Lady in the Mist - Laurie Alice Eakes [45]
Those suspicions still teased his mind. The British Navy wasn’t in the habit of releasing men once they felt they had a good enough reason to keep them. Raleigh Trower’s mother being a Canadian, Raleigh being born in Canada—regardless of the citizenship of his father—was enough cause for the British Navy to hold a man until he died in battle, was maimed too badly to be of use aboard ship, or grew too old and feeble. Unless, of course, his ship had been paid off. Not likely with the war going far too strongly and the British not doing well since their defeat in Spain in January. Even the citizenship of Trower’s father could be made suspect by the British. The man had been born in America before their revolution.
The way Trower had backed down from their contretemps convinced Dominick that Trower had deserted.
Most Americans wouldn’t care. In fact, most would consider him a hero for defying the enemy, for depriving them of one more man. That didn’t concern Dominick. That Trower had gotten away from another British frigate last Tuesday morning made Dominick wonder, speculate, suspect.
He needed to get word to his uncle before the twenty-first of June. That was all there was to it. He needed to ask him if he could learn something about Trower. Doing so could take weeks, even months, so the sooner the better. If Dominick could get a message to one of the frigates or schooners cruising around the American coastline, they could contact his uncle.
The risk would be great. The captain might not believe his story of who he was and might take him aboard as an able-bodied seaman.
Feeling as though he were about to suffocate in the tight, airless confines of the gallery, Dominick ran a finger around the inside of his collar.
Letty grasped his arm as they rose for the final hymn. “You are the worst congregant in history. If you were a child, I’d send you to your room with bread and water after a thrashing in the stable yard.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time, m’dear,” Dominick responded.
The skin on his back crawled. At that moment, his room with bread and water sounded like as much as his belly could take in.
“This balcony is worse than the hold of a ship,” he added. “Let me out of here before I do something womanish and swoon.”
He spoke louder than he intended. Although the service had ended and the congregation began engaging in conversations, several of the females in his vicinity must have heard him, for they gave him indignant glances.
“Servants don’t have time to swoon.” Deborah stuck her pert nose in the air. “That’s for arrogant English aristocrats.”
“Weak ones, more like,” Dinah added.
“Who says I’m an aristocrat?” Dominick feigned annoyance. “It seems an unkind retort to my unintentional insult to you ladies.”
The girls giggled along with several other servants waiting for their betters to leave the church so they too could file out.
“Senator Lee says you talk like one,” Deborah said. “I heard him asking Mayor Kendall how you managed to get yourself stranded here.”
“And what did the mayor answer?” Dominick’s tone held as much ice as the chill crawling down his spine.
“He said you probably gambled away your inheritance or were running away from a female,” Deborah said.
Dominick laughed, relaxing. “Would that I’d enjoyed myself that much. And now we may depart from this oven. Letty, have you considered bringing your bread rolls up here to bake during the service?”
“Dominick Cherrett,” Letty scolded, “you are the most irreverent man who ever lived.”
“I’ve heard that before too. Now, may we leave? I can scarcely breathe.”
They filed out of the gallery and down the narrow staircase. Outside, again they had to wait to leave until their betters departed, while congregants milled about the yard, talking and laughing and greeting one