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  Spain had apparently considered sending troops over to try to support their colonial efforts here, until England informed them that any troops from Spain would be would be seen as a further aggressive gesture and matched by effort from England. For now, they had sent over these new orders and ambassadors from both nations to try to make peace, though Spain's would largely be arriving weeks from now when the ships arrived. The British who arrived with Mr. Toomes included both line troops and experienced officers who would be taking over our command here.

  In other news, it seems a new proclamation has gone through England. Between international tensions and the ongoing controversy and negotiation of the King's morganatic marriage, new legal decisions were called for in regards to Catholicism. Now, apparently, the men of Catholic belief who will swear to loyalty to the Crown before the pope may remain, and many of those troops will be allowed to rise to officer ranks, a most generous incentive. The rest cannot be deemed entirely trustworthy in putting the interests of the nation first, of course, so they may return to Ireland, if they are from that nation, or they may volunteer instead to serve a term in America. There they can help settle and defend the lands gained from the French and Spanish. For now, the English here are holding onto the two forts we seized and the sections of northern Florida that are occupied, fortifying them until a peace can be reached or some sort of bargain arranged.

  Now that we know for certain that England will take the best of all worlds concerning our successes, there remains the matter of what is to be done with us. Certainly they cannot satisfy Spain, for Scotland would be quite irate should Edward McBride be portrayed as anything less than a national hero, and certainly the Scots will protest any outcome save belief he was absolutely deceived. England would be likewise disposed as concerns Sir James, but, of course, he has disappeared. The rest of us have a degree of protection because of association, and the military and Crown are not likely inclined to sacrifice any of us towards peace with a country that we have already defeated and that poses us no threat. The national interest, however, is in trade, so something must be done.

  As such, the reports shall be that they narrowly missed us here in New Orleans before we moved on in search of evidence as to who kidnapped Sir James and who perpetrated this deception which has so affected England and Spain alike. This should satisfy England and perhaps pacify Spain until tempers can settle enough for talks to resume. However, because of this, we must first follow York to South America to attempt a rescue there, and capture York for questioning. Until such time as we have his testimony, no actions will be taken against Lord Montague. To even suggest that such a well-connected gentleman was guilty of any wrongdoing would require far more proof than we have, and even we suspect he may well have known nothing of York's ambitions.

  Should we succeed, we might be permitted to return home for a time, but even then, we have a large task before us. At first, we thought that the fact some reports and orders had been falsified may have meant that another aspect of our orders had also been forged. However, it seems that the single most difficult task of diplomacy included among our orders was, in fact, genuinely included in our instructions and tasks at direct request from the Crown.

  The Dutch, who had been occupied by France for a time, have long been the only nation capable of entering Japan in any capacity, for that nation closed its doors to outsiders long ago. A single Dutch isle still is permitted to conduct trade, and every few years, the Shogun – whatever sort of position that is – insists that they present their representatives in his court. The last time, he was shown some trinket that the Dutch had gained of English make, and it most fascinated him. When the English inadvertently released the Dutch from occupation in our wars by defeating Napoleon, it achieved enough good will that the Shogun has issued a unique invitation for a diplomatic meeting.

  This presents an especial difficulty to us as well, and were we not already greatly inspired to see to Sir James's rescue, this would add cause. The Shogun has apparently heard of Sir James and requested to meet with him specifically, if the diplomatic group was to be allowed to enter Japan at all. This is the other reason for Mr. Toomes's largess in letting us go in pursuit of Sir James and his kidnappers, as the Crown is definitely most interested in any progress it might make in opening Japan to trade discussions. We are commanded to make certain that whatever else we do, we attend that meeting with Sir James among our number.

  Thankfully, the trip to Japan is not even in this year, so we have time to pursue and effect a rescue before the event, but it does assure that we will be kept busy – and unable to return home for any lengthy stay – for some time to come.

  We have been provided some resources for further travel, but it is certainly not the pay we were expecting. Even so, should we complete our mission, when we are cleared, a greater part of the royal coffers may be opened to us in reward, but in the meantime, we are commanded to continue serving the interests of England and representing them among some of the cultures along our path. Likewise, we are still to make maps and explore the world to open possibilities of later expansion, colonization or to simply inspire the English public and satisfy the curiosities of the Crown and the Explorers' Society.

  So now this has gone from a mission for which we have volunteered, with clear motivation and reward, to a mission for which we have been volunteered. There is no question that we now must not only complete the tasks set out for us, but chase people of the most dangerous sorts who could now be anywhere in the world, rescue our leader – without Sir James's leadership all the while – and still do all we were assigned to do. The cost of failure is now significantly higher as well.

  Before, of course, our lives were on the line, but the road ahead has become even more threatening, and there is no guarantee of pay or fame for simply making the attempt. Only success will do. Certainly much of this we might have done anyway, for there is no love lost now for York, and we had set ourselves to going to Sir James's rescue as soon as possible anyway out of personal loyalty and, in some cases, family duty, but now it is an imperative on which so much else rests.

