“Spelling? What difference does that make?”

Chase held the ragged letter up to the light, a look of distaste on his face. “It is horridly stained, too. No doubt by cheap gin of some sort.” He held the letter out to Gower, who almost snatched it from his hand. “I would not believe a word I received from this man, whoever he is.”

Silverstone and Picknard appeared uneasy.

“Captain,” Harriet said, “please do not take offense. I’m certain Mr. Gower did not mean to imply anything unsavory about you.”

Silverstone held out his hand. “Gower, let me see that missive.”

Face red, Gower handed the letter to the banker.

Silverstone peered down his nose at it, squinting in the dim light thrown off from the three lamps that illuminated the room. After a moment, he sent a steely glare at Gower from beneath his bushy brows. “Did you meet the man who sent this?”

Gower mutely shook his head.

“A sad business, this. I’m afraid I have to agree with the captain.” Silverstone handed the missive back to Gower. “I hope you have some other proof that the captain is not who he says he is.”

Gower’s face turned so red that for a moment, Harriet thought he might explode into a boiling mass of invectives. Instead, he stuffed the missive into his pocket and held the other one out to Mr. Silverstone. “Of course I have more proof. I think even you will believe this one.”

Silverstone took the letter and read it, his lips moving slightly. Harriet’s heart sank when she noticed how the man’s brow lowered with each word.

After a moment, Silverstone looked at Chase, a considering expression in his eyes. “This letter is from Admiral Hawkins-Smythe. He states that he is familiar with every captain in the naval service and that he has never heard of you.”

Picknard snorted. “Well, there you are! The admiral lives not ten miles from here and is very well known. He served almost forty years in His Majesty’s service and knows every ship that England has ever put to sea.”

Harriet rubbed her brow. What a mule. She knew the admiral well and she was certain he could discredit Chase.

Undeterred, Chase shrugged. “The admiral has never heard of me, and I have never heard of the admiral.”

“What?” Silverstone asked.

“I captain a merchant ship, owned by a private company. The only way your admiral would know me is if he had, at some time, boarded my vessel to search for contraband or some such nonsense. Which has never happened to a ship under my command.”

Silence fell on the small group. Finally, Silverstone sighed. “He’s right.” The banker sent a hard look at Gower. “I think we’ve taken enough time away from these good people.”

“Yes, but what about—”

“Do you have any more evidence?” Silverstone asked, his lip curled with distaste as he waved the letter in the air. “Something more than this.”

Gower’s mouth whitened. He struggled as if to say something, but no words would come out.