Once they’d walked along the breakwater to the small town of Gibraltar, she began to understand why Ariadne had affected the dramatic dark red cape edged with black velvet she’d been wearing on the deck of the Arethusa ever since they’d left Portsmouth. Everywhere Willa looked, local women walking in groups or stopping to talk were wearing the ubiquitous scarlet cape, with hoods that served to hide their faces.
Ariadne most certainly would have blended in and disappeared the night before when she’d left on a shore boat headed to the harbor town with her partner, Monsieur Duvall. Willa shuddered to think what they were up to now, or who the she-devil spy would terrorize next.
Willa had no trouble keeping up with the marine sergeant’s long strides. She was happy to find provisions as soon as possible and get back to the Arethusa. She couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that Ariadne might be lurking around any corner. But that was ridiculous. She and her partner had probably contacted the captain of a private ship, or maybe another Royal Navy ship to take them on to Naples. But who knew if that story she’d told had been true?
“Mrs. MacCloud…” The small voice startled her. She’d almost forgotten young Charles was still with them. She turned in his direction. “Yes?”
“How much farther to the lemons?” He was skipping in an attempt to keep up with the rest of the party.
“Soon, Charles,” she said. “You’ll see a line of donkeys the farmers use to cart their wares to market and deliver to ships down at the mole.”
“Donkeys?”
“Yes, they wait patiently all day, their ears flicking at flies.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she stole a furtive look at Sergeant Claridge. Willa MacCloud would have no way of knowing that much detail about the fruit and vegetable vendors’ pack animals.
“Do you think I could pet them?”
“You should ask, but I don’t think anyone would complain.”
The marine lieutenant snapped a warning at the boy. “Show a little decorum there. You’re not on an outing, you’re on the King’s business.”
He quieted and lowered his head, but as soon as the marine turned away, Charles gave Willa a sideways wink, and mischief danced in his eyes.
The marine suddenly leaned close to Willa’s ear and whispered. “That ninny-hammer has a lot to learn. I hope he survives his wool-gathering on deck without any more accidents like the one you saved him from.”
When a hot flush flooded her face, the lieutenant continued in a low voice. “Yes, I was there.” The knowing look on his face made her stomach drop like a bird shot out of the sky, fluttering and turning over and over. He’d seen her race up the mizzen, skirts flying.
Once they entered the plaza, she spied another clutch of women in red capes but forced herself not to stare to see if Ariadne was one of them. With any luck, the bitch was already gone from Gibraltar.
She’d no more than convinced herself to cease worrying every time she saw a woman in a red cape, than a large group of swarthy men stormed quickly through the square, heading north. A shiver of a premonition snaked up her spine, and she quickened her steps toward the vendors’ stalls. She motioned to one of the men to load as many limes and lemons as he had for sale into their baskets for ferrying back to the mole.
She and the cook’s mate made a quick perusal of the remaining stalls, and she chose a few items for herself and Cullen: Some bunches of greens and bright yellow and red peppers. As a self-indulgent afterthought, she also chose two plump oranges to save as a surprise for Christmas when, God-willing, they’d be on station at St. Helena.
The unsettling appearance of the large group of men sweeping through the plaza apparently had affected Sergeant Claridge as well as Willa.
“Right. Young Charles, let’s pack these baskets of fruit onto the carriers on yon beasts. And no dawdling.”
The marine officer and the ship’s boy made quick work of the bundles, and within minutes they were setting a brisk pace back to the mole along with the balky, heavily laden creatures and their handler.
Evidence of the British Army was everywhere on Gibraltar, as well as sailors and marines from the Royal Navy ships in the bay. All the same, she knew there had been civil uprisings in Spain, and that country loomed close at the edge of Gibraltar’s official border. She’d be glad to be back aboard the Arethusa.
The marine guard who had remained aboard the shore boat with the coxswain noticed their fast return and met them a bit up the walkway along the mole. He and Sergeant Claridge exchanged looks and commenced a fast unpacking and stowing of their purchases.
Willa, young Charles, and the cook’s mate clambered back aboard the shore boat. She could not explain her unsettled feelings, but she was ready for a dull, uneventful afternoon in the surgery helping Cullen. Captain Still was waiting for her when she climbed the rope ladder up to the main deck, and the grim set of his mouth did not bode well.
“Isn’t Dr. MacCloud with you?”
His sharp demand without any explanation stopped her mid-inhale. “He was here when I left. He was going to spend this afternoon in sick bay with our patients.”
“He left the ship about two hours ago, saying he had to meet someone in Gibraltar before it was too late. I assured him you were perfectly safe with Sergeant Claridge, but he insisted on being taken ashore anyway. He wouldn’t give any further explanation.”
“And you let him go? Knowing I was perfectly fine with Sergeant Claridge?” Willa tried to keep the panic out of
