Kasey Michaels - Romney Marsh Trilogy - A Gentleman by Any Other Name / The Dangerous Debutante / Beware of Virtuous Women

“Oh, no. You’re considering riding out as the Black Ghost? Don’t you think you’re past such adventures, old man?”

“I’ll ignore that insult,” Ainsley said. “I can plan here,” he said, leaning over the table of maps and charts. “A leader leads, Chance, and teaches by example. You said that. We both know that.”

Chance gave in to the excitement of the moment, his memories of following wherever Captain Geoffrey Baskin went, drinking in all he could learn, dancing in his brain. “Exactly so. And why should you have all the fun? Don’t bother to deny it, you’ve got your blood up, Cap’n, and you’re enjoying yourself. I remember that look. I sailed at your side for over eight years and I’m riding with you tonight.”

“From boy to young man, and I’ve missed you. But, no, you’re not riding tonight. I need you to find out more about these Red Men so that we can deal with them where they are before we bring the attentions of the Preventative Waterguard and the dragoons too close to Becket Hall.”

Chance smiled. “Yes, I thought the same thing earlier. A wise bird never soils its own nest.”

“Exactly as I explained to Court an hour ago. We never struck anywhere near the island. But enough of that. I’ve already told Billy to have the Respite ready for you in an hour, and that was thirty minutes ago. Go say your farewells to the inquisitive Miss Carruthers and be back here by the end of the week. Oh, and for God’s sake, don’t warn her to stay away from the windows tonight, because—”

“Because that would only ensure that she’d find a spyglass somewhere and keep watch until dawn. Yes, I know. I’ll see you Friday. Try not to get shot or captured, if you don’t mind. I do have my position at the War Office to consider—along with the length of my neck, which I like as it is, thank you. Are you sure you’ll be all right? It’s been a long time since you’ve been out on a run.”

“Cornwall, when I was younger than Cassandra is now. I do recall my own incautious youth, as well as remembering why my brother and I found it necessary to leave there and travel to the islands. And I won’t be out on a run, Chance, but merely waiting here on dry land. When I left the sea, I vowed never to go back, remember? That includes jaunts across the Channel. I told you, Court has held the Black Ghost’s involvement to the shore and inland, thank God.”

“Speaking of Court, does my little brother know you’re taking command?”

Ainsley’s eyes shone in real amusement. “Why do you think he was so ready to punch something?”

CHANCE LEFT THE STUDY, smiling, losing that smile when he remembered that he had to say goodbye to Julia before getting on with his business. Business that might be dangerous on some level but that had his blood running—although a smart man wouldn’t let Miss Julia Carruthers so much as think she’d glimpsed a hint of that excitement.

He passed Morgan on the stairs, and she stopped him to ask, “What’s going on? Court looks like a thundercloud, and when I asked if he’s going out tonight he all but stripped off my hide and fed it to me.”

“Good, that will save me the bother,” Chance said, chucking her beneath her chin, believing he’d found the perfect fib to keep the girl out of trouble. “But I will give you a word of warning, dear sister. Ainsley knows.”

Morgan’s face went deathly pale. “Papa…he knows? He knows I sneaked out and rode with Court a time or two? Who told him? You tell me, Chance—which one of you tattled? It was you, wasn’t it?”

“Who tells Ainsley anything? We all know he has ears everywhere,” Chance said, winking. “I also know, were I you, I’d be on my best behavior for the next few weeks.”

Morgan seemed to regain some of her bravado. “He won’t do anything. Besides, Papa doesn’t pay attention.”

Chance patted her cheek. “Things change, Morgan. He’s paying attention now.”

She made a face at him before saying, “I don’t really remember the island much at all, you know? Court said I don’t need to either, that I should just remember being Morgan Becket of Romney Marsh. Was Papa really—”

“Oh, yes, he was, and the very best of them, too. You might want to think twice before getting on his bad side.”

“Now you’re just trying to frighten me.”

“I know. Is it working?” Chance asked, grinning.

“I think so, yes. Does he really know what I’ve done? I mean, really? You told him? It had to be you.”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure he won’t call you on the carpet. Just spend some time letting Elly teach you how to embroider or something.”

“I’d rather die the death of a thousand cuts,” Morgan said sincerely. “I read about that, you know. There’s this method of torture, you see, and they—”

Chance raised his hand to silence her before he was gifted with all the gory details. “Thank God you aren’t the oldest or you’d have trained the rest of the girls up to be hellions just like you. When I go back to London, I want to arrange for you to come up for the season next spring. We’ve got to marry you off, definitely. Let you become someone else’s headache.”

“Wretch. But I’ll be eighteen by then, won’t I? Maybe a year will help, and I’ll be civilized by then. Elly says she doesn’t think London is ready for me yet,” Morgan said not at all unhappily.

“And I agree with her. But I’ve some penance owing here, so I might as well start with getting you out of the way.”

Morgan kissed him on the cheek. “I know you love me, so I’ll let your insults pass. And I think I might enjoy London, riding in the park and all of that, as long as I can come back here once the season is over.”

“You might find Becket Hall dull after London. Now do I have your promise you’ll keep your nose out of the Black Ghost’s business? Morgan? A season in Mayfair hobnobbing with all the handsome young lords hangs in the balance. Answer me.”

“Oh, all right, I promise. But they’re landing on the sands and will come along the beach to the village, so I’ll see everything anyway. I’ll just stay on the terrace, all hidden behind the balustrades, and watch.”

Chance looked at her closely. “And how would you know that? Have you taken to listening at keyholes now?”

“No, I’d never do that,” she said happily. “I just happened to see Court talking to Jacob as he was cleaning the grate in Elly’s bedchamber and I traded a kiss for what he knew.”

“Of all things wonderful. My sister has grown into a manipulating minx. You could get yourself in trouble, you know, toying with a man’s affections.”

“Pooh! Jacob’s no more than a boy.”

“As I remember it, Jacob is Spencer’s age, a good several years your senior. Hardly a boy.”

“He is to me. Besides, I wouldn’t have done it if you or Court ever told me what’s happening, so if you’re placing blame, place it on yourself,” she said, seeming not the least insulted. “I only do what I have to do because you men think women are too delicate to know anything. But don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone I saw you leaving Julia’s bedchamber late last night, and you won’t tell anybody that I know what I know. And I will stay on the terrace.”

Believing that was as close as he was going to come to having Morgan obey him and already wishing he didn’t know so much about his enterprising sister—or she about him—Chance headed once more for Julia’s bedchamber.

He was going to keep Billy waiting and would probably have to simply hope that Billy had folded his clothing and not merely stuffed them in a traveling case.

There also was no time to personally check and make sure Billy had remembered to pack such superfluous things as hose and several sets of fresh underclothes—Billy never having quite grasped the idea of changing his own underclothes with any regularity. Still, thank God he’d decided to leave Oswald behind in Upper Brook Street rather than have the valet poking his long nose around Becket Hall.