And he was leveling the pistol on Gideon as if he itched to fire it. “What do you want with me? Is it gold you want?”
“There’s only one thing I want of you, and that’s Sara,” Gideon said bluntly, ignoring the pistol. “I want my fiancé. Either you take me to her, or I hold you and your ship captive until you do.”
“Or I could shoot you and your cursed pirates. Even now my men have yours under their guns and can pick them off at will if I command it.”
Gideon sneered at him. “Barnaby!” he shouted. “How fare the earl’s men and their guns?”
Barnaby and the other fifteen men emerged from behind the forward house, pushing a group of disarmed and disgruntled sailors ahead of them. “Oh, they fare quite well, Captain. As for their guns, let’s just say we’ve added to our arsenal substantially today.
I need to know—” he broke off, a vulnerable expression crossing his face. “That is, I want to know whom you intend to choose.
Sabrina JeffriesGideon went still. All his pleasure at having her there abruptly vanished.
His mother? Silas had told her about his mother?
That blasted old fool. When Gideon got his hands on him, he’d yank his beard out.
His eyes narrowed to menacing slits. “But that doesn’t mean that if you refuse my offer and stay, I’ll stand by and let you have her. I won’t. In the end you’ll lose, and you won’t even have the consolation of my gold.” He took his foot off the chair and leaned forward, planting his hands on the table as he eyed Petey with suspicion. “Why all the questions, Hargraves? You’d give up any hope of riches and adventure just to marry Miss Willis?”
“No, of course not,” Petey said hastily, before the pirate’s suspicions could be truly roused. “You can be sure I’d prefer this scepter and the chance to be off this island to Miss Willis any day.” He paused, weighing his words. “I just don’t understand why you don’t feel the same.”
Captain Horn drew himself up with the bearing of one of those nobles he so distained. “That’s none of your concern. Do you want the thing or not? Because if you don’t—” he broke off as he reached for the scepter.
Petey jerked it back. “I want it.” He wasn’t sure if he was playing this right, but it didn’t look as if he had any choice.
“I want it. I’ll be off your island tomorrow.”
For a moment, Petey could have sworn he saw relief in the captain’s face. Then the man’s expression hardened. “One more thing—you’re not to speak to her of any of this, you understand? You must promise to leave tomorrow without a word to her.
Why are you showing this to me?”
“It’s yours.” Petey snapped his head up to find that the pirate was no longer smiling. “I mean it. It’s yours. I have no use for it. What good is a scepter in paradise?”
Setting the scepter down carefully on the table, Petey eyed the pirate with suspicion. “And why would you be wantin’ to give it to me?”
“Can’t you guess? I want you to give up your claim to Miss Willis.
You know, Silas shouldn’t have something so indecent like this lying about,” Ann said. “One of the children might see it.” She brightened. “I know! We should put some clothes on it! That would make it all right, don’t you think?”
“Oh, by all means. Do clothe the woman,” Louisa said, laughter bubbling up from the back of her throat.
Ann flitted around the room looking for something appropriate. “Ah, this’ll be fine,” she said, her back to Louisa. She fooled with the thing a bit, then turned and held it up for Louisa’s approval.
It took Louisa a second to recognize what Ann had chosen to clothe the poor beleaguered fertility goddess in, but as soon as she did, she burst into laughter.
Silas’s drawers. Ann had clothed the carving in Silas’s dirty drawers.
After that, Louisa couldn’t stop laughing. Ann had tied the legs around the carving’s neck so that the back side of the unlaced drawers covered her front. It was truly a site to behold. And when Ann looked at her in all innocence, obviously unaware that the lady’s clothing was as indecent as the lady herself, Louisa laughed so hard her sides hurt.
“Louisa, are you alright?” Ann asked as she went to her friend’s side. “I swear, you’re behaving strange today. Really strange.”
Louisa couldn’t even speak. All she could do was laugh and point at the carving.
“This?” Ann asked as she held the carving up. “What’s wrong? Don’t you like her fine woolen dress?”
Louisa erupted in more peals of laughter.
Unfortunately, it was just at that moment, when Louisa was laughing herself to death and Ann was waving the carving about in the air, that Silas chose to make his untimely entrance.
“What are you females going in here?” his raspy male voice roared from the doorway, making them both jump.
Ann dropped the carving at once, watching as it rolled across the wooden floor, losing its exotic gown in the process.
Louisa managed to rein in her laughter, though a few chuckles still bubbled out of her.
“We wasn’t doin’ nothin’, truly,” Ann began to babble. “Louisa said . . . I mean . . . we thought . . .”
“It’s all right, Ann.” Louisa faced Silas, laughter still in her eyes. But when she saw his livid expression and reddened face, she sobered at once. “I’m sure Silas knows better than to blame you.”
“We was just tryin’ to help.” Bending to pick up the carving, Ann held it out to Silas. “Honestly, Mr. Dumm—”
Silas made a choking sound as he saw what Ann held in her hands. “Get out.” Snatching the carving from her, he tossed it across the room. “I said get out of here! Now!
That’s all she cared about—protecting her brother, who was probably some fop with a lame sword hand and a fear of pistols!
Sabrina JeffriesHetty was awakened from a doze in a chair by the sound of a door opening. She was about to make herself known to whoever had entered the library when someone else entered, too, and she heard Minerva say, “Well? What do you think? Am I right about Oliver and Miss Butterfield?”
Shrinking into the chair, she prayed she wouldn’t be noticed in the corner.
“It certainly looks that way.” It was Jarret’s voice. “He does seem to have genuine feelings for her. I’ve never witnessed him act like that over a woman. You should have seen him-ready to strike me when I suggested going after her myself.”
