stiffen in his breeches in a way it had no business doing. She was a bloody Englishwoman, for the love of Christ. He’d told himself he’d only stayed with her to ensure she was fine after that terrible fall down the stairs several hours before—after all, what good was a hostage that one had taken for ransom if that hostage were dead?
He received the salute of Lieutenant Morgan, who had the deck.
“How is the lady, sir?”
“Quite recovered, and just like the rest of her kind, thinks I’m nothin’ but a bug under her damned shoe. We’ll be well rid of her once we get that explosive.” He looked at Morgan. The lines of strain around his mouth and the smell of ginger did not escape him. He knew all about his lieutenant’s queasy stomach. His voice gentled. “Go below and get some rest, John. I’ll take over from here.”
“Aye, sir.”
Morgan gave his salute and melted off into the darkness, leaving him alone with his thoughts.
Imagine. He, a captain in the Continental Navy now, enjoying a status that once, a long time ago, he would never have even dared to dream about. But that had been before his brother-in-law Christian, had outsmarted him back in ’75 and taught him a thing or two about humility.
Before the duel.
Before Josiah.
Before Dolores Ann.
The brig moved easily beneath him as though sharing his thoughts, his memories, and far off in the night he could imagine he saw the distant coast of Ireland.
“Delight.”
There. He’d said it. Her name.
And there was nothing but the sound of the waves to repeat it back to him.
He turned from the rail.
Some memories were better left alone.
Chapter 4
Blackheath Castle, Berkshire, England
Late the following morning…
Many miles away, in one of the most majestic and important homes in England, the sixth duke of Blackheath had just sat down to breakfast with his duchess, Eva, when a footman approached the table with a message for His Grace:
My dear brother,
I have urgent and distressing news. Tonight, while entertaining the Royal Navy with a display of my explosive (as you had advised), Nerissa went missing from Captain Lord’s townhouse. I am turning London upside down in my attempts to locate her and have enlisted the assistance of everyone I can find, but at this point I am at a loss as to what has happened to her or where she could be. Needless to say, I fear the worst. Please come to the City immediately.
— Andrew
Lucien felt the blood drain from his face.
Eva was instantly alert and on her feet, already coming to his side. “What is it, Lucien?”
He waved the footman away and passed the message to his duchess, already throwing his napkin down and pushing back his plate. “I must go to London. Immediately.”
Eva hastily scanned the short message, then hurried after him as he stalked purposely from the room, already calling for his valet.
“I’ll go with you.”
“No, please. I would rather you stayed here with little Augustus. He’ll need his mother, and I won’t subject him to travel or the hot stinking pit that is London in the summertime any more than Andrew wished to subject Celsie or little Laura to it,” he said, referring to Andrew’s baby daughter. “I know you mean well, Eva, and at any other time I’d want you with me, but not this one.”
She followed him down the corridor. Phelps, his valet, was already there, not blinking an eye as his master ordered traveling clothes laid out, luggage packed and the ducal coach to be readied. “Please, Lucien, try not to worry. We both know she’s not been the same after…after Perry. She still grieves him. Maybe she ran off to try and call on him. Maybe she had a disagreement with Andrew. It could be any number of things. You’ll find her.”
Lucien said nothing. His wife was only trying to assuage his sudden fear, as all loved ones do when bad news hits. She was making excuses, offering rational explanations for Nerissa’s disappearance when really, there
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