Mutineer by J.A. Sutherland Read Free Book Online

alongside. She was too shocked by his sudden appearance and actions to protest, and could do nothing in any case. Though she was certain she could break his grip on her arm, he was still her superior officer, both in rank and in Hermione’s chain of command.
    Williard led her through the crowd and up several levels until he finally guided her into a small pub. Or, at least, she thought it was a pub until they entered and found a liveried servant waiting to greet them behind a podium of dark wood. The man raised an eyebrow at Alexis, then looked enquiringly at Williard.
    Williard tapped his tablet to the podium and the man glanced down.
    “Ah, Lord Atworth, a table for you and your guest?”
    “Perhaps,” Williard said. “But first someplace for a private conversation. The library?”
    “Of course, sir.” He stepped away from the podium and motioned them to follow him. “This way.”
    They followed him, Williard still not releasing his grip on her arm and she staring around in wonder. The narrow corridor they were walking through was lined in paneling with the distinctive purple swirl of varrenwood from her own home on Dalthus, and it appeared to be real. The cost of so much varrenwood , even were it a veneer, would be quite high.
    They left the corridor and entered a large room, large for the limited space of a station, in any case, with low lighting and groups of heavy, leather-covered chairs. The walls were lined with glass-fronted shelves and behind the glass were books. They look real – must be a fortune in antiques there.
    The man leading them stopped at a pair of chairs in the room’s corner and raised an eyebrow to Williard. “Refreshment, sir?”
    “No, thank you … yes, in fact, now I think on it.” Williard glanced at Alexis. “Scotch, two. Something decent.”
    “Of course, sir.”
    When he’d left, Williard shoved Alexis toward one of the chairs and sat himself in the other. The library was empty, save for them. Alexis looked around, fascinated.
    “Are you a fool, Carew?”
    She returned her gaze to Williard and found him staring at her.
    “I do not believe so, sir, no.”
    “Standing around the Port Admiral’s office as though you had some business there? You don’t find this quite a foolish thing?”
    “I …”
    “No, don’t tell me what you intended. I can quite imagine, but I don’t want to hear it. Were I to hear it, I might have to act.”
    Seems you’ve acted already, dragging me in here.
    “What is this place?”
    “Dorchester’s, it’s a gentleman’s club. No,” he said as her eyes widened, “not the sort the midshipmen speak of. It’s a club for actual gentlemen.”
    “And you are a gentleman?” Alexis asked, rubbing her arm where he’d gripped it.
    Williard had the good grace to look uncomfortable at that. “Lord Atworth, Baron, at present, through an accident of birth and the untimely death of my brother — Earl of Iota Talis, should I outlast my father.” He paused as a servant arrived with two glasses. “Thank you.” When they were alone again, Williard raised his glass and took a sip. “I will suggest to you a … hypothetical situation, Mister Carew. An entire phantasm of events, you understand?”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “Very well, then. Suppose an officer, a very junior officer — a sniveling snotty of a midshipman, perhaps — aboard a ship were to approach a far more senior member of Her Majesty’s Navy, a Port Admiral, for the sake of argument, about some … things which concerned him aboard ship. What do you suppose might happen, Mister Carew?”
    “I …”
    “She’d be bounced out on her arse and her impertinence reported to her captain, you naive, bloody fool!”
    Alexis stared at him in shock. “Sir, I …”
    “Do you not know how the Navy works, Carew? Well, I shall tell you. A captain is the representative of Her Majesty’s Government in space. Do you understand what that means? It means his actions are those of Her Majesty. There is a