Schuyler frowned as he stared out the porthole at the Lady Sarah. “She’s a beautiful ship,” he said. His single eye flicked to Carlisle. He was as silent and unreadable as always. He sighed.

“What’s wrong, Master?” Carlisle asked, his voice low.

Shaking his head, Schuyler said, “I’m just not sure I’m doing the right thing. My parents won’t approve, I know that.”

Carlisle made a curious sound. “It’s unlike you to express self-doubt,” he said. “Do you want my opinion?”

Nodding, Schuyler said, “What do you think?”

“That you want to help people,” Carlisle said, “and, now, you will.”


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