To Phoebe’s shock, her rescuer then knelt down and searched the unconscious man’s pockets, removing what little money he had. Just as she was about to squeal in fright at the theft, the pirate stretched an arm toward her. For a long moment, she simply stared at his upraised palm, which was golden and callused, before realizing that he was offering her Darlington’s coin. Then she took the funds with shaking fingers, knowing she ought to be afraid of this man who had made such short work of her companion, but too relieved and excited to think sensibly. Besides, there was something oddly familiar about him…
As if sensing the same thing himself, her savior stood and stepped toward her, a curious look on his handsome face, and when his blue eyes met hers, she saw shock and recognition so powerful they stunned her.
“Phoebe!” he cried.
In that instant, she, too, knew him, but before she could even utter his name, this great sun-bronzed pirate of a man wrapped his strong arms around her waist, lifted her against his chest as if she weighed nothing and kissed her with a fierce passion that marked her as his own…now and forever. It was like nothing she had ever known before—from him or anyone else—and it left her thoroughly dazed.
“James,” she whispered weakly.
Chapter Seventeen
Sebastian sullenly watched Prudence pick at her food and felt like strangling that foolish sister of hers. Leave it to Phoebe, the selfish chit, to ruin her sister’s visit to Wolfinger and alienate what little family the girls had. Of course, Cousin Hugh wasn’t much, as relations went, and Sebastian had to admit he was glad they had finally managed to get rid of the fellow. He shuddered to think of the kind of life his passionate little authoress would have had, wedded to that rigid bore.
Speaking of marriage…Sebastian slanted another look across the table at his companion. He knew she was worried about Phoebe, but he still felt the prick of pique. He had never proposed to a woman in his life, so, naturally, he had hoped for a little bit more enthusiasm than Prudence had evinced so far, which was precious little. In fact, she had failed to comment at all.
Sebastian would have suspected that in the heat of her argument with Hugh she might have missed the implication of his words. But he could not even take solace in that excuse, for after he announced their betrothal, Hugh had turned to Prudence for corroboration. “Is this true?” he had asked, red-faced and sputtering.
Prudence had blinked once and then calmly replied, “Yes, of course it is true.” Thankfully, that had been the end of Hugh, but nothing further had been said about their upcoming nuptials. Had she even accepted his suit, or had she only feigned agreement to get rid of her cousin? Sebastian found himself fretting like a boy at his first dance.
And he did not like fretting. It was foreign and weak and irksome. Frowning, Sebastian studied his alleged fiancée from across the table. Damn it, he knew that Prudence cared for him! Otherwise, she most certainly would not be here in his home, making love to him, with astounding zeal and to the detriment of her own reputation. And yet…She had never really discussed her feelings, Sebastian realized with something that bore an annoying resemblance to fretting.
By God, he was acting the fool! He speared his fork forcefully into the overcooked beef on his plate. He had listened to countless protestations of love from female lips over the years, knowing full well that the words were as meaningless as the sex that followed. This time, he would just have to go with his gut instinct and ignore the niggling need to hear such nonsense. After all, he was not about to start spouting it himself, was he? Was he? Sebastian decided to ignore the odd feeling that attended that query. “Eat, Pru,” he ordered suddenly, in an effort to distract himself.
She looked across at him as if she had forgotten his presence, her normally bright hazel eyes bleak and dull. “Oh, Sebastian, I hold out no hope that they are in Mullion, and then what shall we do? They could be anywhere!”
“We shall find them, Pru,” Sebastian replied. “I am surprised at your lack of faith in our skills. Did you not find the only clue to James’s disappearance, when a professional Bow Street Runner could not?”
Prudence nodded, without any of her normal confidence, and smiled, so weakly that it tore at his insides. “But I am not worried about James,” she argued. “I am certain he can take care of himself, while Phoebe…Poor little Phoebe cannot. Oh, I should never have left her there alone! It is all my fault!”
