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up on deck and enjoy the fresh air.’
    ‘Maybe later: the watch is changing and I certainly would not want to get in the way.’ Nor, for the moment, could she face another encounter with Nick.
    ‘My dear girl, you cannot spend the next two weeks down here. You need company, conversation. If Maggot is free, ask him to tell you about Tangier.’ She dropped her voice. ‘Then you need have no concerns about being cornered by Mrs Woodrow.’ Easing herself down onto the pillow she sighed. ‘Poor Mr Woodrow. I hope it was worth the punishment.’
    ‘What do you mean?’ Kerenza covered her with a blanket.
    Beckoning her closer, Judith whispered. ‘I suspect Mr Woodrow is being hauled off to visit family in Gibraltar to distance him from one of his lady parishioners.’
    Kerenza gasped. ‘But – but he’s a minister.’
    ‘He is first a man, Kerenza,’ Judith reminded softly. ‘A good man who is constantly required to offer comfort to others yet clearly receives little himself. I do not think for one moment that he has done anything to discredit his calling. Yet though his lapse was probably minimal, I fear he will spend the rest of his life paying for it.’
    Kerenza was awed by Judith’s perception, and by her compassion. ‘Do you really think so?’
    ‘I am sure of it. I have met other women of Betsy Woodrow’s type. Women of narrow mind and strong will who seek to impose their values on all around them. Utterly convinced that they alone are right, they have no conception of the damage they do or the hurt they inflict. Such women spend their lives avidly seeking sin, and finding it in the most innocent exchange.’
    Kerenza shivered. The situation between her and Nick was already difficult. The thought of Betsy Woodrow watching, asking questions or jumping to conclusions, demanding denial or explanation – no, it would be insupportable.
    ‘Then perhaps it would be better if I do not talk to Maggot. I am quite used to my own company –’
    ‘No, that will not do!’ Judith pushed herself up on one elbow. ‘I told you only so that you may be on your guard. Surely you will want to learn something of Tangier? Who better than Maggot to answer your questions?’ She patted Kerenza’s hand. ‘Go along. I shall enjoy a little sleep and see you later.’

Chapter Five
    Sliding onto the nearest seat, Kerenza opened the small box that had once belonged to her grandfather. She took out the pen shaft and fitted a nib, then unscrewed the top of the squat inkbottle. Opening the leather case she dipped the pen and, after heading the sheet “Packet-ship Kestrel ”, and the date, wrote “Dearest Nana”.
    The clatter of boots on the brass stairs, then brisk footsteps in the passage, brought her head up with a jerk and her heart leaping into her throat. Shutting the writing case, she dropped the pen, which promptly rolled under the fiddle rails at the edge of the table and fell to the floor as Maggot walked in.
    Picking it up, he handed it to her with a smile. ‘Where is Lady Russell?’
    ‘She’s resting.’
    He pulled a wry face. ‘Not good time for sleep. Will be much noise.’ The door to the galley and fo’c’sle opened and Broad peered in.
    ‘Ready for your dinner, sir?’
    ‘Yes. Very quick, please. Mr Penrose fire guns soon.’
    Rolling his eyes, Broad disappeared.
    ‘Guns?’ Kerenza gulped. ‘Are we being attacked?’
    Pulling out the chair, Maggot sat down. ‘No, no. Is nothing to worry.’
    Kerenza released a shaky breath. ‘Then why –?’
    ‘New men in crew. They must learn.’
    Broad reappeared with a tray and set it down in front of the second mate.
    Kerenza gathered up her things. ‘I’ll leave you to your meal –’
    ‘No. Please, you stay. Is business for your father in Tangier?’ Picking up his knife and fork he began to eat.
    ‘In a way,’ Kerenza answered carefully. Business had taken her father, mother and sister to the Mediterranean a year earlier. Her father had wanted