“What a brilliant touch!” Minerva cried. “I told you he liked her. And I’ll hazard a guess that she likes him, too. I went up to her room after they got back, and she blushed furiously when I asked if Oliver had behaved himself.”
“That’s the problem. Liking her is one thing, but whether he’ll act on the attraction honorably is another matter entirely. Oliver isn’t used to being around a woman he’s not allowed to…er…”
“Take to bed.”
Hetty blinked.
“My God, Minerva, don’t say things like that! You’re not supposed to know about such matters.”
“Pish posh. I could hardly grow up with a rogue for a father and three rogue brothers without hearing a few things.”
Hetty had to chomp on the inside of her cheek to stifle her laugh.
“Well, at least pretend you don’t know, will you?” Jarret grumbled. “One day you’ll say something like that in public and give me heart failure.
We have to find a way to push them together,” Minerva said. “You know perfectly well that if Oliver marries, Gran will forget this ridiculous idea of hers about the rest of us marrying. She just wants him to produce an heir”
Hetty’s eyebrows shot high. Her granddaughter had a big surprise coming down the road.
“And you’re willing to throw him under the wheels of the coach to save yourself, is that it?” Jarret quipped.
“No!” Her voice softened. “You and I both know he needs someone to drag him out of himself. Or he’s just going to get scarier as he gets older.” She paused. “Did you tell him about Miss Butterfield’s being an heiress?”
That certainly arrested Hetty’s attention. She hadn’t dreamed that the girl had money.
“Yes, but I fear that might have been a mistake-when I suggested that he marry her for her fortune, he got angry.”
Of course he got angry, you fool, Hetty thought with a roll of her eyes. Honestly, did her grandson know nothing about his brother?
“For goodness sake, Jarret, you weren’t supposed to suggest that. You were supposed to get him concerned that she might fall prey to fortune hunters.”
At least Minerva had a brain.
“Damn,” Jarret said. “Then I probably shouldn’t have exaggerated the amount.”
“Oh, Lord.” Minerva sighed. “By how much?”
“I kind of…tripled it.”
Minerva released an unladylike oath. “Why did you do that? Now he won’t go near her. Haven’t you noticed how much he hates talk of marrying for money?”
“Men say things like that, but in the end they’re practical.”
“Not Oliver! You’ve just ruined everything!”
“Don’t be so dramatic,” Jarret said. “Besides, I have a plan-I laid the seeds for it before I even left Oliver’s study. Come, let’s go talk to the others. It will take all of us working together.” His voice receded as the two of them apparently left the room. “If we merely…”
Hetty strained to hear, but she lost the thread of the conversation. Not that it mattered.
A smile tugged at her mouth. It appeared she would not have to carry off this match alone. All she need do was sit back and watch Jarret work on Oliver. In the meantime, she would let Minerva go on thinking that finding Oliver a wife would solve their dilemma. That would spur the girl to try harder.
In the end, it didn’t matter why or how they managed it, as long as they did. Thank God her grandchildren had inherited her capacity for scheming. It made her proud.
So Oliver thought he was going to get around her this time, did he? Well, he was in for a shock. This time he had more than just her to worry about. And with every one of the Sharpe children on Miss Butterfield’s side? She laughed.
Poor Oliver didn’t stand a chance.
You look like a goddess,” he murmured as he raked his eyes down her form.
And she melted into a puddle.
“Thank you.” She tried to sound cool and sophisticated. “I much prefer wearing a gown that’s not too tight.”
“Except where it should be.” He dropped his gaze pointedly to her bosom.
The frank admiration in his eyes made her glad that she’d let Betty guide her choice for tonight. After that other scandalous gown, she’d been reluctant to wear anything low cut, but this one did look beautiful on her, even with its décolletage. Salmon had always been a good color for her, and the satin rouleaux trim made her feel pretty and elegant.
“So it’s presentable enough for dinner with your family?” she asked.
“They don’t even deserve to see you in it.” The low rumble of his voice made her breath catch in her throat. “I only wish that you and I could-“
“You do look lovely,” said another voice. Lord Gabriel came up from behind Oliver, dressed all in black as usual. A look of pure mischief crossed his face. “Sorry I’m late, Miss Butterfield, but thank you, brother, for keeping her company until I arrived.”
Oliver glared at him. “What the devil do you mean?”
“I’m taking the young lady down to dinner.”
“That office should be left to her fiancé, don’t you think?” Oliver bit out.
“Pretend fiancé. You have no real claim on her. And since you had her to yourself all day…” Lord Gabriel offered his arm. “Shall we, Miss Butterfield?”
Maria hesitated, unsure what to do. But Oliver was a danger to her sanity, and his brother wasn’t. So she was better off with Lord Gabriel.
“Thank you, sir,” she said, taking his arm.
“Now just wait one blasted minute. You can’t-“
“What? Be friendly to our guest?” Lord Gabriel asked, his face a mask of innocence. “Really, old boy, I didn’t realize it mattered that much. But if it upsets you to see Miss Butterfield on the arm of another man, I’ll certainly yield the field.”
Lord Gabriel’s words seemed to give Oliver pause. Glancing from Maria to his brother, he smiled, though it didn’t nearly reach his eyes. “No, it’s fine,” he said tightly. “Perfectly fine.”
When they headed down the hall with Oliver following behind, Lord Gabriel flashed her a conspiratorial glance. She wasn’t sure what the conspiracy was, but since it seemed to irritate Oliver, she went along.
The incident was only the first in a series that continued throughout the week. Whenever she and Oliver found themselves alone, even for a moment, one of his siblings popped up to offer some entertainment-a stroll in the gardens, a ride into Ealing, a game of loo. With each instance, Oliver grew more annoyed, for no reason that she could see.
Unless…
No, that was crazy.
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