Slavery was outlawed in England in 1833. The Sultan Sultan Said ibn Sultan's reign (1806–1856), profited greatly from the slave trade and was a major feeder to England for slaves. A sheng is an East Asian instrument, precursor to the harmonica.

Winter, 1815

Anthony sipped at the port, his gaze tracking the mirthful conversation as it bounced from one officer to another over the captain's table. Over the few days of travel they'd covered since leaving India, Anthony had concluded that these Americans, while differing from their British peers in many ways, were no less competent seamen and officers. Captain Alexanderson was both well-traveled and cultured, holding a quick wit and intellect that would hold up against any prestigious dinner party in London. Mister Morris was likewise keen on "more enlightened" matters and held a charm that could woo the stays off the most staunch of the ton. Chief Mate Beebe was a bit rougher on the edges but no less intelligent, and the Second Mate Berwick, youngest of the officers, proved to be the quietest as well, far more inclined to observe and respond as his elders did than stick out from the rest.

"And will we be going into the Gulf of Oman?" Anthony questioned as the laughter died down from the captain's exaggerated tale of gross mismanagement of resources against Arabian pirates in his years as a ship's boy.

Beebe nodded, "Aye. We have some cargo to offload for the sultan before moving down along the African coast."

Anthony shifted uncomfortably in his wooden chair. He'd been warned of Arabian pirates both before and during the voyage. To hear of their coming destination spoken so casually and immediately after the captain's tale, Anthony wondered if British officers would also be so calm at the concept of willingly sailing into a likely dangerous scenario.

"It will not be our first time in port," Morris added, noting Anthony's obvious discomfort, "and as I mentioned when you first came aboard, we are prepared for attack if anyone is foolish enough to try."

"Has anyone been foolish enough to try?" Anthony quipped back, both curious and wary of the coming answer.

"Yes," the ship's designer spoke this time, reminding Anthony of her presence at the far end of the table, "and three seamen were injured in that attack. But we were able to outrun the attackers with no loss of cargo and no loss of life. And while the ships in those parts have advanced in design since then, they are still inferior in speed to the Spirit."

Beebe nodded before adding, "As long as we keep our wits about us and don't get involved with any of their nefarious dealings, we should be right as rain."

Anthony's quizzical look had the captain sighing. "The sultanate's primary income source is the trade in human life. While most of these slaves remain in this region and further into the interior of the Continent, some of those humans are being shipped to England and her colonies." He glanced at Anthony a moment before focusing his attention on his half-drunk port swirling in his glass. "I am not one to judge another's trade nor do I see myself as any better than my peers; however, in my years at sea, nothing good comes from dealing in buying and selling of human life, regardless of their origin or destination."

The men around the table nodded in agreement, with Berwick offering a delayed nod as well. Anthony spared a glance toward Miss Carney and was surprised to find her eyes already focused on his personage.

"The past attack came from our interference with a transaction." She commented, gaze direct and voice clear. "The mercantile captain we intercepted was less than pleased when we fished some of his would-be slaves out of the water, where they'd thrown themselves in an effort to escape the market at port. He felt our hesitancy in their immediate return was an act of piracy and, well," she raised her glass of port toward her lips, "misunderstandings are bound to happen."

Anthony still found it odd that she remained at the table after each meal, speaking openly and plainly with the men, drinking the same and eating the same as the rest of them. The only thing she did not do that some of the officers did was smoke. Instead, she would roll the cigars for them as they spoke of both serious and trivial matters. While at first, her presence had been jarring, almost uncomfortable, now it was just an expected eccentricity that accompanied his time on the ship. She never tried to command conversations and shied away from offering her opinions or experiences when pertinent.

Miss Carney had never been confrontational or oppositional, at least not in his presence, even when she differed greatly in opinion. It seemed she appreciated, if not enjoyed, it when others disagreed with her, yet they could still talk through the topic. He'd not been on the receiving end of this sort of repartee, but he'd been witness to it and had found the circumstances curious. But he supposed it took a curious and eccentric woman confident in her abilities and mind to live outside the societal expectations put upon her gender. Anthony had a brief image of Eloise meeting with Miss Carney and couldn't help but smile. Undoubtedly all sorts of things would be discussed that his mother and Daphne would disapprove of if that ever happened.

