The Guise of a Gentleman (10 page)

He smiled disarmingly. “I wasn’t a pirate, I was a privateer. And there is no hidden treasure. I turned it all over to the government. The admiralty knows Leandro’s after me, but he’s so slippery, they can’t catch him.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t apprehend him when I had the opportunity.”
Her brow creased into an endearing frown.

He grinned at the thought of her prodding Leandro at gunpoint all the way to the magistrate. “No doubt you could have. Fear not. He’s probably gone back to sea in search of easier prey.”

“I’m glad to hear you weren’t truly a pirate.”

“Did you honestly believe me when I said that to Colin?”

“I hadn’t quite decided.”

He chuckled. “I do appreciate your honesty. Most women seem to think it unladylike to speak their mind.”

“I’ve grown even more outspoken since Edward died.”

“Oh? He didn’t appreciate your forthrightness?”

“He had a calming influence upon me.” Her brow creased.

“Calming or quelling?”

She shot him a look of annoyance. “His presence was a soothing reminder of how I ought to comport myself.”

“That wasn’t an answer.”

“I wanted him to be happy, and I did what I could to be the kind of wife he deserved.” Her voice grew testy.

“So for him you buried every desire of your heart?”

She stared as if he’d just suggested a scandalous liaison.

Druesdale maneuvered himself to the other side of Mrs. Berkley. He greeted Jared civilly and promptly turned his back on him to greet the lady. He turned on the charm so completely that Mrs. Berkley’s attention remained focused on him to the exclusion of anyone else, affording Jared only the view of the back of her head, and on occasion, her profile. With frustration chewing a hole through his insides, Jared silently cursed Druesdale.

He chided himself. He cared nothing if the widow exchanged a few pleasantries with another man.

Out of habit, Jared made a quick scan of everyone’s present location. As he eased Aries back, he tried to stop grinding his teeth. Surely the attention of the beautiful lady had nothing to do with his desire to run a blade through Druesdale.

The riding party stopped in a grove of trees. An army of servants hastened to lay out a meal on tables and chairs already set up. Druesdale seated himself next to Mrs. Berkley and shot Jared a challenging grin. Refusing to rise to the bait, Jared seated himself nearer the circle of men and covertly eavesdropped on their conversations. Meanwhile, he dug into a truly superb luncheon; another benefit of polite company.

“My shipping company lost another ship this week,” a male voice grumbled.

Jared’s ears perked. He gazed out over the horizon as if enjoying the view of the rolling hills and then glanced at the direction of the speaker. Mr. Bradford, the young widower who’d been eyeing Mrs. Berkley, wore a mournful expression.

“Perhaps shipping is no longer a lucrative investment,” Von Barondy suggested. “I’ve lost quite a few myself. Thinking of selling my shares.”

Bradford raised his eyebrows. “Are you? Know anyone who might be interested in buying?”

“Could be. I’ve discussed it with an investor. Merely preliminary, but I can ask him, if you wish. I’ve dealt mostly with his solicitor, but I’m convinced they are both honest men.”

Something about the overly smooth way Von Barondy made the suggestion set Jared’s teeth on edge.

“I’d be happy to contact him, if you’re serious,” Von Barondy added.

Bradford thought for a moment. “If it’s a fair offer, I’d certainly consider it. I can’t afford to lose much more. This is the third ship this year.”

“Storms or pirates? Or both?” Von Barondy affected the expression of a concerned friend, but a greedy light briefly touched his eye.

The hackles on the back of Jared’s neck rose.

“Pirates, surprisingly enough,” Bradford said. “Thought they’d been eliminated.”

“I don’t think that breed can be truly eradicated. They’ll probably plague humanity for as long as there are riches to be had,” Von Barondy said in an oily voice.

Jared avoided looking in Von Barondy’s and Bradford’s direction lest he give himself away. He scanned the crowd and found Greymore seated with his wife. Greymore looked up, met his eyes, and gave an almost imperceptible nod of understanding.

“Thank you, my lord,” Bradford said to Von Barondy. “I would like to hear what he has to offer.”

Jared located Von Barondy’s wife, sitting in a circle of ladies showing off a new ring. The other ladies gushed about it, and the viscountess preened under their admiration.

Elise Berkley murmured something polite, but the glitter of envy remained noticeably absent in her eyes until she glanced at Mrs. Greymore just as she gave her husband a look of worship. Then Mrs. Berkley’s face changed. A shadow of sadness and longing passed over her fair features as she watched husband and wife exchange smiles of affection. Mrs. Berkley looked away and visibly swallowed.

