The Pirate Next Door by Jennifer Ashley Read Free Book Online

your sight, we’d know soon enough.”
    “I see.” Grayson still kept his voice quiet, amazed at his own self-control when he really wanted to twist Henderson in half. “You volunteered?”
    Henderson let a wry smile touch his lips. “Not so much volunteered as was pressed into service. But I swear to you, my oath on it, that I had no idea she was a—a lady.”
    Grayson let his voice grow icy. “Have a care, Henderson. What did you think she was?”
    Henderson shrugged nervously. “Well, you know—a merry widow. Or a high-flyer. She ran to you, didn’t she? What other kind of woman would?”
    Grayson kept a rein on his temper, but he felt his control leaking away. In a moment, he’d leap on Henderson and let the Majestic live with having to scrape lieutenant out of the carpet. “She was saving my life, as a matter of fact.”
    Henderson nervously adjusted his spectacles. “I promise you, I had no idea until I was right next to her. Until I—” He broke off. “And then I realized that Ardmore had made a grave mistake.” He hesitated, his eyes concerned. “Is she all right?”
    “What the hell do you think?”
    Henderson eyed him uncertainly. Grayson was uncertain himself where his anger came from. Not just anger, but raw, consuming rage. She was not his. She was a lady, one who had never learned to kiss. Her soft, innocent lips had fluttered against his, curious, unpracticed. Andyet, she’d been married. Her husband must have been a first-rate idiot.
    “Know this, Henderson. If you touch her again—if anyone touches her again—I will consider myself free to avenge her honor. On anyone who dares go near her. Tell Ardmore that this includes him. Do you understand?”
    Henderson’s face was paper white. “Oh, I understand. I cannot guarantee anything about my captain.”
    Grayson’s rage churned. He wanted to slam Henderson to the ground and stamp up and down on him. Rip his suit to ribbons and grind his boot heel into that pristine cravat. All for kissing the pretty lady next door who had looked at him in amazement when he’d suggested she sleep without clothes.
    She had done it. He’d seen that in her rosy blush when he’d regarded her in her drawing room. She’d been surrounded by middle-aged ladies watching him with bright birdlike eyes, but he had seen only her. She had slept bare for him, and it had embarrassed her. And excited her.
    Which excited him. Damn Henderson. His action had made Grayson realize just what would happen if he followed up on his impulses to make her his. Ardmore would think her fair game. Thus complicating the already complicated mess that was Grayson’s life.
    Murdering Henderson might make him feel better, but Grayson was not foolish enough to think that Ardmore would not retaliate. Jacobs for Henderson, Oliver for O’Malley, perhaps. The vendetta would never end. And Grayson knew that Henderson was a only pawn in Ardmore’s games, as were O’Malley, Maggie, and even Grayson himself.
    Containing his murderous impulses, he gave Jacobs a nod, turned his back, and started to go.
    Henderson’s parting shot followed them. “I think you know, Finley, that you’ve just told me everything Ardmore hoped to learn.”
    The callers had gone several hours before. Alexandra retreated to her first-floor sitting room, her emotions jumbled. She was to have attended the theatre with Lady Featherstone that evening, but she had begged off before the lady departed. Lady Featherstone offered to stay, but Alexandra had sent her anxious friend away. Alice would bring her a cup of tea, she said, and all would be well.
    Alice had brought a cup of tea, one liberally laced with brandy. Alexandra now decided she should not have drunk any. Her head felt light and spun slightly. She stared accusingly at the half-full cup near her elbow at the writing table. Her thoughts whirled and leapt, settling on nothing. She reran the string of events several times, seeing again the bespectacled man