The fellow might not look very dangerous, being short and round and sporting that tiny, pointed beard, but Tim wasn’t the only one who feared him.
"I simply cannot believe the cool and contained Duprey has fallen for a mere girl. How disappointing," Devlin said, with a scowl. His thick hands moved when he spoke, sending off sparks of light from the many jeweled rings he wore, perhaps to impress or distract.
"You say he’s actually returning to Bridgetown for no other reason than to pursue some vapid young virgin?"
"Yes, sir," Tim said. "I have it on the authority of several members of the crew. I took to drinking with them, to hear what I could. The night before they sailed, no one could say where they were bound, but they were told they would return soon. And more than one claimed it was because the captain had his eye on a filly."
Devlin still looked skeptical, his small, dark eyes boring into Tim, as though he knew Tim was keeping back. But Tim saw no need to tell the man that Duprey had recognized him. He had done his job well enough, hadn’t he? Still, he started to sweat.
"And he saw a lot of this... creature while he was there?" Devlin asked.
"Yes," Tim said, trying not to show his relief. "He met her at a party and then went to her house twice."
"That hardly constitutes an obsession," Devlin said, while Tim shifted from one foot to the other.
"Well, I thought you would want to know, but I can go right back," Tim said. "Perhaps I shouldn’t have come."
"No. You were right to report this development, whatever it might mean, to me," Devlin said, causing Tim to breathe a bit easier.
"What is the girl's name?"
"Amberly, sir. Catherine Amberly. She’s supposed to be a baron’s daughter, but now she’s living with old Mrs. Molesworth, who used to own a plantation there."
"Amberly… Why does that sound familiar?" Devlin said softly, raising a fat finger to tap his chin. "I never forget a name or a face. And though I cannot put features to the name, I have heard it... in connection with Edward..." His voice trailed off as he paused to call for his assistant. "Richard!"
Tim nearly jumped out of his skin at Devlin's bellow, quailing when the fat man's attention swung back toward him. "You'll be well paid, if your story is confirmed," Devlin said.
Tim swallowed hard and nodded, just as a blond-haired man entered, in response to Devlin's shout.
"Richard, this… fellow here claims that Duprey has fallen under the spell of a female," Devlin said. "Go back with him to Bridgetown and find out if it is true."
"Certainly," the blond man said, and Tim scowled. What was this fancy fellow to do that he couldn't?
"The creature's name is Catherine Amberly. I want you to find out everything there is to know about her. Everything. This is important, Richard. I have my suspicions about this girl..." His words trailed off as he stroked his beard.
"You can stay at a plantation owned by William Montgomery. He owes me a favor," Devlin said, with a smirk. "But don't lose sight of the girl," he warned, the smoothness of his voice masking the inherent threat. And, suddenly, Tim was grateful that he was to be no more than a guide.
Devlin became silent, as though his thoughts were elsewhere, then he said briskly, "I'm closing up the office here. I'll be going to England for a time. I have some business that's been waiting, and now a new matter demands my attention." He waved a hand, as if in dismissal.
"And if Duprey is smitten with this female?" the blond man asked.
Devlin's thin lips curled into an evil smile as he answered with hesitation. "Why, break up his little romance, of course."
Tim turned to go, but the assistant cleared his throat. "Wouldn't this lady be an asset to us, if she could be bought?"
Devlin's thin smile tightened before answering, as though he were delighted by the possibility. "Most assuredly," he said. "In fact, if my suspicions prove correct, we may even have the means necessary to... persuade her."
"And what suspicions are those?" Richard asked.
Devlin eyed him closely before shrugging. "An old associate of mine has a relative who has gone missing. Quite possibly a runaway. In that case, she may have value to us other than her ability to charm Duprey," Devlin said. "I'll know more when I've spoken to Edward," he said.
"But that is for me to discover. Your task lies on Barbados," he said. "Just make certain Duprey is sorely used, with or without the woman's help."
***
Cat was still bristling over Ransom's kisses as she stepped into the carriage. The conceit of the man! And she had practically swooned at his feet like any other besotted admirer.