Sebastian could listen to her flay herself no longer. “Damn it, Pru!” he shouted, tossing down his napkin. “You are not to blame for what your sister has done! Whether you like it or no, Phoebe was a spoiled, heedless creature, who thought of none but herself. The ton is riddled with her like—minxes who give no care as to what effects their actions will bring about. If she was determined, nothing you could have done would have stopped her.”
He stalked across the room. “You think I haven’t beaten myself up over James’s disappearance? I told myself that if only I had treated him differently or had not chased after him, he would still be here, alive and well. If, if, if! Regrets are a waste of time, Pru, and in the end, I find that he tangled with smugglers, hardly something I could have prevented.”
He bent over, taking her hands in his own, as if he could infuse life into her by his very touch. But hadn’t she claimed as much? “Phoebe is a grown woman, Pru, and you are not responsible for her deeds. As you said yourself tonight, everyone makes their own choices.”
Sebastian could almost see Prudence turning over his words in her clever mind, and he noted with approval that she no longer looked quite so desolate. Suddenly, as if coming to a decision, she lifted her chin and nodded determinedly. “You are nght, of course, dear, sensible Sebastian. Come,” she said, rising to her feet. “Let us have that bath now.”
Sebastian smiled, glad to see the glimmer of spirit back in her lovely eyes. And then he laughed out loud, for who but dear Pru would ever think the Devil Earl sensible?
An early start got them to Mullion before the rain began, and after endless inquiries they came to a small cottage purported to be the home of a John Darlington. It was a far cry from Mr. Darlington’s supposed estate in Devon, but it looked clean and well tended, and the elderly gentleman who greeted them seemed pleasant enough.
He invited them in for a spot of ale, but when he found out they were looking for his nephew, he shook his head. “I don’t have any more doings with the rascal!” he said. Then he sank into a neat wooden chair, sighing heavily, as if reminded of his own regrets.
“Not a bad boy, mind you, but ever since he learned he was cousin to the duke, he got to thinking he deserved better than what he had. He started studying for the law, but that was too slow for him. Too much work!” he said, with a scowl of disgust. He took a long pull on his ale.
“He got in with those that want a quick way to wealth. Started buying fancy clothes,” he said, with a snort. “Taking on airs. Traipsing off to London to mingle with the young bucks, thinking he can live off of them, no doubt. But he always comes back, with pockets to let, begging me for money. Well, I put up with it as long as could, out of respect for my poor brother. A man of God, he was, and he would be sorely disappointed to see what his son has become.”
As interesting as she found the elder Darlington, Prudence felt the pressure of time weighing on her shoulders. His nephew had run away with her sister four days ago, and she knew well enough what could have happened in that length of time. “Mr. Darlington, do you have any idea where he would be now?” she asked.
He frowned. “Well, if he’s not in London, he’s probably around about town somewhere, drinking and doing God knows what else with those ruffian cronies of his.” He paused to take another swallow and slammed his mug down upon the table loudly, as if to take out his anger on the wooden surface.
“I have nothing against free-trading, mind you, and during the war our boys were commissioned by the regent himself to do what they could against those murdering Frenchies.” He frowned, staring into his al
e. “But there’s free-trading that’s honest work, and then there’s other sorts.”
Prudence saw Sebastian fix the older man with a sharp, interested stare. “Are you saying that your nephew is involved with smugglers, Mr. Darlington?” the earl asked.
At the pointed question, their host grew wary. He lifted the mug to his lips and drained it, then set it down with a thump. “I’m not saying anything, my lord. Like I told you, I have no dealings with the boy. Perhaps you had better be on your way.”
Prudence felt her heart sink. This kind but apprehensive old man was their only link to Phoebe. If he did not help them, where would they look? Reaching across the table, Prudence placed her hand on his, startling the old gentleman. “Please, Mr. Darlington. I am afraid that my sister might be with him. I just want to make sure she is all right.”
His wrinkled features softened then, though he slid his hand from beneath hers. “Well, I know that he does his drinking at the Bloody Mary, down along the water, but it is no place for a young lady like yourself.”
