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close enough to the wind to suit even the most demanding captain.
    But he was learning that the lady did not care for snow, particularly the sort that blew in like needles thrown by a capricious wind and turned a warm, sunny afternoon into a damp, icy cloud. Every time the wind shifted, the slightest movement of canvas broke the thin coating formed by half-melted snowflakes freezing on the sails, and the deck was pelted with flakes of shattered ice. He’d taken in sail twice, now, and even with only a staysail and the least possible canvas stretched fore-and-aft, she still seemed skittish.
    Marshall tried to be philosophical about discovering his lady’s foibles. They were lucky the weather had hit them when they had time to spare in their schedule and could learn how the Mermaid behaved in winter without endangering a mission.
    “At least we’re far enough offshore that we needn’t worry about running aground,” Davy said behind him.
    “Not unless you decide to put in and peddle those trinkets,” Will replied. “You were quite convincing.”
    “That’s the point of the game, is it not?” Davy said equably. “I draw the line at going to Paris, though. When the peace fails, the last place we’ll want to be is on French soil, and it’s a long run from Paris to the sea.”
    “I don’t want you going ashore at all,” Marshall said. “I know you must, in the trade ports, but with luck you’ll be able to do most of your dealing ship-to-ship. You should not take any unnecessary risks.”
    “Of course not. Really, Will, unnecessary risk is not part of the job.”
    “Not yet.” If he were to be honest, Marshall would have admitted that the cruise thus far had been singularly lacking in danger or risk of any sort. They had sailed around the Bay of Biscay, observed the coast of Normandy, and occasionally met with another small vessel to receive instructions from Sir Percy or to pass along the record of their observations. Their first mission, despite the urgency with which they’d been sent, had turned out to be nothing more than a delivery of much-needed gold to an agent awaiting funds before he was smuggled into Spain.
    If there was anything important going on with the French fleet, it would be on the other side of the country. Wasn’t Nelson in the Mediterranean, watching Toulon? That was where Bonaparte’s naval forces would be now, in weather warm enough to make repair and refitting an easy task. This was necessary work, he could not doubt that, but it was not the sort of job he was trained for. It was ridiculously easy.
    But this new mission was different, and not just because it would involve someone they knew. This time they’d have to go right in to the French shore, where they had no business going, and send a boat to pick up a passenger. “I wish your cousin had been able to persuade his father-in-law to stay in England.”
    Davy shrugged. “I don’t think he means to return after this, but I can understand why Dr. Colbert would want to finish old business in Paris. He left so suddenly, and for all he knows his house might have been burned down or seized by the government.” He rubbed his hands together, and stamped his feet against the cold. “I hope he’s found somewhere to get out of this bitter weather. He must be nearly sixty. It’s natural enough that he’d want to go back and sell the house, if he can.”
    “I suppose so. I hope he isn’t picked up as a spy.”
    “Why should he be? Will, hundreds of civilians have been thrown off-course by war. Dr. Colbert and his daughter were on perfectly innocent business, traveling home from a scientific conference when their ship was captured by the Calypso . The government gave them leave to go. They had no control over what happened.”
    That was true, from what the government of France knew of the affair. “Yes, but they could have gone back—and they did not.”
    “True, they were left at liberty in England—they could have returned to