warming his pale cheeks. “It’s a fine yacht, with swivel guns and a collection of small arms and four six-pound cannons. It can carry provisions for four months.”
“So, you have you been aboard then?” she asked.
The vicar nodded, his eyes gleaming. “It’s a great little ship.”
“The Royalist is 142-ton merchant schooner,” Brownell put in, with a wink of his good eye. “I told the Dyak chieftain mine was but a small vessel, that there are much bigger ships in His Majesty’s Royal Navy, but I do not think the old fellow believed me.”
“I was told you let the natives scramble aboard the vessel, like a pack of monkeys!” Arthur said.
Brownell chuckled. “Yes, and when one of them spit a mouthful of betel juice all over the newly-scrubbed deck, I thought my men would start a war.”
“I do not know why you invited them onboard in the first place,” Lady Brownell said, smoothing her skirt. “What were you thinking? They are savages after all.”
“It was Sunday. I intended to read to them from the Gospel of Mark,” he replied. “I am not sure they found it at all edifying. But then, I daresay I needed the instruction more than they.”
“How can you say so, Sir James?” Eleanor stammered in protest. “You’re jesting, are you not? They are heathen! Arthur has told me how they hang dried human heads from the rafters of their huts, with sea shells stuck in the empty eye sockets.”
“The Dyaks?” Prudence inquired, astonished. She recalled what Sir James had told her yesterday about the tribe and how he’d admitted he admired them. But how could he admire a tribe of headhunters who followed such savage customs? She felt confused and impatient with her confusion. What a complex man he was!
“I do not jest, Mrs. Greenwood,” he said, his face sobering. “They are ignorant of God’s word, it is true. But it would be dangerous, in a moral sense, for me to feel superior to them, don’t you see? I am but a sinner myself.”
Prudence eyed him suspiciously. Was this false modesty? She noted how Eleanor blushed and ducked her head to one side before murmuring her response, “Yes, I see.”
“James, can you not think of something more appropriate to talk about when in company?” his mother complained with a shake of her head. “One minute it is the smallpox and the next moment you are discussing headhunters.”
“Mrs. Greenwood, I beg your pardon,” he said turning to Dorothea. “I have put my dear mama to the blush yet again.” His manner was anything but repentant, Prudence noted. “Come, Arthur, we must be on our way,” he added, turning to the vicar.
“I shall be with you in a moment. I’ll just get my bathing kit and meet you downstairs,” he promised. Arthur then excused himself. Eleanor, with a quick smile for Prudence followed him out of the drawing room.
When Lady Brownell rose, so did Dorothea and Prudence. “Lady Brownell, are you leaving too?” Dorothea asked.
“Yes, she kept the carriage waiting,” Sir James answered for his mother. Turning to Prudence, he said, “She owns a bright blue coach with a crest emblazoned upon the door. She rides through the town as though she were a duchess. Such extravagance!”
Smiling, his mother shrugged a shoulder, apparently used to her son’s teasing manner. “Pay him no mind, Miss Pentyre. He does so love to tease me about my little indulgences.” Turning to Dorothea, Lady Brownell said, “I wanted to ask if you would come to dinner tomorrow evening. It will be a casual affair. Arthur and Eleanor are invited too, of course. We thought you might like to see some of the relics James brought back from his voyage.”
Dorothea’s face brightened. “Yes, we would love it above all things, Arthur particularly. He is intrigued by the Far East and quite fascinated by Sir James’s adventures there, as you know.”
“You are invited as well, Miss Pentyre,” Lady Brownell said, turning to Prudence with a gracious
“So, you have you been aboard then?” she asked.
The vicar nodded, his eyes gleaming. “It’s a great little ship.”
“The Royalist is 142-ton merchant schooner,” Brownell put in, with a wink of his good eye. “I told the Dyak chieftain mine was but a small vessel, that there are much bigger ships in His Majesty’s Royal Navy, but I do not think the old fellow believed me.”
“I was told you let the natives scramble aboard the vessel, like a pack of monkeys!” Arthur said.
Brownell chuckled. “Yes, and when one of them spit a mouthful of betel juice all over the newly-scrubbed deck, I thought my men would start a war.”
“I do not know why you invited them onboard in the first place,” Lady Brownell said, smoothing her skirt. “What were you thinking? They are savages after all.”
“It was Sunday. I intended to read to them from the Gospel of Mark,” he replied. “I am not sure they found it at all edifying. But then, I daresay I needed the instruction more than they.”
“How can you say so, Sir James?” Eleanor stammered in protest. “You’re jesting, are you not? They are heathen! Arthur has told me how they hang dried human heads from the rafters of their huts, with sea shells stuck in the empty eye sockets.”
“The Dyaks?” Prudence inquired, astonished. She recalled what Sir James had told her yesterday about the tribe and how he’d admitted he admired them. But how could he admire a tribe of headhunters who followed such savage customs? She felt confused and impatient with her confusion. What a complex man he was!
“I do not jest, Mrs. Greenwood,” he said, his face sobering. “They are ignorant of God’s word, it is true. But it would be dangerous, in a moral sense, for me to feel superior to them, don’t you see? I am but a sinner myself.”
Prudence eyed him suspiciously. Was this false modesty? She noted how Eleanor blushed and ducked her head to one side before murmuring her response, “Yes, I see.”
“James, can you not think of something more appropriate to talk about when in company?” his mother complained with a shake of her head. “One minute it is the smallpox and the next moment you are discussing headhunters.”
“Mrs. Greenwood, I beg your pardon,” he said turning to Dorothea. “I have put my dear mama to the blush yet again.” His manner was anything but repentant, Prudence noted. “Come, Arthur, we must be on our way,” he added, turning to the vicar.
“I shall be with you in a moment. I’ll just get my bathing kit and meet you downstairs,” he promised. Arthur then excused himself. Eleanor, with a quick smile for Prudence followed him out of the drawing room.
When Lady Brownell rose, so did Dorothea and Prudence. “Lady Brownell, are you leaving too?” Dorothea asked.
“Yes, she kept the carriage waiting,” Sir James answered for his mother. Turning to Prudence, he said, “She owns a bright blue coach with a crest emblazoned upon the door. She rides through the town as though she were a duchess. Such extravagance!”
Smiling, his mother shrugged a shoulder, apparently used to her son’s teasing manner. “Pay him no mind, Miss Pentyre. He does so love to tease me about my little indulgences.” Turning to Dorothea, Lady Brownell said, “I wanted to ask if you would come to dinner tomorrow evening. It will be a casual affair. Arthur and Eleanor are invited too, of course. We thought you might like to see some of the relics James brought back from his voyage.”
Dorothea’s face brightened. “Yes, we would love it above all things, Arthur particularly. He is intrigued by the Far East and quite fascinated by Sir James’s adventures there, as you know.”
“You are invited as well, Miss Pentyre,” Lady Brownell said, turning to Prudence with a gracious
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