“Oh, thank you, sir!” she said, leaping to her feet. “You have been most helpful.”
“Yes,” said Sebastian, rising to stand beside her. “Most helpful indeed.”
The Bloody Mary was definitely no place for a lady, but Prudence would not hear of Sebastian going inside without her. “Phoebe is my sister,” she protested. Besides, as much as she respected Sebastian, she had learned at the Darlington cottage that the arrogant earl was not the best person to coax others to talk.
He did better at the tavern, where his money and his willingness to part with it made the owner positively loquacious. “Aye, Darlington was in here,” the man said with a grin. “When was it, Jack?” he asked a nearby patron.
Jack scratched his filthy beard and crooked his head, as if studying a complex problem. “Wednesday,” he finally answered.
“Aye, so it was. Wednesday,” the owner repeated. “Had a woman with him, too. Pretty little thing. They got a room,” he added, with a wink that made Prudence’s blood run cold.
“Did they stay the night?” Sebastian asked coolly, and Prudence was thankful for his aplomb. The earl was unflappable, whereas she…Well, this situation was entirely too close to her heart for her to maintain the proper equanimity.
“Can’t rightly say,” the owner answered. “As I recall, there was a fight not long after he came in. Happens here sometimes,” he said, winking broadly again. “And I lost track of him,” he concluded with a shrug.
“Really?” Sebastian asked, fixing the man with one of his steeliest stares.
“Yessir,” the fellow muttered. “How about you, Jack? Did you see what happened to Darlington, or the filly with him?”
Jack swiveled toward them again, scratching his beard and rolling his eyes back into his head so far that Prudence was afraid he might swoon. Finally, he rested his rheumy gaze upon the earl. “No.”
Prudence felt like shaking the fellow, but the distasteful notion of touching him made her dismiss that idea.
“How about you, Tom?” the owner asked. A skinny fellow with black, beady eyes, who reeked of alcohol and reminded Prudence of a ferret, lifted his head. “You talking about a pretty little blonde, looked like an angel?”
“Yes!” Prudence said, leaning forward. A whiff of the drunkard made her move discreetly back again, and she glanced at Sebastian, catching the slight twitch of his mouth at her discomfiture.
“Well?” Sebastian asked.
“She and her gentleman friend went somewhere,” Tom said. His gaze jumped up and down the earl, as if assessing his price, and Sebastian obediently placed a coin in front of him. “Heard ’em say they was to find a better inn than old Charlie’s here,” he said, his lips splitting into a grin that revealed his lack of teeth. “The Chapel Inn.”
“Why, that’s up the coast,” the aforementioned Charlie said, looking interested. “I wonder what Darlington’s up to?” His eyes narrowed speculatively. “I’ll thank him to settle his bill here before moving on to them fancy places. And you can tell him so,” Charlie said, a bit too vehemently. Suddenly, the genial tavernkeeper appeared dangerous, and Prudence was glad to feel the earl’s hand upon her arm.
“We most definitely will,” he assured the man as they left the dingy, smoky place.
Outside, Prudence drank in the dank air greedily, although it reeked of rotting fish and garbage, owing to the unsavory location of the Bloody Mary.
“It appears we are off to the Chapel,” Sebastian said, helping her into the waiting coach. “Let us hope it is a bit more refined.”
“Yes,” Prudence agreed. “Though I must say, this trip is providing me with plenty of grist for my writing.” She heard Sebastian’s low laugh, a gentle comfort, and then his orders to the driver.
Back the way they had come, she thought dismally, for they had passed the Chapel Inn on their way to Mullion.
It was still early afternoon when they came to the inn, a pleasant little stone building sitting off the road among golden gorse and blackthorn. “If he could afford a nicer place, why did he take her to that horrid tavern?” Prudence asked.
“I suspect that he was doing a bit of business there,” Sebastian replied, with a grim look. “From what his uncle said, young Darlington is involved with some rather unsavory smugglers. Perhaps he knows something about the goods stored below Wolfinger.”
