More happy mice applauded the last line. The plan was to deliver the jars to Boston, a city ideally placed to reach the publishing, culinary, and academic heart of America.

A knock on the front door interrupted their work. Gray froze, his glance darting around at the hundreds of jars.

“You expecting anybody?” Otis asked.

Gray shook his head, for it was past ten o’clock.

“I’ll dart upstairs and peek out the window to see who it is,” Otis said.

Gray reached for a sheet to drape over the stacks of labels and bowls of paste, but there was no way to cover the crates of bogus applesauce. Whoever was at the front door continued their incessant pounding, probably assuming the entire household was abed and needed awakening.

“It’s your sister,” Otis called in a harsh whisper from upstairs. “What do you want to do?”

Gray cursed under his breath. At all costs, he didn’t want Caroline within a square mile of this brazen caper, because, quite frankly, she would love it and want to dive in. He tugged the door to the kitchen closed, wishing it had a lock, for Caroline usually helped herself to a cup of tea whenever she visited.

“I’ve got it covered,” he called up to Otis. “Make yourself scarce until I can get rid of her.”

He knew it wouldn’t be easy the moment he opened the door. Caroline looked typically chic in a glamorous tailored suit, but her eyes were snapping mad.

“Why haven’t you sold the Pelican?” she demanded.

He plastered a mild expression on his face and stood in the doorway. “That’s all? No good evening or inquiry about my health? Just rude demands?”

She shoved past him as she pushed inside. “I got a note from our banker just before dinner that said he can’t pay my bills because the anticipated infusion of cash hasn’t arrived in my account. Why not?”

Gray folded his arms over his chest, wondering what other bills Caroline had run up since her gross over-expenditure on clothing. “However did you manage to restrain yourself during the hours since dinner?”

“I’ve been busy with the first lady,” she snapped. “What’s going on, Gray? Why haven’t you sold that ship?”

“Because Dad entrusted it and all its dealings to me, and I’ve decided not to sell. We’re keeping it.”

That took her aback, but only for a moment. A range of emotions crossed her face, but finally she smiled. “Good! I rather like the Pelican and was sorry to lose it. Let’s have a cup of tea, and you can tell me everything.”

She sashayed toward the kitchen, but he slid in front of her, bracing an arm on the frame of the door to block it.