Had she loved her husband and missed him? Or did she wish such affection had existed between her and her late husband? Beauty such as hers should not be wasted on widowhood.

Too bad Jared was in no position to remedy that difficulty just yet.

Jared blinked. Where had that thought come from? He had no desire to marry anytime soon. He already faced the prospect of giving up his ship and therefore whatever sense of freedom he enjoyed. He’d seen how his married friends spent less time in their favorite pursuits, and more time in those of their wives’ choosing. Moreover, shackling himself with a wife would not only give his enemies a weakness where they could strike him, but he’d lose whatever freedom he’d gained by ridding himself of his obligation to the Secret Service.

Once he finished working for the government, he would enjoy whatever liberties became available to him as a private citizen, not give them up for a woman.

After giving himself that reminder, he squared his shoulders and refocused upon Von Barondy and Bradford, but their conversation turned to other matters. Neither of them made further mention of shipping.

After luncheon, servants set up equipment for an archery tournament. Most of the gentlemen, and half of the ladies, clamored to take part.

Druesdale approached with a forced smile. “Amesbury? Care to join in as well?”

Jared smiled darkly and wished he could aim an arrow at Druesdale. “You’d just love to see me humiliated, wouldn’t you?”

Druesdale lifted his shoulder. “You humiliated me at fencing.”

“That was years ago.”

“I’ve a long memory. I’d love to see you lose at something.”

Jared snorted. “If I were to lose at something, archery would be it. I haven’t held a bow and arrow since I was a lad.”

“Glad to hear it!”

“Your camaraderie is most heart-warming,” Jared said dryly as he got to his feet.

Mrs. Carson sidled up to him and actually fluttered her eyelashes. “I knew you’d be participating, Mr. Amesbury. One has only to look at you to know that you excel in any athletic pursuit.”

He grinned wryly. “I believe you are about to be disabused of that opinion, Mrs. Carson, as archery has never been a strength of mine. And I am rather out of practice, as well.”

“I’m certain your areas of expertise are vast. I have no doubt such a virile man is exceedingly skilled in all other manly pastimes,” she cooed.

Amused, Jared raised a brow at her obvious innuendo. “Some more than others.”

“Modest besides?”

“Not modest, merely honest.” He almost added ‘for a change.’

“You are a treasure.”

Jared couldn’t deny a certain pleasure in being openly pursued, but a woman such as she failed to capture his interest. Heaven only knew how many other beds she warmed. He wondered if Mrs. Carson’s husband knew how thoroughly he’d been cuckolded.

“The others await me.” He inclined his head in a bow and left the huntress.

Jared’s aim lasted through the first three archery rounds, but failed on the fourth. He good-naturedly accepted the spectators’ jeers, deftly extracted himself from Mrs. Hogan who sprinkled her praise with obvious glances at her daughter, sidestepped Mrs. Carson and her come-hither smile, and dropped down next to Charlotte Greymore near the others who cheered or heckled the remaining contenders. Mr. Greymore remained among those in the tournament.

“You’ve attracted some attention, I see.” Mrs. Greymore smiled at Jared and pointedly looked at Mrs. Carson who continued to send him open smiles.

Jared shrugged.

“Not even tempted?”

“She’s comely. But no.”

“Ah. You prefer more discreet women?”

“I prefer more principled women.” He bit his lip before he said, ‘like Elise Berkley.’ “Moreover, I’ve no wish to give her husband reason to call me out.”

Charlotte Greymore tilted her head and studied him. Jared returned her frank stare. Greymore had done well for himself. His wife had a sweet face and a disposition to match. Her china-blue eyes watched him unblinkingly.

“I believe I’ve misjudged you, Mr. Amesbury.”

“Oh?”

“I’m sorry to say that I found you something of a rake when I first met you.”

Jared let out a huff of amusement. “I seem to give that impression.”

“Unfounded?”

Jared paused. “I have not been a paragon but I think ‘rake’ takes it too far.”

“Yes,” she said slowly. “I can see that. There is more to you than meets the eye, Mr. Amesbury. And my husband thinks very highly of you. Few men earn his good opinion.”

“He’s certainly one of the finest men I’ve ever known. His opinion matters much to me,” Jared replied in all sincerity.

The fourth round ended, and Greymore returned amid the jests. He grinned at Jared and sat on his wife’s other side.

“You made a respectable showing, Mr. Greymore,” she said lovingly.

He kissed her hand. “Why, thank you, Mrs. Greymore. I live to impress you.”

The final round had only two archers; Lord Druesdale
and Mr. Bradford. Jared glanced at Elise Berkley, but she did not appear to be raptly watching the competition; she merely observed with polite interest. Both competitors pointedly looked her way and glared at one another.

