie, he was not entirely certain. His body hardened, sure in the knowledge that it knew exactly what it wanted to do. Hattie was one drug he knew he would never be able to get fully out of his system.

The tavern wench sat staring at Will, a deep frown line on her brow.

“You're not going to hurt her, are you?” she asked.

Will had read at least one female right. The girl seated next to him had figured out his role in the story.

“No, I am not. I never did and never will. Believe me when I tell you every single one of us has been duped by a very clever liar.”

He rose from his seat. He had what he needed. To linger any longer invited trouble from any Canis Major crew members who may still be in the tavern.

“You do look lovely in that dress,” he said.

The girl downed the last of Will’s beer and got to her feet. She stood for a moment smoothing her skirts. The dress fitted her like it had been made by a dressmaker with exactly the girl's measurements in mind. She turned and began to walk away, then stopped and turned back to Will.

“I wouldn't come here again if I were you sir. I have a gift for remembering faces and my man will know you came here looking for her.”

Will nodded. He hoped his days of crawling through the underbelly of society were over.

Once outside the tavern he hailed a hack. As he climbed aboard, his parents address was almost upon his lips, but then he stopped.

How could he face his family and the expected joyful home coming? His mother would be full of questions regarding his recent travels on the continent. The tavern girl's revelations regarding the fate of Hattie had his mind in turmoil.

The reunion must wait. His parents and siblings deserved a cheerful and loquacious Will Saunders. His current mood was anything but. His emotions and instinct were locked in a battle for his attention.

There were a few things of which he was certain. One was that if Hattie had thought she had successfully slipped through his fingers she was sadly mistaken.

He also knew he needed a plan; and a good plan demanded an ally.

The path to finding Hattie and unlocking her secrets would begin at the home of the two people who understood the life of a spy as well as he did. The Earl and Countess of Shale.

“Duke Street,” he instructed the driver.