  In addition – and just as poorly received – we will have to make room and provide food and facilities for a criminal. Though we had thought we had learned everything worthwhile from Miss Larkin, Mr. Toomes has informed us that she must come with us, just in case she might be willing to give us some further information as we travel, should we fail in South America. She was very much the only part of New Orleans I had been looking much forward to leaving behind.

  We have our work cut out for us, and I still find myself quite disliking Mr. Toomes and his pipes. I am not sure this news and command could have come through a worse agent, no matter whom he might represent.

  The one additional difficulty that came up in this meeting: Mr. Toomes asked for my journals, notes, photographs and other letters regarding all that we had seen and done, to pass on to the Crown and the military, for the letters to our former employer, while helpful, were obviously missing some details I hinted at having documented elsewhere. I am now not sure why, but at the time, I made up a superstition on the spot. I informed him it would be a terrible omen to surrender journals before they were complete. Likewise, my letters had all been sent away.

  While this was not true, something told me that he was not the best agency right then to make sure everything was sent to the proper parties, especially if we wished to receive all proper credit for our work. I continue to question myself over this decision now, but in particular, my letters to my dear Cordelia will not be surrendered, and the information that my company has shared with me – and may wish to be confidential – shall remain in confidence. Most likely it was simply my personal dislike for Mr. Toomes.

  As he had limited authority, he did not press particularly hard on this, especially as he had little to offer. After all, we were unwittingly escaping his authority before he'd reached New Orleans. There was no reason to lead anyone to question his word.

 
However, though I did not surrender my books to Toomes, I have agreed to continue to make reports to the British military and the Royal Explorers' Society, that they may track our progress and log such information as regards our travels and is of immediate importance to them. I am also to report all progress made in regards to the rescue of Sir James and the attempts to bring in York and his fellows.

  Letter from Heathsville, Northumberland County, Virginia Colony Archives, Wright Collection.

  February 12th, 1816

  Dearest Mother and Daddy,

  Good news! I'm no longer a hostage. Don't worry! My imprisonment was chaperoned, and the Colonel who took me hostage was as much a gentleman as a traitor and a cad is capable of being. I had so hoped he was a tragic figure who just needed a little fixing up – until he tried to extort Jillian into marriage with her brother's life in the balance. Well, being wrong is how we learn, right, Daddy? And I made a point to learn a lot.

  The ladies he set to guarding over me are a study in contrasts. One appears, at first glance, to be a lady of some good family. She might well be, but if she is, she only had further to fall. She is their seductress, and, when that fails, as it did with dear Cousin James, she is their poisoner. In enforced downtime, she has the very unladylike pursuit of knife sharpening to keep her hands from being idle. Her knives are long daggers in length, but tiny in breadth. She might have sharpened them to nothing if we were there longer.

  The other lady was of a certain age, and dressed so as to be mistaken for the first's governess when they were about. In private, there was certainly no governing of Miss Larkin (there still isn't, not even now that she gets to be the prisoner). This older lady spent all of our confinement writing: reports, letters, and I even saw ledgers. She appears to be their Gregory.

  Her cat tried to tempt her into knitting, but she was not to be distracted from her inks until Col. York came to talk business. The cat would have liked me knitting, but they only had metal pins and were not willing to let me so much as hold them, let alone make a few rounds on the socks. Perhaps, knowing what can be done with tiny little knives, and not knowing me, they felt it was safer. It was certainly safer, if only for the socks. I still can't manage it, Mother. Mrs. Fisher shakes her head, steals back the wool, and sets me to embroidering handkerchiefs that will only be ruined in a week.

  More good news, your letters have arrived here in New Orleans. I was quite surprised to hear that our photographs and descriptions have started a fashion for coal-dust gray dresses for travel (Mrs. Fisher insists we refer to this as dove gray. I've yet to meet a dove this color). They are practical, when aboard, to be sure, and Jillian is ever setting trends. Perhaps, next, we can together start a trend for ink- and-machine-grease gray, which would an even more practical color to become fashionable.

  Unfortunately, all that good news is followed by bad news. It appears some of our orders were forged. With the assistance of Col. Wolf-in-Gentleman's-Clothing, this led to us starting a war we were not supposed to start.

  We have been politely asked to go find proof that this was not really all our sneaky plot – and to not show ourselves in civilized company until we do so.

  Some of the local boys were talking about the lack of farm slaves, when I was about. I asked what they had done as far as farm mechanization. This led to a rather involved discussion. One of the volunteers was the third son of Mr. Henry Talbot, whom I believe you know, Daddy. If he sends a letter about tractors, that's why. I explained how we'd divested from the whole slaveholding business soon as we could get those wonderful threshers. I told him how we were managing just fine with freed housemaids, the mechanicals, and Irish sharecroppers. Young Mr. Wm. Talbot (who is even younger than me) was interested. You might brag it about at your clubs, Daddy, since it appears people are nervous about England’s abolitionists.