Ah. A pair of contenders competing for the favor of the lovely widow. Lord Druesdale, stocky, greying at the temples, still presented a pleasing form. Moreover, he was wealthy and titled. Mr. Bradford, younger and fair of complexion, taller and leaner, also possessing of a respectable estate. All social circles welcomed the polite young widower. Either gentleman would be considered a smart match.

He glanced at Elise again, but she only watched the proceedings with calm reserve, her hands folded in her lap. He felt a certain satisfaction knowing she favored neither potential suitor.

Mr. Bradford nocked his arrow, took careful aim, and let it fly. It hit almost in the middle of the bull’s-eye. He accepted congratulations with a modest smile and tilted his chin toward Lord Druesdale in challenge. Then he glanced at Elise for her approval. Her expression remained passive.

A feral glint touched Lord Druesdale’s eyes as he glanced at his opponent. He, too, took careful aim. His arrow landed in a perfect bull’s-eye, winning the tournament. Members of the riding party encircled Druesdale to offer congratulations.

Elise applauded politely, but appeared slightly removed from it all; not bored, just not entirely a part of the group. He wondered why. She’d been with these people all her life, and she should be perfectly comfortable with them.

To his surprise, she arose and strolled to the edge of the clearing. She climbed upon a cluster of boulders, and stood precariously on the highest one. With her face lifted toward the sun, and her arms straight at her side and slightly behind her, she looked poised for flight.

Charlotte Greymore stood, shaking him out of his musings, and went to offer her congratulations to the competitors.

Greymore glanced at Jared and raised his brows. “Learn something?” he asked quietly.

“Von Barondy.”

Greymore nodded. Jared knew he would contact the Central Office. Another operative in the organization would discreetly investigate the viscount and send Jared word. He’d know where to go from there.

He redirected his attention to Elise Berkley on the rocks.
She turned with a sigh and leaped lightly down from the boulder. She joined Mrs. Greymore and was soon encircled by Mr. Bradford and Lord Druesdale, who alternately glared at one another and smiled at Elise. Druesdale said something to Elise, and her clear laugh rang out.

Jared stilled. When had he taken to calling her Elise? He almost groaned. Not a good sign. Smiling, she glanced his way, and the sight nearly undid him.

Definitely a very bad sign.

Elise stood at the window and watched her son stroll to the lake next to Jared Amesbury; a small boy with gangly limbs and blond hair that never quite allowed a comb to tame it, and a tall, broad-shouldered man who walked with unusual athletic grace. They stopped, turned, and faced each other. Mr. Amesbury crouched down to Colin’s eye level.

From this distance, she could not see their expressions, but Colin waved his hands about in his usual animated fashion. She could only speculate on their topic of discussion, or what the earl’s son must be thinking about Colin’s eager discourse. A moment later, Mr. Amesbury arose and resumed walking. Colin slipped his hand into Mr. Amesbury’s.

The gesture of affection made a lump rise in her throat. Turning away, she firmly shunned any thoughts that her son might need a father-figure. She liked her orderly life overseeing her son’s inheritance and managing the estate and the people upon it. She had no time for foolishness that included a man

Pirate indeed! His changeable nature gave no credence to any theory. One moment, he appeared the perfect gentleman—dignified, restrained, and polite. The next moment, a roguish grin lit his face, and his eyes shone wickedly. And whenever he addressed a child, gentleness softened his features. Yet through it all, wariness remained as if he lived continually poised to explode into action. Clearly, he was unpredictable and untrustworthy.

Elise met with the steward, forcing herself not to look at the clock, not to listen for signs that her son’s fishing companion had left, not to listen for his step.

Spending time with Mr. Amesbury would lead nowhere she wished to go.

She turned her attention to her correspondence. Had she ever found that task so tedious? After struggling through two letters, she laid down her pen and put on her bonnet. Going for a walk would do her good. And if she happened to walk by the lake … well … Colin might enjoy showing her the fruits of his labor. Certainly, she had no thought whatever of Mr. Amesbury.

When had she taken to lying?

Opening her parasol, she stepped outside and blinked in the bright sunlight. As she approached the lake, she paused, scanning the shoreline. Two figures sat in the shade of a giant oak tree at the edge of the lake.

Leaning against the tree trunk, Mr. Amesbury sat with her son tucked up under his chin, carefully working out a knot in Colin’s fishing line. His long legs were stretched out, one bent at the knee, his posture relaxed.

Her heart thudded at the thought of being in his presence again. They looked up at her approach. She returned Colin’s smile and glanced at Mr. Amesbury. A slow smile stole over his features. No wickedness danced in his eyes today. No aloof boredom. Only pure joy.

