Chapter 11
Catherine checked the angle of her hat in the mirror. “I do not suppose you would like to come along,”
“Not today,” Lydia Barrow said. She examined the stitches in her embroidery, then pulled the needle through once more before biting off a thread. “You have spoilt two riding habits. It is very damp.”
“Not for long. It will be summer soon.”
“Does Captain Avebury not mind the damp?”
Catherine laughed. “Not at all. Yesterday he proved that he could pull a fish out of the stream with his bare hands. I believe he must be country-bred.”
Lydia looked up at that. “Do you not know?”
Catherine paused. Then she picked up her gloves and turned around. “No,” she admitted. “He tells me what it is like to be commanding a ship in a violent storm, and what it smells like in Bombay. I’ve