  I've told you of Miss Julietta Penn, who travels with us. (And yes, Mother, she behaves up to Mrs. Fisher's standards. Her backstitch flowers are superb. I envy her blackwork.) She reads cards, but not like the charlatan types you normally huff at, Mother. She tells no happy tales for tips. I once saw her read her own future and faint back in her chair – and nearly fall, for our chairs have no arms. Conservation of weight on board ship and all, but really, chair arms?

  Finally, on the long stretch back from the coast, I asked her to read my marriage prospects for me. The cards told her I’d marry a gentleman of rank. I'll admit I was still holding out hope at the time it would be York. Aunty Sally said any rank over Captain was eligible, and he's an unmarried Colonel. That's out of the question now, of course. Whatever his hate-filled little daydreams think marriage is like, I want no part of it.

  I asked Julietta whom the cards said she would marry. She just got flustered and said they'd had no comment on her being legally wed. Then she got more flustered as someone came over, even though it was just Samantha Bowe, not anyone who frowns at the cards and such.

  Following letters should be not be sent. But do save me any more clippings like the one about the traveling dresses. I'll send an address when I can.

  Your loving Daughter,

  Harriet Wright

  From the letters of Giovanni Franzini,

  February 12th, 1816

  Sir,

  I can understand your frustrations regarding the ongoing peace process with Spain, but the failure is hardly mine. You were made well aware of Julietta's predictions of a year of darkness, which she also, unhelpfully, relayed accurately to this crew. You manage to have the finest whore in Oxfordshire maintaining your puppet-strings, but you can't do anything to pry Bowe off my associate?

  I should also inform you that your favorite pawn misplayed his hand. It seems his infatuation with Miss Coltrane has continued well into business. I can confirm that he almost botched everything to try to force her hand. While that catastrophe was avoided, he did allow her cousin a look at his maps. Between her memory for detail and Bowe, they're already headed the right direction. I do hope that York will be suitably prepared for an arrival well ahead of schedule. Shame that you sent him well out of reach of any post service. I'm certain you'd love to be able to warn him about now.

  I will continue to do my part in seeing that the correct pieces are played where they ought to be, but I warn you, you've entrusted critical parts of your plan to the wrong people. When I'm your most trustworthy and faithful servant, you have a larger problem than simply failing to start a war between England and Spain. At least our "daring escape" should keep Spain on edge and slow the peace process.

  Your servant, reluctantly,

  Giovanni Franzini

  February 13th, 1816

  New Orleans

  29º57'N 090º04'W

  My Dearest Cordelia,

  What must you think of all the arriving news? To hear that we are wanted for attacking New Spain without orders or backing of England? That we have lost Sir James to kidnappers? That Lord Donovan has died when we were about on his errand? While I cannot say that all was going well, certainly, there was such hope that I might finish this errand and end up enough of a hero that we could marry and live well. Now, I am not certain what to think. I am a loyal son of England. All that we have done is follow the orders we were given, with full belief we were serving the wishes of the Crown. We already are so far away from the news from home, politics, and all the rest. It is simply maddening, preparing to leave New Orleans, to travel even further afield, further away from any kind of security or news.

  I wish I could give you some comfort now, assure you that all will be well. And perhaps it will be still. We are still enough of England's favored sons that we have been given an opportunity to carry on and make up for our mistakes, instead of being hauled home like common criminals. Indeed, if we are criminals, we are most uncommon ones, for I cannot even understand how such a thing could be done. Those with a grudge against Spain and influence enough to help orchestrate the forgeries must have made contact with York and offered him enough to sway his loyalties a
nd use him as their agent. Lord Montague has to be suspect, but if York turned traitor on the nation, he may well have turned on his employer while keeping his true allies secret.

  I long for something to make sense amidst all of this chaos. We are now leaderless, going into a world apart from anything I know. There is no calm guidance now, just a sense of urgency that no one voices, but everyone seems to feel.

  Everyone, that is, save for our newest passenger, whose accommodation has further delayed us. Miss Larkin has been entrusted to our care after we captured her in New Orleans, and ever since, she has been taking every opportunity to try to get under the skin of all of the crew whenever she has the chance, or else trying her womanly charms to convince someone to release her, as unlikely as that may be. All are well aware of the dangers, even were anyone of the sort to be tempted. We are discussing other options for her transport that might give the rest of us some peace, but so far have not come up with any clear options.

  Of all of us, Miss Penn has so far seemed the most capable of dealing with her barbs; she returns them without losing her temper or sharing the slattern's unladylike vocabulary. Forgive me my own colorful language, dearest; it seems she has gotten to my nerves as well, though not so much as Eddy's. He seems to be quite set upon finding a means by which to muzzle her. Thankfully, Mr. Franzini has shown himself quite capable of ignoring her. Normally, she would seem just his type of associate, but he seems to have as little patience for her as any of us.