Beautiful Tempest Page 3

  Jacqueline was waiting so tensely to hear something from inside the room that she was startled when her brother Jeremy squatted down beside her, whispering, “I should have known I’d find you here first.”

  She just put her finger to her lips as she scowled at him for finding her hiding spot. But he still asked, “What’d I miss?”

  “Nothing yet,” she hissed, though she glanced quickly beyond her brother to make sure Percival Alden hadn’t tagged along with him. Percy was a long-standing friend of the family who could be depended on to do one thing—blunder. And in this case, that would be alerting her father to their eavesdropping outside the window.

  “You heard from Drew?” Warren said inside the study.

  “It’s not encouraging,” James answered. “Read it for yourself.”

  Warren must have picked up Drew’s letter because he quickly pointed out, “Says here it’s not the pirate you and Drew suspected, that Pierre Lacross is still in prison on Anguilla.”

  “Read the next part,” James prompted.

  Boyd proved he was standing next to his brother and reading the letter at the same time when he said, “So the warden of that prison seemed a little nervous to Drew at the mention of Lacross? That’s actually understandable for a man living behind stone walls with hundreds of convicted criminals, don’t you think?”

  “I do,” James agreed. “It’s the part about the warden refusing to allow your brother to see Lacross for himself. Drew is the only one of you who would recognize Pierre Lacross if he saw him because he was with me when I captured Lacross.”

  “The warden could have denied Drew’s request for any number of reasons,” Warren put in. “Knowing Drew, he’s just annoyed that he couldn’t talk his way around that warden.”

  Boyd added, “And that could mainly be because it’s a British prison and Drew’s American origins become obvious the moment he opens his mouth.”

  Anthony chuckled. “Now that’s the more likely reason when Englishmen tend not to be cooperative with you Yanks even on a good day.”

  “We’re not antagonizing them, Tony,” James warned his brother. “Keep your annoyance with me on me, not on them.”

  “Then what am I even doing here?”

  “I thought you might want to be included, in case you change your mind and decide to sail with me.”

  “Not bloody likely, old boy. I’m staying close to home in case Judy changes her mind about that bounder Tremayne and returns home, needing a father’s shoulder to cry on. You can tell me all the gory details when you get back to England.”

  “Then you might as well return to the party,” James suggested.

  “Didn’t say I wasn’t interested,” Anthony grumbled.

  Warren said, “Well, even if we still don’t know who we’re looking for, I’m game to leave now. I’ve been landlocked far too long. And we can investigate more once we get to the West Indies.”

  James said, “If Drew and I didn’t both suspect Lacross is responsible for Jack’s abduction, I wouldn’t have given him this much time to try to confirm it. Drew checked Pierre’s old fortress island. It was deserted, but there were signs of recent occupation. And he wasted weeks trying to find out who had been there recently and where they went, which is why we didn’t hear from him before now.”

  “But if Lacross is still in prison, what did Drew even hope to find there?” Boyd asked.

  “Not all of that pirate’s men were captured the night we defeated him. But in any case, I should have been on my way back there long before now, considering that when I retired from the sea, I left more’n one enemy behind in the Caribbean. Drew wouldn’t know them if he met them. I need to talk to them myself to determine if any of them hatched this plot. Drew doesn’t know who to question to get answers that might be helpful, whereas I—”

  “Get answers by any means,” Warren said, then added abashed, “That was a compliment, James, not a slur.”

  Anthony chuckled. “You’re taking all the fun out of this, Yank.” But then he said to his brother, “No need to fry me, old boy. You might have upped your truce with them a notch for the duration of this mission, but I haven’t.”

  James ignored that remark, saying, “I would have left sooner if my darling Jack hadn’t kept this from me. She found it on the ship that sailed off with her from Bridgeport. Her abductor, the ship’s captain, insisted on sending us a more polite version of the original ransom note.”

  “A polite kidnapper?” Boyd said in surprise.

  Warren snorted. “What kind of pirate writes a polite note?”

