The Guise of a Gentleman (9 page)

He considered. “No.”

“They are bad men, Colin, without loyalty or friend. And they do terrible things to their victims.”

Colin remained silent for a moment. In a very small voice he said, “Some of them are good men. Mr. Amesbury is.”

Elise looked out over the lake and chose her words carefully. “It’s possible Mr. Amesbury served as a privateer or as an officer on board a ship of His Majesty’s Navy during the war instead of being a real pirate. If so, he served king and country. He may only have been playing with you when he said all that about being a pirate. If you remember, you asked him if he were a pirate. That was not information he volunteered.”

“I guess so. But I’m sure he really was captain of his own ship.”

She smoothed a flaxen curl away from his forehead. “Why do you say that, my love?”

Colin cocked his head to the side “He walks like a captain and talks like he expects everyone to obey him.”

Elise nodded. She’d ceased to be surprised by her young son’s astute observations. For a child his age, he had a better grasp of the nature of people than many adults. She agreed with Colin; Jared Amesbury certainly possessed a commanding, authoritative air.

But then, he’d been born the son of an earl, so perhaps that demeanor came with his breeding. However, second sons often did not reflect the same self-assured stance as heirs, unless they held a position of leadership.

“I believe you’re right. He probably was captain or at least a high ranking officer,” she conceded. “However, he’s a kind gentleman; I can’t imagine him doing the deplorable acts pirates commit.”

“No, he wouldn’t hurt anyone. May I invite him to fish?”

Elise swallowed, uncertain why the thought of having the charismatic Jared Amesbury in her safe haven on the estate filled her with mingled anticipation and dread. With the glaring exceptions of the stolen kiss, and parts of their conversation at Lily’s dinner party, he’d behaved the perfect gentleman. Sunday past, he’d conducted himself with absolute propriety. And the way he’d treated Colin left her with no reservations about allowing him to spend time with Colin. Instinctively, she knew he was honorable.

A tiny part of her missed the irrepressible rogue who made suggestive innuendos with merely a glance and stole kisses. With warmth flooding her cheeks, she quickly suppressed that indecent thought.

“Please, Mother? After church you said he might come fish with me.”

“You’re right, son. A person must always keep one’s word. Very well, ask Mrs. Robbins when your schedule will best allow for a fishing outing and you may write a letter inviting Mr. Amesbury—after your studies are completed and your tutor is satisfied, understand?”

He nodded vigorously.

She glanced at Mrs. Robbins over Colin’s golden head and received a nod in acknowledgement. To Colin, Elise said, “Mr. Amesbury may be too busy, so we must respect his time.”

“Yes, Mother!” He let out a whoop and ran toward the house.

Elise smiled as he ran and skipped.

Colin turned and called, “Coming, Nurse?”

“Coming, young Master Berkley.” Mrs. Robbins grinned at Elise. “Do you wish me to arrange a time when you can join them?”

“No,” Elise answered too quickly. She adjusted her tone to one of serenity. “No, don’t concern yourself with my schedule. Just accommodate Mr. Amesbury’s. I will join them if I am able.”

Mrs. Robbins nodded, dropped a quick curtsey and went after an impatient Colin. Elise made a mental note to be far too busy to join a fishing party including Mr. Amesbury. She liked her safe, predictable world with no unexpected surprises.

A capricious, unpredictable man like Mr. Amesbury would only turn it upside down.

Inside Greymore’s study, Jared sipped a port. “The informant could be anyone who has access to the records. It could be even the lowliest clerk.”

“And you’re sure the leader, this
O Ladrão
, is a member of the nobility here in this area?” Greymore asked.

“Without a doubt. The trail led here.”

Greymore stared out the window, swirling his drink. “How many other Secret Service Agents do you know?”

Surprised at the sudden change of topic, Jared swiftly considered his response. Seeing no harm in the truth he replied, “Three others besides you. Rebecca, for one.”

Greymore nodded soberly. “I didn’t know she was an agent until after she’d been executed.”

Jared sat with forced casualness but his hand shook slightly. “I begged her to leave when she thought Boney had grown suspicious, but he always confided so much to her that she wanted to see what other information she could coax out of him.”

The information she’d seduced out of Napoleon had been instrumental in a number of key battles won against the French troops. Some had speculated the Corsican Monster might have won the war if he’d been more cautious about what he told his various mistresses.

“Her efforts were not in vain.” Greymore eyed him as if searching for signs of grief.

Jared met his gaze blandly, confident his practiced mask of indifference remained in place even while thoughts of Rebecca overcame him. Her death had come as a crushing blow.

Jared tamped down the memories. “Why do you ask?”

Greymore shook his head, looking weary. “Just curious. I’ve known few. Most were killed during the war. Others, like me, have more or less retired. You’re weary of it, too, aren’t you?”

Jared uttered a short laugh. “I can’t wait to finish this last assignment and walk away. Far away.”

