Surrender of a Siren (The Wanton Dairymaid Trilogy #2)

He slid an arm about her waist, drawing her close.

Cursing her cowardice, Sophia leaned against him. Just the thought of it… telling him everything, watching him struggle to choose between her and his dreams … She felt her bonnet ribbons constricting about her throat, cutting off her air. Desperation tugged at her, urging her to flee. But this was not London. Tortola was so small, so un-crowded, so unfamiliar to her and known to Gray. From the boat she could see the settlement of Road Town rising up from the harbor like an amphitheater, all the largest buildings crowded near the water. People milled about the docks, nearly all of them shades of brown or ebony. How could a female, fair-skinned interloper like her possibly hope to disappear? Where would she turn, if he let her go?

The Walthams. She had this one connection. Perhaps they were still here. She could claim her acquaintance with Lucy. Better yet, she could claim to be Lucy. She still had the original letter, after all. His confident baritone caressed her ear. “Don’t be nervous. You’re beautiful. I’m so proud of you, I think my coat will burst from it.”

“It’s lovely here,” she said, wanting to change the subject.

“I suppose it is, to a newcomer. Though it’s only home for me.”

Sophia didn’t think she could ever greet such a sight with indifference, even after de cades. The lush, verdant island rimmed with white sand, set against a backdrop of azure sky … it would take her dozens of attempts to render these brilliant colors faithfully.

“Yes, there she is,” Gray said as they neared the dock. “I think she’s grown two inches since I saw her last.” Releasing Sophia’s waist, he cupped his hands around his mouth and called, “Bel!”

A young woman stood on the dock. She wore no bonnet, but shielded her eyes with both hands. At Gray’s salute, she dropped one to her throat and raised the other in a wave.

From this distance, Sophia couldn’t judge whether Miss Grayson had her father’s ears, but her coloring was vastly different from either of her brothers’. She had olive skin and jet-black hair, so black it reflected a bluish gloss from the sky.

Heavens, Sophia thought as they docked. Miss Grayson was a true beauty. Hers was an exotic, medieval, operatic beauty—a beauty that radiated from within. The kind of beauty that inspired men to compose odes and wage wars, and inspired ladies to make unkind comments in retiring rooms. No wonder Gray would do anything for her.

How could Sophia ever withstand comparison to this creature? Drat. She should have worn the silk after all.

The young lady ran to meet their boat at the end of the dock. Her breathless greeting preempted any introductions. “Oh, thank God.” She gulped for air. “Thank God you’ve arrived. They’re coming for you, you know. They’ve already taken Joss.” Her hand fluttered like a bird’s wing.

“Dolly, there’s talk of hanging.”

Dear Lord, had she just said—

“Hanging?” Gray helped Sophia out of the boat, then bounded onto the dock. He took his sister by the shoulders. “Bel, calm down. Tell me what’s happened.”

Miss Grayson swallowed hard. “When Joss brought the Aphrodite in, that horrid man … the other captain—”

“Mallory,” Gray supplied impatiently.

“Yes, him. He went to the Vice Admiralty court and accused you of attacking him, taking his ship by force. They’ve put Joss in jail, and they’re coming for you.” She glanced over her shoulder. A trio of disconcertingly large men strode toward them. “They’re charging you both with piracy.”

At the word, Sophia went queasy. The dock lurched under her. She was on solid land now—or solid wood, at any rate—why did it still feel as though she were at sea?

Gray did not seem perturbed in the least. “I was expecting this. Mallory’s nothing but a lying bilge rat, Bel. I’ll have it straightened out in a minute, you’ll see.” He smiled at Sophia. “And then I’ve someone you’ll be glad to meet.”

Sophia and Miss Grayson barely had time to exchange befuddled looks before the men were upon them.

“Jenkins.” Gray greeted the man in front with a nod. Sophia recognized his posture of effortless authority. “Always a pleasure.”

“Welcome back, Gray. Good to see you, too.” The man’s gaze shifted to his companions, then back to Gray.

“What can I do for you, man? My sister tells me there’s been a misunderstanding about the Kestrel.”

“Seems so,” Jenkins said. “Gray, I’m afraid you’ll have to come with us straightaway. We’ve orders to hold you until the judge has a chance to question you and decide on charges.”

“There won’t be any charges,” Gray said, chuckling. “But I’ll be glad to come, just as soon as I’ve seen to my passengers and crew.”