The familiar sight of Dover and the English countryside was growing closer by the minute. Aboard the Day Dream, men hurried from place to place, preparing for the imminent landing. A solitary man stood still, gazing intently at the horizon, but his mind was focused on something quite different.
“Why so melancholy?” one of the men asked, pausing in his activity to stand beside him. “You’ve barely spoken since we left Paris. And you haven’t been down to see our guests either.”
The man sighed and turned to his friend. “I’m not sure, Andrew. There’s just something about this one that makes me uneasy. I thought it best they not get too close to me. Have they seen you?”
“No,” Andrew responded, his previous destination forgotten. “Only Hal and Leggett have been down. But what danger could there be? It is only the Vicomte and his family, the two Perrault children, and the girl.”
“Yes, the girl,” the first man mused, turning back to the sea. “What do we know of her?”
“Only that she was arrested by Chauvelin and sentenced by the tribunal. No family, from what we’ve been able to gather. She doesn’t talk much.” The two men were silent for a moment. “You don’t trust her?”
“I’m not sure,” he said again. “There’s something in her manner that puts my guard up.”
“What are we going to do with her? She has no place to go.”
“I know,” he acknowledged. “I think perhaps I will take her to Richmond, at least for a while. That way I can keep an eye on her. I’m almost positive it will come to nothing, but better safe than sorry, wot?”
“Indeed,” Andrew agreed, and at that moment they dropped anchor. “Welcome home, Percy.”