A footman entered. “Mrs. Greymore wishes me to inform you your guests await.

“Tell her I’ll be right with her.” Greymore turned to Jared with a wry smile. “Shall we join the others?”

Jared nodded. “This may be a good opportunity. One never knows when a careless word might slip, and a riding party may be a casual enough affair to loosen tongues. If Lady Fortune smiles upon me.”

Greymore donned a riding coat and hat. “Any suspicions?”

“At this point, no one is above suspicion. In particular, Lord Von Barondy. Something about that man seems off.”

“Von Barondy. A viscount. Generally, he’s well- respected.”

“A friend?”

“Acquaintance, merely. Not that I’d let it interfere with an investigation.”

Jared nodded. Greymore would scrutinize a friend with the same professionalism as a stranger. “There was something evasive about him at Lady Standwich’s dinner party.”

“His wife is extravagant. Few men could afford to keep her. Could be a motive, I suppose, although most gentlemen just build up a mountain of debt and make token payments. He’s in the riding party today.” Greymore opened the door.

“Excellent.”

Voices and laughter spilled from the front parlor. Following Greymore, Jared automatically scanned the faces of those in attendance, and out of habit, noted the location of every door and window. Someone stepped aside and Jared’s gaze fell on Elise Berkley. Wearing a dark green riding habit, she sat on the far side of the room, talking with Greymore’s wife. His heartbeat quickened, and he found himself standing in front of her.

He greeted the hostess first. “You’re looking lovely as usual, Mrs. Greymore.”

“How kind of you to say. And thank you for joining us today.” Mrs. Greymore greeted him politely, but her eyes were only for her husband.

Greymore and his wife gazed at each other with such affection that an uncharacteristic sense of emptiness surfaced in Jared.

Greymore’s young wife returned her attention to Jared and
she smiled graciously. “Mr. Amesbury, I believe you’re acquainted with my friend, Mrs. Berkley?”

Elise Berkley regarded him with heightened curiosity and deep speculation, as if she’d recently learned something new about him and couldn’t quite decide if it were true.

“I have had the distinct pleasure.” Careful to keep his expression and tone benign, Jared inclined his head.

Mrs. Berkley maintained her assessing perusal. Jared raised a brow. Few English ladies would look so boldly upon a gentleman. He returned the stare. The creamy radiance of her skin seemed to create a light of its own, beckoning him, guiding him to her like a lighthouse guides lost sailors. Her lips parted, and the image turned more sensual. Her tongue slid out to moisten her lips, but she seemed to realize her action would draw attention to her mouth, and pulled her tongue back inside. She lowered her eyes, not in a false attempt to appear demure, but out of discomfort, if her slow blush were any indication. Though her beauty rivaled that of any temptress, her sweetness dashed any hope of proving himself worthy of her attention. No scoundrel such as he had a prayer of winning the favor of an angel.

Not that it mattered; he had no intention of developing an attachment which risked distracting him from his assignment. Or leaving him vulnerable to his enemies.

Mrs. Greymore turned to two other ladies seated nearby. “And of course you remember Mrs. Hogan and her daughter
, Libby?”

Jared affected a slight bow to the lady and her very young daughter. “Delighted to see you again. It was a pleasure hunting with your husband last week.”

Mrs. Hogan smiled. “He spoke well of you, Mr. Amesbury.”

Recognizing the matchmaking glint in her eye and the way she purposefully glanced at her daughter, Jared bowed again, excused himself and made a strategic retreat, annoyed that it took him away from the lovely Mrs. Berkley.

As the party headed outside to their waiting horses, Jared watched Lord Druesdale work his way through the crowd to Mrs. Berkley’s side.

“Mrs. Berkley, if I may have the honor?” Lord Druesdale offered his arm.

Mrs. Berkley took it without a second look at Jared and allowed him to help her mount her horse.

Jared gritted his teeth and squelched his sudden irritation. It mattered not whom Mrs. Berkley favored. And he would work better without pleasant distractions.

As Jared mounted Aries, he noted with satisfaction that Von Barondy had indeed joined the riding party. While the group headed out across the fields, Jared maneuvered Aries away from the Hogan family and edged near Von Barondy. He listened to idle conversation around him, paying special attention to anything involving Viscount Von Barondy.

Lord Druesdale’s attention remained fixed upon Mrs. Berkley. She answered his questions graciously, and even posed a few thoughtful questions of her own. However, she showed him no special preference.

Why Jared noticed, he refused to examine too closely. He certainly didn’t care. He had come here to fulfill an assignment. Then he’d try to start a new life without the Secret Service, pirates, or intrigue.

He idly scanned the terrain and vegetation, his ears trained on the conversation, but the discussions remained on politics and the races and other manly subjects. Nothing regarding shipping, nor pirates, nor business arose.

Greymore, riding next to Von Barondy, called to Lord Druesdale. After an apology to Mrs. Berkley, Druesdale eased his horse back to ride beside his host and the viscount.

