A Simple Deception

XXVII

"Absence is to love what wind is to fire; it extinguishes the small, it inflames the great." Roger de Bussy-Rabutin

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XXVII.

Susanna's claim was met by sneers, sniggers, and even remarks of congratulations from the crew members at the table towards their captain. They appraised her, eyed her in a way that no man had ever dared look upon her before. These were no gentlemen. Susanna immediately realised what they were assuming.

"A young lady no less," said one as he clapped the captain on the back. "Well done, sir."

The captain appeared dumbfounded; his eyes wide with shock as he searched Susanna's face for any ounce of recognition. His eyes then went to Adam and he held up his hands as he shook off the congratulatory hand of his crewman. "Are you the husband?" he asked. "I've never seen her before in my life."

"I am the lady's brother," replied Adam coolly, "and I'll thank the lot of you to remember that you are in the presence of a lady," he snapped at the jeering crew.

"Forgive me, Captain," appealed Susanna, "for you have misunderstood me. We have never met, but I know your son."

Relief flooded the face of Captain Whitfield, who had no doubt been expecting Adam to challenge him to a duel in that very moment. "You are mistaken, Miss," he said dismissively. "I have no son."

He seemed quite convinced, but Susanna could not believe this to be a coincidence. How many sailors with that name travelled through these parts? He was about the right age. There were definite similarities between him and Alex. Would he remember Alex's mother? Or was she ... was he the type to celebrate conquests as his crew seemed to do.

"Susanna, are you certain? How do you know?" Adam asked her quietly.

Susanna briefly looked up at her brother. "Alex told me about his father ... please, believe me."

Captain Whitfield's ears pricked up. "The boy's name is Alex?" he asked.

"Yes, but –"

"Might we step outside, Captain?" Adam calmly interjected.

Captain Whitfield did not seem convinced, but Susanna could see the curiosity and growing unease in his blue stare. He had not entirely dismissed the notion, which meant that he perhaps believed there was a possibility.

The captain nodded, and stood up from the table, folding his hand at cards and forfeiting whatever money was in the pot. He led Adam and Susanna back through the dining room and out onto the porch of Le Chat Dansant. They passed the scantily clad woman who manned the door, the captain muttering something in French to her as he walked to one end of the porch.

Despite the sounds of the street, there was significantly less noise out on the porch than there was in the dining room. The captain finally turned around to face them.

"It's impossible," he said, sounding entirely unconvinced.

"It is entirely possible," replied Susanna earnestly. "Alex told me about you, about his father. Alex knew that you were a sailor, a sailor named Alexander Whitfield, and he was given your name at birth."

"Alex ... Alexander Whitfield ..." murmured the captain as he breathed heavily.

Susanna wondered if the captain was picturing a child. A white child. "Alex's mother was a slave," she continued. "She was enslaved on a coffee plantation in Saint-Domingue."

Captain Whitfield's eyes snapped to Susanna's with a sudden steely gaze. "Saint-Domingue?" he repeated. "Haiti? Her name," he demanded. "Do you know her name?" His brow furrowed intensely.