“Major Eden doesn’t like to talk about his kindness,” Mrs. Davies said serenely. “I worked on his plantation, you see.” She poured with grace and handed us delicate porcelain cups with a steady hand. “He bought the place with everything in it and everything on it from a gentleman who was selling up and going back to England. When Major Eden took over, he freed all of us. There was nowhere in Antigua for me to go, so he made arrangements and sent me here, legally, finding me respectable work so I could pay my way.”
I recalled Eden telling me that if he had rescued a woman from Antigua, he’d free her first and have her ride a ship as a legitimate passenger. He’d already done so, damn the man, admitting to his actions without betraying himself.
Mrs. Davies’s mouth turned down in sadness. “The only thing I could not do was bring my son.”
Robbie was about ten if I were any judge, the same age as Mrs. Beadle’s grandson, Harry, and a little older than Peter. He had taken a seat next to Eden, his small legs swinging above the floor. He stared in blatant fascination at Brewster, who balanced his tiny teacup on huge fingers.
“Meaning young Robbie here wasn’t free to go?” Grenville asked.
“He belonged to Warrilow,” Eden said.
“Ah,” I took a sip of very good tea. “I begin to see.”
“Mr. Warrilow had sold me to his neighbor when Robbie was about six summers,” Mrs. Davies said. A spark of old anger rose. “He refused to let Robbie come with me, saying he was useful for work in the garden. It was not so bad—Mr. Warrilow’s plantation was close, and I visited Robbie whenever I could.” Her stoic words belied the anguish I saw in her eyes. She’d faced her pain with a courage most men I knew, including me, would lack. “When Major Eden freed me, I told him about Robbie. Major Eden promised he’d fetch him, and we’d be together always. I didn’t quite believe it.” She sent Eden a radiant glance.
“As you might guess,” Eden said. “Warrilow wouldn’t sell. I tried everything to talk him into it, even offering him an exorbitant price, but he would not budge. He knew I wanted Robbie badly and delighted in being intractable.” Eden shrugged. “So, I stole him.”
Robbie flashed a huge grin. “It was brilliant.”
Eden laughed with him. “Robbie is a born actor. I managed to speak to Robbie when I came to badger Warrilow, and told him exactly what he needed to do. Robbie never breathed a word to anyone, turned up to do his work in the gardens as per usual that day. He then walked off to eat his lunch in the field—as per usual—but he kept on to the windmill on the edge of the plantation, where I was waiting. I swept him up, and off we went. I’d already booked passage on the ship, and we boarded the next morning. I had no paperwork for the lad, nothing to say I owned him legally or that he was free to depart Antigua.” Eden rubbed his forehead. “So I had to smuggle him.”
“I hid in his trunk,” Robbie burst out. “He gave me things to eat and drink and said I had to be very quiet. I’m good at that.” His voice filled the room now, but when we’d come in, I’d never seen nor heard him by the fireplace.
I remembered the box with the key Eden had carried away from the Custom House. It was large enough for a small boy to hide in. That day Eden had also left me to Creasey, claiming to Brewster that he had an appointment. He’d likely been coming here, to check on Mrs. Davies and Robbie.
“He is a very good boy,” Mrs. Davies said with pride. “He did exactly what Major Eden said, and here he is.” Her happiness rolled from her, filling the cozy room.
“I did not keep him in the trunk the entire voyage,” Eden said hastily. “So, please do not look so appalled, Mr. Grenville. Once we were well out to sea, no turning back, I would have spoken to the captain and had the quartermaster fix a bunk for him. But, I am ever unlucky.” Eden sighed. “Warrilow decided at the last minute to sail to England, and ours was the only ship going that day.”
“Robbie is why you went constantly to the hold during the voyage,” I said, the pieces falling into place.
“Of course. I had to feed the poor mite, and let him walk about and relieve himself. One of the sailor boys was pleased to help and keep it quiet—he despised Warrilow too.”
“Did Warrilow discover you? After all, Robbie disappeared, and you, who’d tried avidly to buy him, left for England at the same time. Did Warrilow put the two events together?”
Eden made a noise of derision. “Do you know, he hadn’t even noticed Robbie was gone. When I came across Warrilow at supper the first night, he crowed that he’d thwarted me from purchasing the lad, and said obviously I could not now, as I was heading for England, never to return. At first, I thought he had found me out and was taunting me, but no. He had no idea.”
“How did you spirit Robbie away once you landed?” Grenville asked. “The customs agents were everywhere, you say, and they took your box.”
“That actually was easy. The sailor boy lent Robbie some of his clothes, and Robbie simply walked off the ship with him. No one pays much attention to boys. I did nearly have apoplexy when the customs officials said they were taking my baggage, but the sailor lad managed to get Robbie away while the men were searching the cargo. I thought all was well.”
“But?” I asked as Eden paused. “Why did you really look up Warrilow that night?”
“Because I saw him here in Wellclose Square. I met up with Robbie on the wharf and brought him to this house, which I’d leased a year or so ago, for Mrs. Davies. And there was Warrilow, walking into a house on the adjacent side of the square. Not terribly surprising, as there are only so many places in the area a man can lodge, but my bad luck again. I went to make certain that he hadn’t, in fact, seen Robbie, and also whether he’d be leaving London soon. But, as I say, he was in bed when I called. I’d planned to return the next day, but …” Eden threw open his hands.
“Then you never were found out,” Grenville said. “Why do you believe the customs agents will arrest you now?”
“Because Robbie has seen them flitting about near this house,” Eden said. “Tell them what you told me, lad.”
“I did see them,” Robbie said stoutly. “Wandering across the road near the church. I remember them from when they came down to search the hold. I had to hide until they were busy looking through the boxes, and then Jacko—he’s the one what gave me his clothes—led me off and showed me where to wait for the major.”
Robbie’s words put things together in my mind, all that I’d debated with myself whenever I pondered Eden’s problem, and what I’d been trying to sort out this morning.
“What else did you observe while you were in the hold, Robbie?” I asked. “When the agents were there?”
“The fat man giving them money,” Robbie said promptly.
“Fitzgerald,” I said.
“Precisely what I thought when Robbie told me all this today,” Eden said. “I imagine he’s the villain after all.”
I leaned to Robbie, trying to use my kindest voice, though my heart was beating swiftly in excitement. “What did the agents you saw across the road look like?”