Suitors and Sabotage(76)

“Yes, I would say a swamped boat would fall into that category.” Ernest’s voice was unnaturally raspy. “Good to see you, Thirsty. How have you been?”

“Dicked in the nob, young sir, as always. Haven’t seen you in a month a Sundays.” The older man produced a harsh and phlegmy laugh, this time openmouthed, showing a maw of rotting teeth.

“Been busy,” Ernest said simply.

“So I heard. So I heard.” Thirsty’s gaze lifted, fixing on Imogene and Emily.

Imogene squirmed … until Emily squeezed her arm.

“How did you know to come looking for us?” Ben asked.

“All a bit of a rush, young sir. Got word from the big house. Feller came riding down to the port all in a lather. Seems someone saw yer boat go down. Thought we might be too late.” Then he laughed again. “Kinda glad we weren’t.”

Ben laughed, too. “So are we.”

*

THE JOURNEY BACK to the mainland was blissfully uneventful. Emily and Ernest sat with their eyes closed the entire trip—though for very different reasons. Were Imogene to guess: Emily was holding on to every ounce of willpower needed to see her across the water, and Ernest did not wish to inadvertently look at Imogene.

Uneventful, yes, but also uncomfortable.

Ben glanced her way several times, but when she met his gaze, he looked away immediately. Yes, very uncomfortable.

Thirsty and his crew deposited them and their goods back on the beach where they had departed just an hour and a quarter earlier. It had been the longest hour and a quarter of Imogene’s life—Emily might have said the same if Imogene had asked … which she didn’t.

A crowd met them—the Beeswangers, Mr. Tabard, Jake, and Percy. They clapped and grinned and generally acted as if a miracle had occurred. Or a party was required. When Imogene considered the condition of the skiff, it probably was.

A hatless Mr. Tabard rushed into the water as they approached, his hair wild and flying about in the breeze. His gaze was fixed on Emily. “Oh, my dear, my dear. Are you all right?” Grabbing the side of the boat, he helped haul it farther onto the beach, with Jake and Percy opposite. The crew seemed somewhat amused by the attention.

Lifting Emily over the gunwales, Mr. Tabard tried to carry her up the beach, but Jake had to come to his father’s aid. They shared Emily’s weight, making a chair, of sorts, joining their hands. All rather pointless, because Emily was still wet from slogging through the water at the island, but it was meant as a kindness.

Mr. Beeswanger did the same for Imogene, lifting her from the boat and, without any help, set her beside Emily, away from the water. Tut-tutting, but looking pleased, Mrs. Beeswanger declared their gowns only worthy of the dustheap. She pushed the hair off Emily’s face and tucked Imogene’s behind her ears in signs of affection and relief.

After expressions of gratitude were doled out liberally to Thirsty and his crew, the company headed down the beach. Jake and Percy led the way, carrying the skiff’s oars.

“You gave us quite the scare,” Mrs. Beeswanger said with a broad grin as she walked between her daughter and Imogene. “You have Mr. Tabard to thank for your rescue. He was watching through a spyglass and saw your boat get lower and lower in the water.”

Looking over her shoulder toward Mr. Tabard, Imogene saw that the old gentleman was frowning and shaking his head while staring at Emily as they walked. And he seemed to be muttering. He did not look jubilant, like a man proud of his role in their rescue; he looked haggard. “Are you well, Mr. Tabard?” Imogene asked.

“So very sorry, my dear.” Mr. Tabard was still watching Emily.

Emily shook her head, looking so much more herself now that they were back on dry land. “It is not your doing, Mr. Tabard. You did not swamp our boat. In fact, you saved us from many cold, damp hours of waiting.”

“But I did, I did. I am so sorry. I thought it would sink right away. As soon as it was put in the water. Boom, gone. You’re wading back up the beach. Disgruntled but fine. I didn’t think you would be able to get into it and row to the island. Most of the way, that is. I didn’t know. I’m not a sailor. I know nothing of boats. So you see, it is mostly my fault, but not entirely.”

Imogene started. Did she hear correctly? She stopped in her tracks, Ben bumping into her as he, too, stared at Mr. Tabard with a slack jaw. “What are you saying? Did you put a hole in the skiff?”

Putting his hand to his temple, Mr. Tabard finally looked at Imogene. “A hole? No, of course not. What kind of monster would put a hole in a boat? That would be dangerous. No, indeed, not a hole.… I chipped out some of the caulking.”

“What?” Imogene grabbed Ben’s arm as he lunged at Mr. Tabard. “You tried to kill us!” he shouted.

Mr. Tabard looked stupefied. “No need to be rude, young man,” he said, looking affronted. “After all, if it weren’t for you, none of this would have happened!” Shaking his head vehemently, he took several backward steps until Ernest blocked his retreat. “Clara would be most insulted by your accusation. Really. Tried to kill you … No, indeed! I tried to get you away from Emily is what I did. But you are a leech … a leech, I say.” He curled his mouth in disgust and shook his head.

By this time the company had halted. Percy and Jake, after having dropped the oars, had run back to investigate the commotion and joined the circle around Mr. Tabard. Pivoting, his gaze going from person to person, Mr. Tabard looked disoriented. Finally, his eyes lit on Jake, now standing between Ben and Ernest.