  Anthony read it aloud: “ ‘Your life for hers. Sound familiar? You know the place. Do hurry, mon ami.’ ”

  James explained, “Jack made a copy of this more goading note penned by her abductor’s boss before she forgot the exact words.”

  “Yet she kept it a secret from you all this time?” Anthony asked. “Why?”

  “She was afraid I would be walking into a trap if I returned to the Caribbean too soon, that they would be expecting me. The writer, who she knows is Catherine Meyer’s father, obviously thought I would know exactly who he was by those otherwise cryptic words.”

  “Do you?”

  “Yes, except he’s still in prison.”

  Warren said, “Lacross again?”

  “Now wait,” Boyd put in. “You can’t assume the man is French just because of that mon ami. I’m not all that familiar with the French language, but doesn’t that particular phrase mean ‘my friend’?”

  “Sarcasm at its best,” James replied. “That note implies he wanted me to know exactly who was orchestrating my demise without providing proof that could be used in a court of law. And that, more’n anything else, sounds like Lacross. I also wouldn’t be surprised if Lacross has a daughter who’s a jewel thief and as clever as a fox, that shrew Catherine Meyer, who our fake distant relative Andrássy brought aboard The Maiden George.”

  “Does she resemble Lacross?” Warren asked.

  “Not closely enough for me to conclude that she’s his daughter,” James admitted. “But she could be doing Lacross’s dirty work. Either the warden in Anguilla lied to Drew, or Lacross is pulling strings from inside that prison. The point of this entire plan could have been to hand-deliver me to that prison and right into his cell.”

  “Not possible,” Boyd disagreed. “I thought you nobles never got locked up for anything.”

  “That’s usually the case,” James said. “But Captain Hawke would be.”

  “Captain Hawke died in England. I could have sworn you made sure of it.”

  “I did,” James said. “But news of Hawke’s demise might not have reached all the islands in the Caribbean, where warrants for Hawke’s capture could still be active. And I’ve been back there and someone who knew me as Captain Hawke might have spotted me. More to the point, Lacross saw me when I helped Drew rescue Gabby and Lacross was captured, so he knows I’m not dead. What I can’t figure out is how Lacross or whoever is behind this plot figured out that Hawke is James Malory. I went to great lengths to keep Hawke’s true identity a secret.”

  Warren groaned. “Are we going to have to attack a British prison?”

  “No—well, I hope not,” James replied. “I do need to have a talk with that warden, though. However, I can also think of two other men who might have said something similar to what’s in that original note. So many questions remain. Nothing is conclusive other than I’m sailing the morning after that damned masquerade ball I got browbeaten into attending.”

  Boyd chuckled, guessing, “Georgie at her finest, eh?”

  “On the contrary. I just bloody well hate balls. My George, however, can be enjoyably persuasive.”

  “Oh, God, he didn’t just imply—?” Warren started to complain.

  Anthony cut in with a snicker. “Course he did, Yank.”

  Outside, Jeremy helped Jacqueline to her feet to escort her back inside the house, complaining, “I should have been in that room, but he’s refu
sed to let me participate.”

  “You think I didn’t try? He’s adamant that neither of us can go.”

  Jeremy snorted. “I understand why you’re being excluded, but I lived in the islands and know the Caribbean like the back of my hand. I would be a real asset and he knows it.”

  “Let’s try not to insult me, Brother,” Jack said drily. “You or I would make a perfect hostage that could stay his hand in a battle with his nemesis. So we need to bow out even if we don’t like it.”

  “You do, but I still have time to change his mind. When is that ball that he referred to?”

  Jacqueline rolled her eyes. Jeremy wasn’t going to win that argument with their father any more than she had. But still smarting over her own exclusion, she wasn’t about to stay there and try to convince him. She had to find Gabby and get her to tell her everything she knew about the pirate Pierre Lacross.

  Chapter Four

  YOU DON’T SEEM AT all upset that Father will be sailing in the morning without either of us,” Jacqueline said to her mother as she looked at herself in the full-length mirror in her bedroom.

