Regency High Society Vol 2: Sparhawk's Lady / The Earl's Intended Wife / Lord Calthorpe's Promise / The Society Catch. Miranda Jarrett

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СКАЧАТЬ where he’d held her before she self-consciously began to smooth the crease from her sleeve instead. “I won’t tell you a word about your friend until you tell me everything you can about Hamil Al-Ameer.”

      There, she’d done it, and there’d be no taking back the words now. She’d expected him to rail more at her before he answered, even call her names, the way Jack had warned her. But she wasn’t prepared for what she saw now.

      “Hamil,” he said, his voice as hollow as his eyes. He seemed to age before her, his broad shoulders bowing down beneath the weight of his grief and pain. “What would a fine lady like you want to know about a thieving bastard like him?”

      She remembered how he’d been last night when he’d jerked awake from the nightmare, the wild, haunted look that had followed the anguished cry of pain and terror. What could have happened to reduce a man like Jeremiah Sparhawk to that?

      “Pray forgive me, Captain,” she began, “for I didn’t mean to upset—”

      He drew himself up sharply. “No pity, ma’am. I’d rather be scorned than pitied.”

      “I don’t intend to do either. I wouldn’t ask you of this man Hamil if my reasons weren’t most urgent.”

      “Then you’ll understand if I prefer to keep my past to myself,” he said wearily. He wasn’t angry anymore, just tired. “David Kerr is dead, and so is every other man who served with me on the Chanticleer. I don’t know what Herendon told you, but I won’t dishonor the memories of Davy and the rest by speaking their names in the same breath as that heathen bastard Hamil.”

      “You would rather retain your stubborn sense of honor and propriety than hear in return what I have to say of Mr. Kerr?”

      He sighed. “Honor or no, ma’am, I’m not in the habit of making bargains with ladies. Good day, Lady Byfield.”

      “No, wait, I beg you!” she cried, rushing after him. “This isn’t a bargain that I ask of you, only an exchange of information, a way we might help each other!”

      Though her desperation was unmistakable, he refused to be swayed. “If you’re like every other woman on this earth, you’d merely tell me what you believed I wished to hear, whether it was true or not.”

      “No!” Frantically she rushed back to the little table beside her chair, yanking the drawer in it out so forcefully that the vase of yellow flowers toppled over. She pawed through the papers until she found the one she sought, then held it up to read, her fingers trembling and her voice shaking.

      ‘’ ‘Kerr, David, mariner, first mate, surviving of the brig Chanticleer, of the city of Providence of Rhode Island in the United American States. Of medium height, not above five and one-half feet, in age thirty-seven years, fair complected with brown hair, both ears pierced for the wearing of rings. Marked by a crooked left arm, broke long ago and ill-set, a star-shaped powder burn on the upper right back shoulder—”

      “Let me see that!” Jeremiah lunged to tear the paper from her hands but she darted clear.

      “You didn’t believe me, did you?” she said breathlessly, dancing just beyond his reach. “You wouldn’t trust me because I’m only a silly, ignorant woman, because I couldn’t possibly feel the same loyalty as a man for those I love!”

      His green eyes were as wild as a madman’s as he shoved a chair aside to try to reach her. “What the devil is it, anyway? God help you if you lie!”

      “The messengers of the Pasha of Tripoli do not lie, Captain Sparhawk, not when there is ransom to be earned from prisoners!” she cried, bunching her skirts in her fist as she ran from him. “From Naples this comes, from King Ferdinand’s own secretary, but I won’t read another word unless—”

      She hadn’t heard the knock at the door, and turned with a hiss when Weldon entered the room himself. She froze beneath the butler’s scrutiny, as did Jeremiah, both panting and flushed amid the overturned furniture. The only other sound was the slow drip of water from the upset vase onto the carpet.

      Weldon’s expression remained unperturbed. “My lady needs assistance?”

      Caro pressed her palm to her forehead. “No, Weldon, I do not, nor do I appreciate your entering this room unannounced!”

      “My apologies, my lady, but I did knock. I did not realize you were engaged.” He looked pointedly at Jeremiah. “But Mr. Stanhope has arrived, and demands a word with you at once.”

      “Damn Mr. Stanhope! Tell him I’ve no wish to see him, that I’m not at home, or better yet, tell him to go—to go straight to Hades!”

      Weldon nodded. “Very well, my lady.”

      “Oh, Weldon, stop being so provokingly literal! Of course I’ll come and speak with him, but only as far as the door. I won’t have the wretched man in my house, acting like it’s already his.”

      “Nay, ma’am, you’ll do no such thing,” ordered Jeremiah. “I won’t have you running off like a frightened chicken until we’ve settled this between us!”

      “I’m not running, Captain, you can be sure of that, not until you reconsider your own position.” Her face still flushed, she glared at him, folded into quarters the paper she’d read from and shoved it down the front of her gown. “You wait here. I shall return directly.”

      As the door shut behind her and the butler, Jeremiah struggled to control his frustration, and failed. Over went another chair, followed by the needlepoint-covered footstool he heaved across the room. Damn the woman! Either she did have news, real news, of Davy, or else she was the most convincing liar he’d ever met. He thought of how she’d toyed with him, teasing him along with stolen kisses and contrived robberies and statues of naked women, when here she’d been keeping a secret he’d kill to have. Davy alive, Davy a prisoner. Sweet Jesus, could it really be true?

      With an oath he jerked the drawer from the table where she’d taken the first paper and dumped the contents onto the sofa. Receipts from dressmakers, half-finished letters dated months ago, a sheet of music to a love ballad. He scanned them all and found nothing more from Naples.

      Double damn the woman! Jeremiah sank heavily into an armchair, his head in his hands. He’d known David Kerr since they’d been boys, one of only a handful of men he’d call friend. They’d sailed together, sought whores together, fought together. He’d stood up with Davy when his friend had wed Sarah Wright, and he was godfather to their oldest boy. Of course he intended to call on all the widows and orphans left by his crew as soon as he returned to Providence, a grim, heartbreaking responsibility for a captain, but telling Sarah would have been the hardest of all. And now, perhaps, he wouldn’t have to do it. But what did Caro Moncrief expect from him in return, and what did it have to do with Hamil?

      The ormolu clock on the mantel chimed three times. Jeremiah sighed impatiently. The countess had been gone nearly an hour, far longer than she’d indicated. He rose and walked to the window, pushing back the heavy curtains with two fingers as he looked toward the driveway.

      Before a hired carriage parked at the base of the steps stood Caro and a man. Though Jeremiah was too far away to hear them, it was obvious they were arguing, Caro waving her hands in short, angry motions to emphasize her words. Abruptly the man turned to speak to the driver on the box, and Jeremiah recognized him as George from the night before, the man he’d guessed was the СКАЧАТЬ