It wasn’t in the most fashionable area of town, of course, but it was convenient to the shops and wherever else the ladies chose to walk. Their neighbors were friendly, but busy, and none of them had raised an eyebrow at seeing the variety of occupants.

That was definitely a refreshing change from what she and Sarah would have expected if they lived in a more fashionable area. Della because of her reputation, and Sarah because of the color of her skin.

Della ran into the dining room, narrowly avoiding a few pairs of discarded shoes, carrying the morning paper. Sarah was seated at the long wooden table, a piece of toast on a plate beside her.

“What is it that has you in such a state?” her friend asked, raising a dark brow. “You bolted as soon as the paper arrived.”

Della went to the other side of the table where Sarah sat, laying the paper in front of her and pointing at the news item.

“That’s the name of your husband’s captain. It isn’t the same ship, of course”—that one capsized, with most of the crew still unaccounted for, not that she needed to remind Sarah of that—“but the captain is here. In town.” She didn’t tell Sarah just how impossibly large and handsome he was.

That was not pertinent to the story.

Della put her hand on Sarah’s shoulder and squeezed. “He’s never been so close, he certainly hasn’t answered all those letters we’ve sent. This is the best opportunity we might ever have to being able to find out for certain.” She took a breath. “In fact, I went and found this Griffin person, though I didn’t get a chance to ask him about Mr. Wattings’s whereabouts.”

“Griffith Davies, Viscount Stanbury,” Sarah corrected in a soft, faltering voice as she stared down at the paper.

“Viscount Whateverhisnameis,” Della said firmly. Captain Enormous. “The point is I saw him. And I’ll do whatever it takes to speak with him, to find out what happened to Henry.”

When she was able to talk her way past the Navy Police desk officer. And persuade the rakish captain to hold off on flirting so he could actually assist her.

Only a minor impediment.

“Della,” Sarah began, her voice even softer. She stared up at Della, her eyes wide. “I’d nearly given up hope. If you can find out what happened, that would be . . .” she continued, her gaze unfocused, and then she swayed in her chair and slumped to the side, avoiding falling completely out of her chair because of Della’s hand on her shoulder.

Of course Della should have anticipated that Sarah would be overwhelmed by the shock.

She took Sarah’s deadweight into her arms, gently sliding her onto the carpet. It had happened before, so it wasn’t a complete surprise, but Della felt her heart thudding in her chest. If anything were to happen to Sarah . . .