Free Sons of Liberty by Christopher G. Nuttall Page B

at her chest - “to the Americas. Lady Irene will serve as chaperone during this long affair, as she is a distant relation of Lady Standish.”

    “ Very good,” Gwen said. “And Lord Standish?”

    “ Has given his approval,” Irene said. “He does not want the burden of a young ward when there is no shortage of work in the Foreign Office.”

    Gwen smiled in approval. If a young lady could not be chaperoned by her mother, for whatever reason, it was not uncommon for a more distant female relative to take on the burden of escorting and protecting the girl. She had no doubt there was a Lady Irene Darlington somewhere in the tangled web of families that made up polite society, although she might be surprised by what was being done in her name. Lord Mycroft had quite a few false identities floating around, just waiting for the moment to use them.

    “ I could just have stayed in London,” Raechel pointed out. “It’s going to look as though I’m in trouble, isn't it?”

    “ Hardly anyone in America will care,” Irene assured her. “And besides, who could possibly blame Lord Standish for wanting to keep you out of danger?”

    “He took me to Russia,” Raechel snapped.

    “ It wasn't meant to be dangerous,” Gwen reminded her. In truth, she doubted Lord Standish had been offered a choice. “Still, if you don’t want to go ...”

    “I do,” Raechel said.

    “ Then meet us at the ship, as planned,” Gwen ordered. “And make sure you have enough to occupy yourself for three weeks. It’s going to be a long voyage.”

    “ Don’t worry,” Irene said. She smiled, rather unpleasantly. “I’ll keep her occupied.”

Chapter Seven

    “ I hope you have a pleasant voyage, Lady Gwen,” Lord Mycroft said, as the carriage rolled to a halt. “And that you reach New York safely.”

    Gwen nodded, unable to keep from feeling a little nervous. She’d been on boats before, but she’d never sailed on the ocean. An airship would have been nicer, she was sure, yet she understood why they couldn't take the risk. The chances of surviving an accident at sea were far greater than surviving an airship crash.

    “ I won’t let you down,” she promised him. “And thank you for driving me down to the docks.”

    Lord Mycroft gave her a flicker of a smile. “I can't stay,” he said. He held out a hand, which she shook firmly. “But I do wish you every success.”

    Gwen reached out and drew back the curtains. The driver had taken them through the two checkpoints, right up to the docks themselves. HMS Duke of India rose up in front of her, her masts towering up towards the sky. Steam rose from her rear, reminding Gwen that the ship was both a sailing ship and a steamship. Beyond her, four other troopships floated, the troops having been loaded aboard last night. She shuddered, thinking of the cramped conditions the common soldiers would have to endure. Their horses wouldn’t have a good time of it either.

    “ Thank you,” she said, as she opened the door. “I’ll see you soon.”

    She dropped neatly to the ground and walked towards the gangplank. The docks were far up the river, just in case the French tried a repeat of the Dutch raid on the Medway, but the ship was rising up and down slowly anyway. She nodded to the soldier on guard at the bottom of the gangplank, then forced herself to walk up onto the ship. It felt odd beneath her feet, even though she was used to flying through the air. She hoped, desperately, that she wouldn’t fall seasick. The last thing she wanted was to spend the voyage in her cabin, praying desperately for calm seas.

    “ Lady Gwen, I believe,” a voice said, as she reached the top of the gangplank. “I am Captain Bligh. Welcome aboard.”

    Gwen nodded. She’d read his file. Captain Archibald Bligh had a reputation for being a harsh taskmaster - his hard face, scarred and pitted by years in the service, certainly supported it - but there were few seamen more competent. No