Mrs. Berkley looked out over the horizon, as if she longed to be in another place far, far away. Where did she long to go? Mr. Bradford, a widower he’d met days earlier, often watched her as well, his mouth working as if trying to muster the nerve to speak to the lady. Clearly both Bradford and Druesdale had good sense.

Against his better judgment, Jared maneuvered next to her. “Mrs. Berkley, I received an invitation from your son to join him fishing at my earliest convenience.”

She glanced at him but quickly averted her eyes. “He’ll understand if you are indisposed, Mr. Amesbury.” She spoke politely, but without any true warmth.

He chose to ignore both her tone and his desire to discover the reason behind it. Instead he quirked an irreverent grin. “What? And lose my excuse to spend an afternoon in indolence?”

After another brief glance, she smiled faintly.

He tried again. “Perhaps I merely flatter myself, but I believe Colin would be disappointed if I failed to fish with him.”

“He would indeed.” Again, she kept her gaze averted.

Curious as to why the lady who’d looked so boldly at him moments ago now refused to make eye contact, Jared looked down. His clothing all appeared proper; tasteful, fashionable yet understated with the classic buff breeches, understated waistcoat and Oxford blue coat. Even the cravat remained undisturbed. His boots shone from the attention Gibbs had shown them. He’d even left his weapons at home. Most of them.

“Have I something stuck in my teeth?” He bared his teeth at her.

That won him a startled look of puzzlement. Her eyes focused on his mouth before darting away. “No.”

He hesitated, dismayed how much her opinion mattered and how her coolness left him bereft. In a hushed voice, he asked, “What have I done to offend you?”

“Nothing.” She continued to pointedly keep her eyes off him, but an expression akin to distress flickered over her features.

At a loss, Jared waited, but she made no further comment. Why this seemed so important to him, he could not begin to guess. “Would you tell me if I had?” he asked gently.

Her eyes shot to him again, but this time her gaze lingered as if she tried to divine his character, but feared to truly see it. “You’re very candid.”

“I am.” He stared unseeing over the landscape. “I was as a child, too. My father despaired of my impetuous nature and my unfashionable habit of speaking my mind.”

Strange that he’d find a career which required that he speak more lies than truth when his nature begged to be forthright. But he had not exactly chosen his present career; rather it chose him. And he did take a certain delight in playing a role.

Jared glanced at Mrs. Berkley. Something about her awoke a long-denied desire to express his thoughts. A desire to confide. A desire he’d smothered for years in order to stay alive.

He added, “Perhaps you bring out the candid side of me. You were uncomfortably honest regarding your opinion of me the first time we met.”

Her beguiling lips twitched in amusement. “Your actions demanded swift retribution.”

“No doubt. But underneath your serene exterior is an articulate and intelligent woman who does not hesitate to express herself. I find that strangely refreshing.”

“Most men find it strange and annoying.”

He chuckled. “Men with small minds are threatened by intelligent women.”

“And your mind is expansive?”

“I’ve discovered intelligence does not only smile on one gender. In fact, women seem to have a certain intuition that often eludes men.”

Mrs. Berkley turned her head and looked him fully in the eye. Speechless, he beheld her radiant beauty. For a fleeting moment, a haunted look entered her eyes, as if something caged begged for freedom. Perhaps she was trapped alone in her world of etiquette. Then she shut the expression behind a carefully constructed mask of serenity.

“You have a most generous attitude, Mr. Amesbury.”

He quirked a grin. “Does that mean you’ll fish with us?”

She turned away, a smile touching her lips. “Perhaps.”

“You aren’t speaking freely anymore.”

A tiny frown creased her brow and she held her luscious lower lip between her teeth. He’d never wanted so badly to kiss a woman. Here. Now. In public.

But that would scandalize her and he’d lose all chances of…

Of what? He wasn’t sure exactly what he wanted, but stealing another kiss certainly wouldn’t attain it.

Her serious grey eyes returned to him. “Will you give me an honest answer if I ask you a direct question?”

“I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

“Who were those men threatening you? And why?”

He stilled. Anything but that.

He’d distracted her the last two times she asked him that question, but he suspected she wouldn’t be satisfied until she had a believable answer.

“Leandro and his right hand man, Santos, have been trying to kill me for years. Leandro blames me for the death of his half-brother, Macy. He also believes—erroneously—that I withheld some of the plunder our ship took during the war, and that I secretly hid it away instead of turning it over to the prize courts or dividing it up with the crew.”

“Your ship? You were in the navy?”

“A privateer.”

She nodded, and her expression seemed to relax as if she’d feared a different answer. Had she expected him to tell her he’d really been a pirate, and, in a way, still was?

He fidgeted with the reins. “When you came upon us, he was trying to force me to give up the coordinates of the island where he thinks the cache was hidden.”

“You mean like pirate’s treasure?” She looked more intrigued than disapproving.