  “I do hide it well, don’t I? Though I have every confidence that he will return from the Caribbean triumphant so we can put this nasty business behind us, that doesn’t mean I’m not going to worry every moment that he’s gone.”

  “And miss him.”

  “Of course I will, terribly. And I know you will, too. And, no, you’re not going to mention again that you’d rather be sailing off with him in the morning instead of staying behind with me.”

  Jacqueline grinned. “I wasn’t going to. I know bloody well when I’m outnumbered in the argument, even though I’m more deserving of an opportunity to exact revenge than—”

  “Jack,” Georgina cut in warningly.

  “That just slipped out, really, it did.”

  Georgina tsked. “At least the rest of the Season will be a distraction for you and me.”

  Jack hoped that would be the case. She just wished she could be distracted sooner, say tonight, from her father’s departure. At least with her wearing a black wig and a domino no one was going to be able to tell that she was also experiencing emotions—of the vexing sort. Not when on the surface she looked vivacious. And truly, she couldn’t deny she was quite excited about the evening’s festivities. For once she wouldn’t know whom she was dancing with. She loved harmless little mysteries of that sort.

  They were both already dressed for the ball tonight. Georgina had surprised Jacqueline with a new emerald necklace to match her pale green ball gown, which she fastened behind Jack’s neck.

  “Now, come along. Your father is no doubt anxious to get this over with! He’s waiting downstairs with Brandon.”

  “Brandon? When he said he wouldn’t come!”

  “He told us you insisted, and we all know that meant you browbeat the dear boy mercilessly.”

  Jack grinned. “Well, only a little. But a masquerade is the perfect opportunity for him to sneak in for a little fun without being announced as the Duke of Wrighton at the door. I had to try to convince him after he said he’s not planning on joining any Season. He doesn’t know what he’ll be missing, but after tonight he will, so maybe he’ll change his mind.”

  “I wouldn’t count on that. Brandon takes his consequence quite seriously, more’s the pity, but then you know how I feel about titles. You need to recall that he’s the first duke in this family, and his parents have raised him as such. And you aren’t to interfere, Jack, not even a little. I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if his future wife is picked for him. She will need to have impeccable credentials.”

  Jacqueline snorted. “Doom and gloom. You’re forgetting he’s also a Malory.”

  Georgina raised a brow. “And Malorys tend to get what they want?”

  “Exactly.”

  “I CAN’T BELIEVE HE’S actually dancing.”

  As Jacqueline danced with Brandon, she followed his gaze and laughed when her parents twirled past them on the dance floor. “I can. Mother entered with you and me, but my father was a few couples behind us in the line, so no one will guess it’s him even if they were able to guess it’s me. This black wig I’m wearing and the domino were supposed to keep my identity a secret.”

  “They didn’t.”

  “I know that,” she complained. “I am quite annoyed that Bernard Morton’s rushing over to me for the first dance alerted the others that he’d found me out. How the bloody hell he did, he wouldn’t admit. If he bribed my maid to find out the color of my gown tonight, I’m going to fire her as soon as I get home.”

  “No, you won’t, when he could have likely bribed your seamstress or posted a man near your house to race the particulars to him. But it hardly matters, Cousin. Certainly not worth firing a loyal—”

  “Disloyal.”

  “—servant.”

  “I suppose, though it has quite ruined the masquerade for me, when the delightful point of it was not to be recognized. It’s just any old ball, now.”

  He chuckled. “I thought you loved balls?”

  “I do, that’s why I’m only grumbling, not snarling.”

  “Good point,” he said drily.

  She grinned up at him. She was glad he’d come to the ball. With his mask, no one was going to guess that he was only seventeen or find out that the Duke of Wrighton was in attendance.

  “As for my father,” she said, “while he most certainly does hate to dance, he loves pleasing my mother more, and she enjoys dancing. What about you? Well, you must. You’ve had six partners in a row before I could get you on the floor m’self, and I had to almost run to grab you before you were asking someone else!”