“Oh, I doubt that,” Prudence said. “These free-traders are usually local.”
“Yes, well, one never knows, does one?” he asked, with a wry twist of his mouth. “I will enjoy speaking with him, nonetheless.”
Prudence felt a shiver go up her spine at Sebastian’s tone. As much as she despised Darlington, she did not want the earl to do anything rash to the man, who might possibly be her brother-in-law. The thought made her cringe. A smuggler in the family! And Phoebe had thought the Devil Earl was bad.
The Chapel Inn was quaint and cozy and blessedly clean, and the owner did not look as if he kept a knife in his boot or a gun in his waistband. Once apprised of Sebastian’s title, he was most obsequious, and without any money changing hands.
“A Mr. Darlington, you say, my lord?” He frowned, as if in disappointment. “I cannot say as I have seen him. It has been quiet this week, with only the young couple here now.”
“What young couple?” Sebastian queried.
“Is the lady blond and petite?” Prudence asked, hope burgeoning in her breast.
The landlord looked from the earl to her, as if bewildered by their interest. “Why, yes, a lovely thing she is—”
Sebastian did not let the man finish. “What room?”
“Why, my best, the front one,” the landlord said, but when Sebastian and Prudence began rushing forward, he hurried after them, protesting. “Here now, you can’t go disturbing my guests!”
Sebastian was already trying the door, and when it did not open, he thrust his shoulder against it. The old wood, unprepared for such usage, swung free to fall to the chamber floor with a great crash.
Hearing a suspiciously familiar shriek, Prudence peeked in to see a man lying on top of a woman in the bed that filled the space, and as the man rolled aside, there was no mistaking Phoebe, who was pulling the sheet up over her bare breasts and screaming at the intrusion.
“Phoebe!” Prudence cried.
“What the devil?” yelled a male voice, and Prudence was startled to see not Darlington, but another man, naked in bed with her sister. He had long golden hair, a bronzed chest, and an earring that glittered from one lobe, making him look like a pirate.
“Oh, my!” Prudence whispered, truly horrified.
Beside her, Sebastian tensed and took a step into the room, as if preparing to threaten the stranger. Then he stopped cold and stared, not with his usual menacing air, but with startled wonder.
“James?” he asked.
“Sebastian!” the pirate exclaimed.
“Prudence!” Phoebe cried.
“Oh, my!” Prude
nce muttered again, for it appeared that Sebastian’s brother, James, had returned…to bed her sister.
The earl was the first to collect himself. “What are you doing with Miss Lancaster?” he asked. Although he appeared as composed as ever, Prudence detected the emotion that rode beneath his calm surface, and she stepped beside him. She could almost feel his loyalties tearing him apart, and she reached out to put a restraining hand on his arm, for she did not want Phoebe to come between the brothers.
James, who looked as if he didn’t know whether to hug his brother or strike him, wrapped a blanket around his middle and left Phoebe cowering under the remaining covers. He stalked toward them with an assured gait that little resembled his previous dandified steps.
“I was making love to my wife!” he replied. “Would you care to see the special license?”
“No,” Sebastian said. He cleared his throat. “I believe congratulations are in order, then.”
“Just one moment,” James said, looking behind them. If he was expecting to find a chaperone, he was surely disappointed, for no one stood there but the distraught innkeeper. “I might ask the same of you, brother,” he said, in a peremptory tone not unlike his sibling’s. He put his hands on his hips, making his blanket slip precariously, and Prudence averted her eyes.
“Just what are you doing with this Miss Lancaster?”
After the landlord was most generously compensated for the damage to his door and everyone involved assured him that all was well and that they would need his private parlor and plenty of food and drink, he was mollified and hurried off to see to a meal for his guests.
And after the sisters and brothers had hugged each other and Prudence had hugged James and Phoebe had even hugged Sebastian, tearfully begging his forgiveness for her previous accusations, everyone settled down to eat and talk. They chatted amiably, but Prudence knew that all of them were waiting expectantly to hear James’s story.
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