Ransom by Lee Rowan Page A

Smith’s very clear orders, the prospect of giving his word to this kidnapper was out of the question. He offered no further explanation, remembering his promise to be as noncommittal and uninformative as possible.
    Silence proved easier than he had expected, so easy that it became unsettling. Adrian watched him closely with those blank-mirror eyes, saying little as they ate. Archer, for his part, felt no obligation to shoulder the burden of polite conversation with someone who’d kidnapped him.
    Eventually, though, Adrian pushed his plate away. “You are no doubt wondering why I invited you to join me,” he said.
    Archer was tempted to point out that he’d received an order, not an invitation. No. Be careful. “Of course.”
    “Curiosity, Mr. Archer. In my line of business it is essential to research my subjects, but the bare facts really tell so little. I know of your captain, of course; what Englishman doesn’t? But I was surprised to learn he had a nephew—or cousin, isn’t it? Were you aware of his relationship with Mr. Marshall?”
    “I believe the Captain mentioned it, once,” Archer hedged. Never mind when he’d mentioned it, or under what circumstances. “But I understand they both prefer that Mr. Marshall succeed on his own merits, rather than through connections.”
    “How very noble. Most gentlemen would think it strange not to make full use of such an advantage.”
    This certainly didn’t seem to be a fishing expedition for military information. “I do not believe that Captain Smith would keep any officer on board who was not prepared to earn his way,” he said honestly, “relative or not. Nor do I believe that Mr. Marshall wishes or requires an unfair advantage.”
    “He has moved up more quickly than you have,” Adrian interjected with an unpleasant smile.
    “He has seen several years’ more active duty than I.” Archer began to see the direction this conversation was headed. Would it be useful to let Adrian think there was a rivalry between him and William? Possibly, but not until they had discussed it between themselves, and even then it was an unpleasant prospect.
    Archer recognized that he was not as ambitious as Marshall was. At first he had been a little envious of his friend’s success, but it was impossible to hold ill feelings toward Will. In the years they’d sailed together, he had grown fonder of the serious minister’s son than he was of his own brothers. Now, for the most part, he enjoyed being nearly neck-and-neck with Will, like runners pacing one another in a long-distance race.
    And it wasn’t as though Will would ever do anything to hold him back; as soon as Captain Smith told Archer to prepare himself for the examination, Will had done everything he could to help him. And being one step behind Will nourished Archer’s secret dream: when Will was Captain of his own ship he might take Archer with him as his lieutenant.
    But he dared not daydream now, under Adrian’s watchful eyes, and the man clearly expected a more elaborate answer. “I am satisfied with my progress, sir. From what I have seen aboard Calypso , there is no shortage of opportunity to prove one’s ability.”
    “Ah, yes. Service on a frigate, the intrepid huntinghawks of the Fleet. Such an exciting life, while my own merchant’s lot is so routine. Have you any tales you might share?”
    “Only what you might read in the Naval Gazette .” Archer shook his head. “I doubt I can tell you much about our latest catch; your men captured us before we could unload the French ships, and I know nothing of the papers they carried.”
    “I understand the Calypso was damaged. Will she be in long for repairs?”
    There it was, a question of military significance. “I really couldn’t say,” Archer said. “Had your men waited an hour or two, I could have told you. Of course, if you were to put us back ashore so we might continue on our business, I would be happy to answer your question by