“Now wait,” Boyd put in. “You can’t assume the man is French just because of that mon ami. I’m not all that familiar with the French language, but doesn’t that particular phrase mean ‘my friend’?”
“Sarcasm at its best,” James replied. “That note implies he wanted me to know exactly who was orchestrating my demise without providing proof that could be used in a court of law. And that, more’n anything else, sounds like Lacross. I also wouldn’t be surprised if Lacross has a daughter who’s a jewel thief and as clever as a fox, that shrew Catherine Meyer, who our fake distant relative Andrássy brought aboard The Maiden George.”
“Does she resemble Lacross?” Warren asked.
“Not closely enough for me to conclude that she’s his daughter,” James admitted. “But she could be doing Lacross’s dirty work. Either the warden in Anguilla lied to Drew, or Lacross is pulling strings from inside that prison. The point of this entire plan could have been to hand-deliver me to that prison and right into his cell.”
“Not possible,” Boyd disagreed. “I thought you nobles never got locked up for anything.”
“That’s usually the case,” James said. “But Captain Hawke would be.”
“Captain Hawke died in England. I could have sworn you made sure of it.”
“I did,” James said. “But news of Hawke’s demise might not have reached all the islands in the Caribbean, where warrants for Hawke’s capture could still be active. And I’ve been back there and someone who knew me as Captain Hawke might have spotted me. More to the point, Lacross saw me when I helped Drew rescue Gabby and Lacross was captured, so he knows I’m not dead. What I can’t figure out is how Lacross or whoever is behind this plot figured out that Hawke is James Malory. I went to great lengths to keep Hawke’s true identity a secret.”
Warren groaned. “Are we going to have to attack a British prison?”
“No—well, I hope not,” James replied. “I do need to have a talk with that warden, though. However, I can also think of two other men who might have said something similar to what’s in that original note. So many questions remain. Nothing is conclusive other than I’m sailing the morning after that damned masquerade ball I got browbeaten into attending.”
Boyd chuckled, guessing, “Georgie at her finest, eh?”
“On the contrary. I just bloody well hate balls. My George, however, can be enjoyably persuasive.”
“Oh, God, he didn’t just imply—?” Warren started to complain.
Anthony cut in with a snicker. “Course he did, Yank.”
Outside, Jeremy helped Jacqueline to her feet to escort her back inside the house, complaining, “I should have been in that room, but he’s refused to let me participate.”
“You think I didn’t try? He’s adamant that neither of us can go.”
Jeremy snorted. “I understand why you’re being excluded, but I lived in the islands and know the Caribbean like the back of my hand. I would be a real asset and he knows it.”
“Let’s try not to insult me, Brother,” Jack said drily. “You or I would make a perfect hostage that could stay his hand in a battle with his nemesis. So we need to bow out even if we don’t like it.”
“You do, but I still have time to change his mind. When is that ball that he referred to?”
Jacqueline rolled her eyes. Jeremy wasn’t going to win that argument with their father any more than she had. But still smarting over her own exclusion, she wasn’t about to stay there and try to convince him. She had to find Gabby and get her to tell her everything she knew about the pirate Pierre Lacross.
Chapter Four
YOU DON’T SEEM AT all upset that Father will be sailing in the morning without either of us,” Jacqueline said to her mother as she looked at herself in the full-length mirror in her bedroom.
“I do hide it well, don’t I? Though I have every confidence that he will return from the Caribbean triumphant so we can put this nasty business behind us, that doesn’t mean I’m not going to worry every moment that he’s gone.”
“And miss him.”
“Of course I will, terribly. And I know you will, too. And, no, you’re not going to mention again that you’d rather be sailing off with him in the morning instead of staying behind with me.”
Jacqueline grinned. “I wasn’t going to. I know bloody well when I’m outnumbered in the argument, even though I’m more deserving of an opportunity to exact revenge than—”
“Jack,” Georgina cut in warningly.
“That just slipped out, really, it did.”
Georgina tsked. “At least the rest of the Season will be a distraction for you and me.”
Jack hoped that would be the case. She just wished she could be distracted sooner, say tonight, from her father’s departure. At least with her wearing a black wig and a domino no one was going to be able to tell that she was also experiencing emotions—of the vexing sort. Not when on the surface she looked vivacious. And truly, she couldn’t deny she was quite excited about the evening’s festivities. For once she wouldn’t know whom she was dancing with. She loved harmless little mysteries of that sort.
They were both already dressed for the ball tonight. Georgina had surprised Jacqueline with a new emerald necklace to match her pale green ball gown, which she fastened behind Jack’s neck.
“Now, come along. Your father is no doubt anxious to get this over with! He’s waiting downstairs with Brandon.”
“Brandon? When he said he wouldn’t come!”
“He told us you insisted, and we all know that meant you browbeat the dear boy mercilessly.”
Jack grinned. “Well, only a little. But a masquerade is the perfect opportunity for him to sneak in for a little fun without being announced as the Duke of Wrighton at the door. I had to try to convince him after he said he’s not planning on joining any Season. He doesn’t know what he’ll be missing, but after tonight he will, so maybe he’ll change his mind.”
“I wouldn’t count on that. Brandon takes his consequence quite seriously, more’s the pity, but then you know how I feel about titles. You need to recall that he’s the first duke in this family, and his parents have raised him as such. And you aren’t to interfere, Jack, not even a little. I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if his future wife is picked for him. She will need to have impeccable credentials.”
Jacqueline snorted. “Doom and gloom. You’re forgetting he’s also a Malory.”
Georgina raised a brow. “And Malorys tend to get what they want?”
“Exactly.”
“I CAN’T BELIEVE HE’S actually dancing.”
As Jacqueline danced with Brandon, she followed his gaze and laughed when her parents twirled past them on the dance floor. “I can. Mother entered with you and me, but my father was a few couples behind us in the line, so no one will guess it’s him even if they were able to guess it’s me. This black wig I’m wearing and the domino were supposed to keep my identity a secret.”
“They didn’t.”