Hawkwood saw it then, as Quade’s jaw pulsed. There was something else gnawing away at the American, beyond the anger brought on by all the baiting. Reading Quade’s face, he realized what it was.

Harlan Quade’s ire hadn’t been sparked by the killing of two soldiers. It was the personal humiliation he’d suffered as a consequence of having recognized the face on the wanted posters as the man who’d identified himself as Captain Hooper. Once the posters were distributed, Quade knew that there was a very real possibility that someone who had seen them drinking together in the Eagle Tavern would come forward. He’d had no choice but to go before his commanding officer and confess, for the consequences if it was left to someone else to reveal the association would be far worse.

That must have been an interesting conversation, Hawkwood mused. Who wouldn’t have wanted to be a fly on the wall when Quade had unburdened his soul? And once the word was out, the major’s mortification would have been complete.

All things considered, it was a miracle the man had held on to his commission. Had a similar lapse of judgement happened to a British officer, he’d have been reduced in rank – unless he had influential friends, of course. From his previous conversation with Quade, Hawkwood guessed the major didn’t have too many of those, an indication that his propensity for castigating senior officers for their failings had won him few allies. The fact he was still a major was probably due to the paucity of regulars with combat experience. In other words, the Americans needed every available officer they could lay their hands on, regardless of whatever serious infraction he might have committed.

In Quade’s eyes, Hawkwood was now the enemy incarnate. Thanks to their brief liaison, the major’s credibility had suffered a mauling from which he was unlikely to recover any time soon. As a result, he was determined to see to it that Hawkwood paid the ultimate price, even if it meant elbowing the hangman aside and tying the noose himself. Quade’s war had become a personal vendetta.

Hawkwood wondered when Winans had been made aware that the two men he’d plucked from the dinghy were not who they purported to be. It had to have been after he and Lawrence had left the cabin and accompanied Renner to the fire room. Presumably, that’s when Quade had come crawling out of the woodwork, clutching his wanted poster. But what had alerted Quade to their presence?

From what Hawkwood could remember of their arrival on the boat, the only witnesses had been the half-dozen crew members who’d been on watch. And therein lay the possible answer.