In that moment, she saw him not as a pirate, not as a proper gentleman; but as a man enjoying the simple pleasure of fishing with a boy. Warmth and softness stole over her.

Colin said, “Mother, I caught two fish, but then I tangled my line.”

Mr. Amesbury seemed to remember himself, and the
façade
of the aloof gentleman reappeared, as did that edge of watchfulness. “Mrs. Berkley.” He shifted and started to set Colin aside so he could rise.

She held out a hand. “Don’t get up on my account. May I join you?”

“Please.”

Within that cool reserve, a spark of genuine warmth lurked. Those aquamarine eyes followed her as she settled herself on the ground. His smile deepened before he returned his attention to the snarled fishing line.

Colin made no move to leave Mr. Amesbury’s lap for hers. Elise could not decide if that bothered her. Her son relaxed with his new friend as if he’d spent the whole of his life there.

With his arms around Colin, Mr. Amesbury’s focus remained riveted on the tangled line in his hands. His lashes hid his eyes, and a tiny frown creased his brow as he concentrated on the fishing line. Those large hands deftly untangled a knot Elise would have thought impossible.

“You did it,” Colin exclaimed.

“Amazing,” she said. “I would have cut off the knot and moved the hook.”

He grinned. “I enjoy a challenge.”

Colin unflinchingly impaled a worm on his hook, stood, and cast. The line made a graceful arc and landed with a tiny plop in the water and rings rippled outward. Colin resumed his seat on Mr. Amesbury’s lap. Unperturbed, Mr. Amesbury merely resettled Colin and rested his chin on top of his curly head. For a change, Colin didn’t wriggle like a puppy, but remained content to sit quietly within the circle of Mr. Amesbury’s arms, his eyes fixed upon the lake.

Afraid she’d break the magical spell by speaking, Elise observed them. No two people were more un-alike than Mr. Amesbury and Colin.  Mr. Amesbury’s skin was deeply tanned, his hair rich and dark, his features all square lines and hard angles, his body large and muscular. Colin, fair of skin and hair, with delicate features, and though of average size for a boy his age, he appeared decidedly fragile against the foil of Jared Amesbury.

No one would ever mistake them for father and son by their appearance, but at that moment, they appeared so much at ease together, one would assume they were some relation.

If only Edward could be here to see what a fine son he had. But then, Edward would never have spent the afternoon fishing with Colin. He would have considered the pastime unproductive. A shame. He would have missed some of the greatest joys of fatherhood.

She doubted Jared Amesbury would ever make that mistake with his own children. She could easily imagine him clamoring about with an adoring herd of dark-haired children.

Firmly stopping her thoughts from continuing down a road she did not wish them to venture, she pulled her eyes away from the magnetic gentleman, picked a sprig of jasmine and inhaled.

“What is that flower you are holding?” Mr. Amesbury asked.

“Jasmine.”

“Jasmine,” he repeated. “It smells good.”

Birdsong accompanied the comfortable silence and leaves murmured in a breeze.

“Do you have a son, Mr. Amesbury?” Colin asked presently.

“No.”

“Why not?”

Amusement touched Jared’s face. “I’ve not yet taken a wife.”

“But some men have sons even when they don’t have wives.”

Elise choked. Where had he heard such a thing?

Jared’s mouth twitched on one side. “Yes. Some do. But that comes with its own set of problems.”

“Don’t you want a son?”

Elise stifled a laugh.

“When the time is right.” He glanced at Elise, his gaze guarded. “Contrary to my apparent reputation, I do not leave by-blows in my wake everywhere I go.”

But Colin had gotten up to skip stones across the water and hadn’t heard that last comment.

Elise smiled with exaggerated sweetness. “How refreshing. My late husband would never have done that, of course, but many gentlemen of the beau monde think nothing of such disreputable behavior.”

His gaze caressed her. “I’m relieved you do not put me into the class of men with disreputable behavior.”

Though not close enough to Jared for any sort of impropriety, she felt his presence keenly, aware of his body’s every movement, every pull of his mouth. That mouth that had touched hers and brought it back to life.

She swallowed. “I did not say that.”

“What? That I’m a reprobate or that I’m not?”

“I have not yet decided.”

He chuckled softly.

Her heart made odd little skips, and her cheeks heated. She edged away. It didn’t help. She looked out over the lake. That didn’t help, either. What power did Jared hold over her?

She stilled. Jared? Mr. Amesbury, she meant, of course.

“What’s disrepa’ble behavior?” Colin asked, wandering back.

