Admiral Jermyn handed the missive back to Gray, his blue eyes hard. Although he had twenty or thirty years on Gray, the only sign of aging was a bit of white at his temples and the crow’s feet around his eyes. “That is Lord Strickland’s seal. The order is legitimate.”

In the admiral’s cramped dining room aboard the Royal Justice, Miss Vale preened next to Gray. The limited space meant she stood close enough to him that her shoulder brushed his arm every time she shifted. She had changed from her blue dress into a neatly pressed beige one and dressed her hair. They were presenting themselves to a navy admiral, not attending a ball. As before, her mother stood back, silently observing and seeming to fade into the woodwork.

Until this moment, Gray would have considered the meeting to have gone well. He’d secured the French barque for his second-in-command, reported the location of the friendly ship in need of a mast repair, and secured the admiral’s assurance that help would be sent. He’d expected to be sent back to his regular patrol.

Instead, he had to contend with a gloating woman next to him. She rearranged the curl next to her cheek and smiled. “Will Captain Graylocke be escorting me to France, or will you, sir?” She was brazen. Even Gray wouldn’t talk to an admiral that way.

Admiral Jermyn didn’t seem pleased. “Graylocke will do it. I’ll see our new prisoners safely to land.”

Hell and damnation. Gray tensed. “Permission to speak freely, sir?”

Miss Vale glared at him, as if she dared Gray to deny her request.

The admiral’s expression hardened, but he nodded. “Permission granted.” He sounded cautious.

Gray hesitated, choosing his words carefully. He ignored the glare leveled in his direction by the spirited young woman. Why was her wedding so important? Even if she was intimately connected to his family, he didn’t see it as his duty to escort her. It was his duty to ensure that the French didn’t invade England.

“Sir, it would be folly to take the King’s Grace so close to France. We’re a large ship and easily recognizable. It could exacerbate tensions between us and start a battle we’re stretched too thin to accommodate.” He bit his tongue before he succumbed to the desire to tell the admiral what to do next. As much as he would love to request that Miss and Mrs. Vale be transferred to a messenger ship or even a civilian vessel headed for France, his training prevented it. He was speaking with a superior officer. He toed the line simply by expressing his opinion in such a matter-of-fact manner.

The admiral nodded. “Very well, then. Take the barque.”

“I beg your pardon?” Gray’s voice was weak. That was not his ship. He glanced to his left, where Stills stood with his back as straight as a pole. Gray couldn’t tell a single one of the soon-to-be captain’s thoughts from his impassive expression. He looked like a statue, as if he hadn’t even heard.

Yet, it would be Stills’s ship Gray would be taking command of, and he wondered what would come of the King’s Grace.

Admiral Jermyn barked, “You heard me, Captain. You need to get to France unnoticed, and here we have a French ship newly fallen in our laps. A stroke of providence.”

Once again, Gray glanced toward his former second-in-command but found nothing approaching an ally in his expression. In fact, he stared straight ahead, over the admiral’s left shoulder. Gray said, “What of the King’s Grace, sir? I’m her captain. I can’t fathom leaving her behind.”

“The King’s Grace will be returned to patrol. I need her as she was.”

That was precisely why Gray didn’t want to have to do this inane errand. Even if the Crown’s Commander of Spies had given this mission his seal of approval, Gray didn’t believe for a second that the spy network had a stake in Miss Vale’s marriage. More likely, his mother or brother had spoken with the spymaster directly to ensure a personal favor. If she was a few days later than expected in reaching the continent, no harm would befall her.

Gray squared his shoulders and asked, “Under whose command, sir? Are you stripping me of command?”

“Far from it, Captain. Your ship and crew will await your return. I’ll have my second-in-command, Wilson, transfer to the King’s Grace temporarily, to oversee the crew. In fact, he’ll ferry the French prisoners to Brighton. Can’t have you taking them along, or you’d risk a mutiny.”

Gray glanced at Stills again. This time, the man seemed a bit agitated. It didn’t show on his face, but the way he held himself was stiffer than usual.

Even though it might earn him a reprimand, Gray protested one last time. “What of Stills, sir? You’ve given him command of the barque.”

“And he’ll have it, after you see Mrs. Vale and her daughter safely to their destination. You’re the senior officer here, Captain. You have command.” Admiral Jermyn locked gazes with Gray. “See that it’s done quickly. I don’t want to have Lord Strickland breathing down my neck for unnecessary delays. Dismissed.”

The admiral’s voice was as clear a dismissal as his words. He would brook no further argument on the subject. Gray bowed, followed by Stills. Even Miss Vale curtsied, proving that she had some semblance of gentle manners hidden away. Gray held the door for the women to precede him to the deck.

The moment he shut the door behind him, he faced Stills. He clapped the other man on the shoulder. “Forgive me. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

Stills smiled. “Think nothing of it, sir. It’ll be as though nothing has changed.”

His manner didn’t seem sour or resentful, but Gray didn’t see how he couldn’t be. The man had just had a command dangled in front of him and then taken away again in the blink of an eye. And that wasn’t to mention the fact that Gray had the challenge of commanding an unfamiliar ship that would be understaffed, with only a handful of the crew he was accustomed to commanding. The other men would be comprised of crew from the admiral’s vessels.

Having said his piece, Gray steered himself toward the King’s Grace to collect his trunk. He would need it on the other vessel, along with his navigation tools. The moment he stepped foot on his ship, he found himself cornered by the brazen Miss Vale.

She radiated smugness as she tipped her face up to his. “If you’d only trusted me, we wouldn’t have had to waste so much of your time. I wouldn’t lead you astray, Anthony.”

Gray gritted his teeth and watched her walk away. He very much feared that she would lead him astray. For all her family connection to him, he didn’t trust her at all. The odd feeling deep in the pit of his stomach told him she was much more than a pretty, innocent face.