"Speaking of misunderstandings," Morris interrupted Anthony's thoughts, drawing the conversation away from slavery and directing attention onto Miss Carney as he continued, "will you be going inland to Hertfordshire while we are at port in England, Miss Carney?"

Miss Carney raised a single eyebrow at her distant cousin's question, "I am due to make a call at Roscullen Hall, yes. Do you want me to carry a message to anyone in particular while I am there?" Her question was as pointed as Morris' had been, with everyone's gaze bouncing from the woman back to the man as if watching a tennis match.

"No," Morris managed to smile in response, "merely curious. I believe Mister Bridgerton will also be traveling to Aubrey Hall, will you not?" Anthony mutely nodded. By the time they arrived in England, the family would be back at their country home. "Perhaps you would be open to escorting Miss Carney?"

Anthony shot a look at Miss Carney, not sure how to interpret the expression on her face. While at first, he thought he spied annoyance, whatever he'd seen at first melted into neutrality by the time she caught his eyes.

"That is still weeks away, and I would not presume upon Mister Bridgerton's time. I have made the journey without escort before." She broke eye contact with Anthony long enough to give Morris another pointed stare before resuming eye contact with Anthony and offering a hesitant smile. "Will all your family be awaiting your arrival, Mister Bridgerton? I am certain they are all eagerly looking forward to seeing you again."

Anthony cleared his throat as he sat up straighter. He was sure some would be looking forward to it more than others if they'd known he was coming.

"I sincerely hope so, Miss Carney. While I wrote a letter soon after I received their last update, I would not be surprised if I managed to beat it out and arrived at Aubrey Hall before it, considering the speed of the Spirit." She gave a polite nod at his sincere flattery for the ship. "I believe most will be at the Hall, regardless. And," he glanced toward Morris a moment before clearing his throat again, "if you are in need of escort, Roscullen Hall is not very far from Aubrey Hall. It would be no trouble."

The quick narrowing of Miss Carney's gaze took Anthony off guard. He'd not expected that response, but same as before with Morris' initial suggestion, the look was gone before Anthony could determine its cause, and in its place, Miss Carney gave another nod and a smile. Anthony heard Morris clear his throat and turned to look at the man, catching a view of a fleeting smile before the supercargo tipped his head back and finished off his port. He was not dense enough to presume nothing was going on beneath the surface between Morris and Miss Carney. Anthony knew he'd been used as a ploy against Miss Carney but had yet to determine to what end.

"Thank you, Mister Bridgerton," Miss Carney's accented voice had him glancing back toward her, "I appreciate the offer." She pushed back from the table and rose, "If you would excuse me, gentlemen, Mister Decatur promised me a few fiddle tunes before the end of his watch, and I intend upon collecting on that promise."

At his side, Berwick surged to his feet, surprising Anthony and earning a smile from Miss Carney, "I almost forgot he asked me to play my sheng with him." He gave a more formal bow to the captain, waiting for the older man's nod, before moving toward the exit with Miss Carney.

"If you have never witnessed a deck side concert Mister Bridgerton," Captain Alexanderson's gravely voice followed in the wake of their exit, "I suggest you follow close behind."

Recognizing that he'd been dismissed to his own devices back in his cabin for the remainder of the evening or to the deck, Anthony gave the captain a formal nod before standing. He followed close behind Berwick and Miss Carney, managing to attract the latter's attention. She gave him a welcoming smile as they moved through the narrow corridor toward the stairs leading back to the deck.

"If you stay for the 'concert,' don't be too surprised if one of the crew asks you to join in a dance," she commented over her shoulder, "you obviously don't have to accept, but it is a sign of respect if they offer." She again smiled at him before adding, "Just for context."

Anthony nodded. He had no intention of dancing and still didn't know if he wanted to stay for the concert at all. But the genuine warmth of Miss Carney's smile had him curious enough to be willing to stay for a song. At the very least.