Cat berated her treacherous body again and again for her rapid surrender. No matter how often she had dreamed of his touch while serving on the
Reckless
, she knew better than to court ruin at the hands of a man who never intended to wed.
"Are you all right, dear?"
Cat saw the concern on her aunt's face and forced a smile. "Of course, I'm looking forward to our weekly visit to Lord Claremont's, as always," she said. "But, remember, there's no need to tell his lordship about the duke."
"My heavens, why not?" Amelia demanded, fluttering her fan in the close confines of the vehicle. "I think he'll be impressed that a duke is calling on you. After all, my dear, Lord Duprey would make a fine match, and you certainly haven't shown any interest in any other gentlemen. I think you should seriously consider his suit. Imagine, my little Catherine as a duchess." She sighed in obvious delight.
Cat laughed aloud. "Somehow I find that hard to envision," she said, looking out over the tall bearded fig trees. "And suit? what suit? If you think the man has a proposal in mind, dear aunt, you are daydreaming. Rogues like Ransom don't believe in marriage."
"I swear I cannot keep track of which way the wind blows," Amelia said, shaking her head. "One day the man is wonderful, the next he is a demon. I certainly wish you would make up your mind. Why-" Amelia began, but Cat cut her off, unable to bear another recitation of Ransom's finer points.
"Please, aunt. Promise me you won't bring it up."
"Catherine Amberly, what has gotten into you? You have been acting quite odd of late. Perhaps some island malaise is affecting you. Have you a fever?" Amelia dropped her fan into her lap and pressed her fingers to Cat's forehead.
"I don't have a fever," Cat said, pushing her aunt's hand away and staring moodily over the landscape.
"It must be love, then," Amelia said in a teasing tone.
"I am
not
in love with Ransom Duprey, so you may dismiss your duchess fantasy," Cat said. "I vow that you are the one acting strangely, with such foolish notions."
Amelia only sighed knowingly, making Cat sink back into the cushions and close her eyes. She began to wish fervently that she had stayed home.
And when she was ushered into Lord Claremont's drawing room, she had even more reason to regret her attendance. Lord Claremont, tall and thin, but robust, walked forward to greet them, as always, but then he turned.
"Let me introduce another guest to you," he said, and Cat swallowed a groan. The tall, dark figure was all too familiar.
"Your grace," Amelia said. "How lovely to see you."
Cat could not share her aunt's sentiments, but pasted a smile on her face as she was led in to supper.
Lord Claremont prided himself on setting a good table, and this evening's courses were no exception. But Cat had no appetite for the turtle soup or anything else.
"It appears we are to have the pleasure of your company for some time, your grace," she said. "I would think the duties of your ship would have called you away by now."
"I have been conducting some business, but, alas, I will have to return to the sea soon, Miss Amberly," he said, with exaggerated regret. "As much as I enjoy the company here," he said, pausing to grin wickedly at her, "I must not neglect my business."
"Oh, how disappointing for us," Cat said, though she would prefer to toast his speedy departure.
"You are welcome as a guest in my home any time," Lord Claremont told Ransom, much to Cat's dismay. "And I doubt you'll find better accommodations on the island."
Cat refused to look at Ransom, whom she pictured grinning luridly at the prospect of encamping nearly on her doorstep. She clamped her mouth shut and let the other three carry the conversation, refusing to take another look in her captain's direction.
The meal seemed interminable as course after course was trotted out, and Cat wondered if she could plead a headache afterward. As they rose from the table, she was about to give her excuses, but Lord Claremont had other plans.
"Since we've a foursome this evening," he said, rubbing his hands with relish, "let's have a game of whist." Cat groaned inwardly, knowing somehow that she would draw Ransom as a partner. When she did, she was tempted once more to bow out. But Ransom's next words stopped her.
"You do know how to play?" he asked, in that insufferably superior tone he used all too frequently with her.
Cat considered herself a better than average player and rose to the challenge like a fish to a line. However, she was spared a retort by her host.
"I say, Worcester, you are lucky to have drawn Miss Amberly. She's an excellent player."
"How fortunate for me, then," Ransom said, with a a lazy smile.
