The Devil's Necklace. Kat Martin

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ would be welcome at Humphrey Hall, of course. I’m sure a visit would be pleasant.” Pleasant, indeed, but little more. She thought of the great love between Romeo and Juliet and wondered if she would ever know such a love.

      The breeze picked up, tugging a strand of auburn hair loose from its pins and whipping it against her cheek. There was an icy chill in the air and beneath her fur-lined cloak, Grace couldn’t stop a shiver.

      “You’re cold,” Lord Collingwood said. “I think it is time we went in. Perhaps you would care to join me in the salon for a game of whist.”

      Why not? She had nothing better to do. “That would be lovely—” She broke off at the sound of men’s voices, members of the crew moving around the deck. Something seemed to be happening on the opposite side of the boat.

      The earl’s head came up. “Look! It appears another ship is approaching.”

      “Another ship?” A thread of worry slipped through her. They were at war, after all. A ship approaching in the dark ness might not bode well for the Lady Anne. She let Lord Collingwood lead her toward the bow so they might get a better view. “You don’t suppose the vessel is French?”

      “I heartily doubt it. We are sailing fairly close to the coast.” He glanced back the way they had come. “But per haps we should return to the salon.”

      Grace let him lead her in that direction though she didn’t really want to go. In the moonlight, she could see the white gleam of sails just off the port side of the ship. The vessel had nearly reached them and her worry crept up another notch.

      “Looks like a schooner,” the earl said.

      The ship was long and low to the water, its tall, twin masts rising majestically above the sea. The earl spotted the British flag flying at the rear of the sleek black craft at the same moment Grace did and she could hear his sigh of relief.

      “Nothing to fear after all. The ship is one of our own.”

      “Yes, so it would seem….” But thinking of the reason for her journey, her unease did not lessen.

      “I’m sorry to interrupt your voyage, Captain.” Ethan Sharpe stood at the rail, speaking to Colin Chambers, captain of the Lady Anne. “But I’ve come on a matter of importance concerning one of your passengers.”

      “You don’t say? What sort of matter are you talking about?”

      “One of the passengers aboard your ship is wanted for questioning in regard to a breach of national security. She’s to be returned to London immediately.”

      “She?”

      “I’m afraid the passenger is a woman.”

      He frowned. “And you say this woman is wanted by the authorities?”

      “I’m afraid so, yes.” Not exactly the truth. The government had never heard of Grace Chastain. Ethan was one of the few who knew the woman was responsible for the escape of the traitor, Harmon Jeffries, Viscount Forsythe, the man who had betrayed him to the French and cost him his ship and his crew.

      But his sources were completely reliable. The Chastain woman had hired someone in the underworld to arrange for two of the guards at Newgate to turn their backs while Jeffries escaped. According to his sources, Grace Chastain was the viscount’s mistress. She was the woman responsible for saving the man from the gallows.

      No, the government didn’t want her for questioning.

      Ethan did.

      He was determined to find Jeffries—and sooner or later he would. At present, Ethan believed the man was safely living a life of luxury and ease in France, but he needed to know for sure. Aside from that, until he found a way to re capture the man, someone had to pay for what the viscount had done.

      That someone would be Grace Chastain.

      “I’ll need to see your papers, Captain Sharpe,” Chambers said.

      “Of course.” He was prepared to cooperate as much as he reasonably could. He didn’t want trouble—he wanted the woman who had aided a traitor. He showed the man his charter as an English privateer, placing him in the service of his country. It seemed enough to satisfy the captain.

      “And the name of this passenger?” Chambers asked as they walked along the deck toward the salon.

      “Grace Chastain.”

      The captain stopped dead in his tracks. “There must be some mistake. Miss Chastain is a young woman of quality. She couldn’t possibly be involved in something as heinous as—”

      “Aiding the escape of a traitor? Freeing the man responsible for the loss of dozens of lives? That is among the questions that need to be answered. Now, Captain, if you would be so good as to take me to Miss Chastain, we will proceed with our business and you may be on your way.”

      The captain still looked doubtful.

      A few feet behind them, Angus McShane rested a thick hand on the grip of the pistol stuffed into his wide leather belt. Ethan made a faint movement of his head, telling Angus to signal the boarding party to be ready. Grace Chastain was leaving the Lady Anne—one way or another.

      “This way, Captain Sharpe, if you please. Let us see what the lady has to say.”

      Following the captain, Ethan made his way down the ladder to the main salon. Passengers sat in their opulent surroundings, three of them perched on a tapestry sofa, two of them seated in front of an ivory chessboard. Others read or played cards. A man rose as the captain approached the gaming table.

      “What is it, Captain?”

      “Naught that involves you, my lord. This is Captain Ethan Sharpe of the Sea Devil. Apparently the captain re quires a word with Miss Chastain.”

      For the first time, Ethan focused on the woman seated at the gaming table, a fan of cards spread open in a slender hand. He had expected the woman to be attractive. She was, after all, the paid companion of a wealthy man.

      But Grace Chastain was far beyond pretty. She was stunningly beautiful, with jewel-green eyes and skin like day-old cream. Her hair was auburn, dark copper streaked with gold, and even in her demure silk gown, a hint of full bosom rose enticingly above the modest neckline.

      She was younger than he had imagined, or at least appeared so, yet certainly no girl just out of the schoolroom. Still, she didn’t carry the usual world-weary look of a seasoned whore.

      No, Grace Chastain was beautiful and feminine, pale now as she rose to her feet, a tall, slenderly built young woman who, under different circumstances, he would have found incredibly attractive.

      Instead, all he felt for her was loathing.

      “Might we step outside, Miss Chastain?” Ethan asked, forcing a polite note into his voice, his faint bow only slightly mocking.

      “May I ask what this is about, Captain Sharpe?” she asked.

      He glanced at the tall aristocrat across from her ready to come to her defense. “As I said, I believe this СКАЧАТЬ