“Thank you.”

“That was a close one,” Hyland said in a gleeful tone.

Griffith paused in his stride just long enough to shoot a glowering look at his sailing master. Or former sailing master, unfortunately.

“You assaulted an officer.”

Clark smothered a laugh into his hand.

“He said I’d interfered with property. But how could I, I said, when I didn’t have any property to interfere with?” Hyland’s tone was outraged.

“So you punched him in the nose?” Griffith replied.

“You would have done the same,” Hyland retorted.

“As a matter of fact, I would not. I got arrested and spent a night in jail.”

“You’re getting soft, Captain.” Hyland punctuated his words by nudging Griffith in the shoulder. Or actually the middle of the arm, since Hyland wasn’t nearly as tall as Griffith.

“I am not!” he replied. Was he?

“He’s living the nob’s life, being a duke’s heir now,” Clark explained. “He can’t go around punching people just because he wants to.”

Griffith felt a twinge of discomfort. As though he’d like to go find some deserving person to punch in the nose just to prove Clark wrong. A cheating shopkeeper or a cruel master or an oblivious ship captain.

“What does a nob do?” Hyland asked. “Besides not punching people.”

“I get to sleep in a real bed, wear clothing that isn’t drenched in seawater, and sometimes get to attend parties where most of the people have all their own teeth.”

“It’s pretty dull, from what I can see,” Clark said in an aside.

Griffith resisted the urge to punch him.

“But why are you doing it, then?” Hyland asked. He gestured in the direction of the sea, even though they were a few miles from the docks. “When you are the captain of your own ship with the best crew in England?”

“It’s not that simple,” Griffith said. His tone was sincere, making both Hyland and Clark drop their grins and look intently at him.

“So what is it, Captain?” Hyland asked.

“I owe it to my cousin Frederick, if not my family.” Griffith’s mouth tightened. “We sail for queen and country, do we not?”

The men nodded.

“And if things are tumultuous at home, there is no queen. No country.”

Clark frowned in thought. “But why does it all rest on your shoulders?”

“Not all mine. Ours.” Griffith shook his head. “I have never wished to be a part of it, but the truth of the matter is that I am a member of the aristocracy, and part of a quite ancient title to boot. If not me, and people like me, then the system crumbles.”

“And what if it does?” Hyland always wanted to challenge authority, which was one of the reasons Griffith liked him so much—if he saw a ridiculous custom being maintained simply because it was the way things always were, he would challenge it.