Elise’s face warmed as she wondered what else Colin had overheard. “Ungentlemanly conduct.”

Puzzled, Colin stared back at her.

“I’ll explain when you’re older.”

He sighed. “You always say that. You’ll be explaining a lot of stuff when I’m older.”

Jared laughed heartily. Colin settled back into Jared’s lap and picked up his pole.

As she suppressed a smile, her gaze slid to
Jared again. She almost regretted her decision to join her son and his disturbing fishing companion. However, she could not place the blame at his feet. He’d done nothing, said nothing, which would be considered as inappropriate. At least, not lately.

Jared, indeed! When had she become so familiar with him in her thoughts?

Colin straightened. “I think I got one.”

On their feet, Colin and Mr. Amesbury worked the taut line until a wriggling fish appeared. The fish flapped about madly until Mr. Amesbury’s large hands captured it.

He freed the hook from the fish’s mouth and held it up for Colin’s inspection. “Is this one big enough?”

“He’s a beauty,” Colin declared exuberantly. He turned to Elise. “Don’t you think so, Mother?”

“I agree. Well done, my love.”

The fish chose that moment to make a last desperate escape back into the lake. It shot out of Jared’s hands and flopped about on the bank with both the man and the child frantically trying to recapture it. Elise laughed until her sides protested.

Finally, they subdued the errant fish, and Mr. Amesbury added the new arrival to a rope threaded through the gills of two other fish at the edge of the lake. “I believe this has been a successful day of fishing, young Master Berkley.”

Elise realized then that only one fishing pole had been put to use. Jared’s leaned untouched against the tree. He put away the hook, wound up the lines and retrieved the poles.

Like the triumphant victor, Colin carried the fish as they turned back toward the house.

The cooper’s son ran up to him. “Colin! The cat in the dairy had kittens! We’ve only just found them. Their eyes are just starting to open. Come see?”

Colin turned to Elise with shining eyes. “May I go see the kittens with James, Mother?”

“Of course, love.”

His grin nearly split his face. He handed the fish to Jared and then paused. “You’ll stay for dinner, won’t you, sir?”

Elise hastened to interject, “Colin, Mr. Amesbury might already have a previous engagement.”

Jared’s gaze moved to meet hers, and for an instant, uncertainty flickered there. She realized she must have sounded as if she did not welcome him at their table.

Jared straightened,
the light in his eyes dimming. “With regret, Colin, I don’t believe—”

“You are certainly welcome to join us for dinner, Mr. Amesbury,” she broke in. “If your schedule allows.”

Colin turned to him beseechingly. Only a heartless cad could refuse those big blue eyes.

Mr. Amesbury grinned. “I can think of nothing I’d rather do than remain in your charming company, young sir.”

Colin flung his arms around Jared and hugged him before trotting off with the cooper’s son.

Jared stared after him as if dazed. He spoke in a hushed voice. “You have a remarkable son.”

“I must agree.” She fingered the tassel at the handle of her parasol. “I hope our invitation does not inconvenience you.”

He turned to her, his grin returning. How could such a masculine man be so beautiful? The sight of him smiling nearly sapped the strength right out of her knees.

“My alternative is to go home and have dinner at an empty table. I think I can bear to give that up for a bit of company.”

“We are rather informal here. I know it simply isn’t done, but unless I have guests, I usually eat dinner in the nursery with Colin.” She smiled. “
My
alternative is to have dinner at an empty table.”

He chuckled at her echo of his own words.

“I’m afraid he’s expecting you to join us in our usual fashion,” she added.

“Perfect.”

She eyed him, judging his sincerity. “In truth?”

“Nothing would please me more than to have an informal dinner with my newest young friend and his beautiful and charming mother.”

She looked away.

“Is it possible that you are unaccustomed to compliments, Mrs. Berkley?”

“They are empty and easily-given.”

“You speak of flattery. I speak of heart-felt compliments.”

She stopped and turned to him as an uncomfortable thought occurred to her. “You aren’t using Colin to court me, are you?”

He blinked, clearly taken aback. “You find me insincere? Or do you fail to see your son’s charm?”

She resumed walking, and he fell into step beside her. “Grown men don’t normally choose to keep company with a seven-year-old.”

He grinned. It came so easily to him. Edward had been a positive, optimistic person, but he hadn’t smiled so often or with such abundant joy. “He invited me to fish. How could I refuse?”

“Be serious.” Harshness crept into her voice.

He let out his breath. “I have been accused of many things, but using a child for my own agenda has never been one of them. I like Colin. I find him honest and uninhibited. He reminds me of my youngest brother, Christian, when he was a boy.”