Raw fear rolled through me. I brought the kerchief down to my lap, curling my trembling fingers around it under the table.

“You may be comforted to know that your father left you a most robust inheritance,” the captain continued, having no idea of my terror. Hackett could expose me at any moment. “You shall never go in want, of that you may be sure. I do have some good news of a more sentimental nature. Izra, the box.” Izra brought over a small wood trunk that shook the table as he set it down. The captain unlocked it with a key from his coat. “You lost a great deal in the Paladin, but your mother’s jewels are safe. I was charged with their safekeeping on the Ambrosia. They are all right here, my dear.”

He opened the lid and turned the trunk toward me. Necklaces, broaches, and bracelets were piled inside, tangled like glittering seaweed. There were smaller velvet boxes as well, surely containing the finest jewels. Mercy and I would’ve turned cartwheels round the entire island had we ever found such a box wrecking. Now I could scarce give it my attention.

“I shall keep this until we make landfall,” Captain Jansen said as he locked the trunk again. “My men are honorable, but better not to tempt them. Now to the matter of your guardianship. You are to be placed under the protection of Dr. Henry Holdridge of New York. Have you any familiarity with the doctor, Miss Coates? He is described in the will as a longtime friend of your father’s.”

I nodded. My blood roared in my ears and the skin over my knuckles felt ready to split. What a fool I’d been, walking into a life I had no idea about. Why had I ever thought this could work?

“I am glad for that,” said the captain, “but I must confess, the idea of delivering you to New York in such a troubling time concerns me. York Island is in the hands of the Continental Army, and the situation for those loyal to the Crown has been dangerous for some time. Non-associators, the Americans call us. The hypocrisy astonishes. But I am certain His Majesty will restore order soon.”

“I wouldn’t depend on it, Captain,” said Mr. Lane. “Our forces are strong in New York.”

“Forces?” Hackett snorted. “They’re farmers with pitchforks.”

Lane turned to him. “They are men fighting for their liberty.”

“What do you know about fighting, sea dandy?”

Captain Jansen thumped his palm on the table. “Enough. Not another word, either of you.”

Silence fell, but the air remained thick with their anger. I held as still as I could. I’d been forgotten for now. I did not want to be remembered.

The captain popped his pipe back in his mouth and puffed at it anxiously. “Forgive us, Miss Coates. Mr. Lane hails from excellent Tory stock, but he is confused in his allegiance.”

Lane regarded him for a moment. “You’re correct, sir. My father is a most devoted Loyalist who toasts King George’s health every night at dinner. His political stance is but one reason we’re estranged. I am not confused in my allegiance. I know exactly where I stand, and it is with liberty. With American independence. Not with a tyrant an ocean away who oppresses innocents with fire and sword.”