  “I do indeed like it, but it’s not so much the dancing as the—touching.”

  She chuckled. “A light touch on the waist excites you, does it?”

  She knew she’d just made him blush under his half mask, which covered his cheeks but not his mouth. Sometimes she spoke without thinking first—well, most times she did that—but she hadn’t meant to embarrass her cousin, who had probably never had a chance to interact with a young woman his age other than relatives because his parents kept him so cloistered. A seventeen-year-old might well be quite touchy, too, about his relations with the opposite sex, and she should have known better than to tease about his sexual prowess or his lack thereof.

  So she jumped back in with “Don’t answer! I put my foot in my mouth quite often, as you well know. Instead, tell me what you think of your first foray into the world of debutantes? Is it what you expected? Or perhaps it’s difficult to form an opinion when everyone is hiding their faces?”

  “Personalities aren’t hidden, nor are their delightful—gowns.”

  Jack burst out laughing. What an amusing way to refer to shapely feminine bodies! She knew he wasn’t embarrassed anymore because he’d said it in an exaggeratedly prudish tone.

  “Has anyone piqued your interest yet?”

  “Indeed. I’m already in love, with her, and her, oh, and her, too.”

  He’d just pointed to three different debutantes, one dancing, the other two giggling as they gazed in his direction. Jack rolled her eyes. She might even have thought he was teasing if it were anyone other than Brandon.

  So all she said was “You sound like our cousin Jaime. She fancies herself in love with a different man every few months. Please tell me you know the difference between infatuation and love, the abiding sort, the knock-you-on-your-arse sort.”

  “D’you? Or are you so determined not to find it this year that it could smack you on the head and you’d ignore it?”

  “Well, since that wasn’t a serious question, I can say I know bloody well that attraction ain’t it, because I was utterly attracted to Bastard while I hated every bone in his damned body.”

  “Then rest assured that I also know the difference, Jack, so I’ll let you have your leg back now.”

  She laughed. “You’re usually so serious. When did you start pulling legs
?”

  “Since I discovered how gullible my sister is. She’s still carrying on about Judy’s marrying a ghost!”

  Chapter Five

  WHEN THE DANCE ENDED, Brandon quickly returned Jacqueline to her parents before he hurried off to find another partner. Jacqueline didn’t mind since she’d intended to join them herself. Her father, for the first time standing with his wife instead of on the sidelines, made an exceptional shield, and Jack wanted that shield for a moment, so she inserted herself between them.

  Since her decision to join her parents so deviated from her request that her father not frighten off her beaus before she got to know them, James immediately asked, “Who has annoyed you?”

  “They appear to know exactly who I am tonight,” Jack complained, then grinned. “And now they know exactly who you are, despite your mask, because they saw me enter with Mother, and now you’re standing with her when you haven’t done that at any of the other parties we attended. They always ask if you’re present, you know. And I always lie and assure them that you aren’t. Shall we see how brave they are now?”

  “If you want a respite, m’dear, we can adjourn to the terrace,” Georgina suggested.

  “No, I really do want to see how brave they are.”

  James said nothing to that. Georgina just tsked. That her father’s notoriety was still as powerful as ever had never been in question. Because he refused to socialize with anyone outside the family, the ton still didn’t know him and rumors about him still abounded. That he and his brother Anthony still occasionally visited Knighton’s Hall for brutal exercise in the boxing ring didn’t help put to rest those rumors of how deadly James could be. Young rakehells relished those matches, which gave them something unpredictable to wager on, but less daring young lords didn’t want to get anywhere near James Malory, even if they were in love with his daughter.

  The music started again, but the level of chatter got louder for a different reason. Word of James’s possible presence was spreading through the ballroom and causing quite a stir. And Jacqueline knew it was her fault for joining them while he was still with her mother, drawing every eye to him, just because she was annoyed with her suitors for knowing who she was and telling her who they were. Utterly childish bit of pique that she now regretted.