When he pulled out Cat's chair, she half expected him to misplace it. But she did not expect him to lean close and whisper in her ear, "I'm sorry about yesterday. A truce?"
Nearly jumping at the feel of his breath against her hair, Cat shot him a glance of incredulity that made him laugh aloud, drawing the attention of their older companions. But Ransom ignored their questioning gazes and took his seat, his brow raised as he looked at Cat.
Against her better judgment, she felt the corners of her mouth twitching. Finally, she sighed and nodded her acceptance.
Although Lord Claremont and Amelia had played whist together for years, earning a reputation as a more than able team, it soon became apparent that Ransom and Cat were the better players as they handily won a succession of games.
"Are you sure you two haven't partnered before?" Lord Claremont asked irritably.
Cat shook her, for she and Ransom had never played aboard the
Reckless
. Even had he asked his cabin boy, who would have completed the set? Her lips curved as she tried to imagine a few of her burly friends from the ship engaged in whist.
"I was hoping to persuade Miss Amberly to go riding with me tomorrow," Ransom said, and Cat's smile fled.
"By all means, feel free to use the stables," Lord Claremont said, and Cat glared at her host. He had never offered
her
the use of his animals. But then, she was only the relative of his neighbor, not a duke. If he only knew...
***
Ransom left the plantation with the now-familiar feeling of satisfaction, as though an evening spent in the company of two elderly people and a young chit had proven more enjoyable than it should have. But he was no closer to solving the mystery of Miss Amberly. He had asked Lord Claremont about the two women before their arrival only to discover his host viewed them as helpless creatures in need of male protection.
Ransom discounted Claremont's judgment as wishful thinking, for he could not imagine two more independent females. Ransom suspected that Claremont would offer for his neighbor at the slightest urging, but since the two had known each other for many years, Ransom doubted any encouragement would be forthcoming.
As for Miss Amberly, Claremont saw nothing unusual in her precipitous arrival six months ago and knew of no other relatives. No doubt, Mrs. Molesworth had spun the tale of the wicked baron for Ransom in hopes of snaring the title of duchess for her niece. And yet, somehow that didn't ring true. Ransom's instincts told him something else was afoot here beside a lovely young lady's marriage prospects.
Nor was Miss Amberly the usual sort pushed upon him by match-making mamas. She was beautiful, intelligent, and witty, far different than any woman he had ever known. Of course, it had been a long time since he'd established more than a passing familiarity with any female besides Sally Knotts.
There was a good reason for that, Ransom reminded himself. He was too busy to listen to the simpering demands of a mistress, and his wealth too hard-won. A man away at sea was apt to find his gold supporting not only a luscious lady, but her other amours as well.
Perhaps Devlin hoped that the intriguing Miss Amberly would charm him into establishing her as his mistress, then bleed him dry. If so, his enemy was to be disappointed, for no woman held Ransom's interest for long.
But since Miss Amberly had succeeded in capturing his attention, he might take a few days to pursue her... and see where it led him, he thought with a smile.
Chapter Nine
As she dressed in her new riding habit, Cat could not help feeling a thrill of excitement. How good it would be to ride again, to watch the countryside fly by at a good gallop and feel the rush of the wind.
And Ransom would be with her. What should have been a drawback to the excursion only heightened her anticipation, and she frowned. But he would be leaving soon, and what could possibly happen with Lord Claremont accompanying them?
Cat soon realized the fault in her reasoning, for when she rushed out to meet Ransom, there was no sign of the older man. Her captain was riding a handsome gelding, while Isaac presented her the reins to a spirited filly.
"Where is Lord Claremont?" Cat asked in the long-suffering tones used by nursemaids, tutors, and other handlers of unrepentant children.
"His gout was troubling him," Ransom said. But a slight twitch of his lips gave his game away.
With a sigh of resignation, Cat shook her head, her own mouth threatening to curve into a smile. "I only hope you didn't harm the poor man," she said, as she stepped forward to stroke the filly's neck.
"Her name is Beauty. Not original, but it fits," Ransom said, while the horse stamped, impatient to be off. "I hope you'll be able to handle her."