“No, they wouldn’t have.”
“Yes, well,” he hemmed, his face brightening even more, his eyes falling from hers.
Fighting back a smile, she searched her memories of the conflict to help ease his embarrassment. Finally she lit on something. “I overheard my father discussing how American ships were seized and their sailors impressed into the British Navy. Did you experience any of that?”
Her distraction worked. His face relaxed, his eyes finding hers again. “Yes. As a matter of fact, I was nearly impressed myself.”
Her eyes widened. “How did you escape?”
Wry amusement lit his face. “Quincy hid me in a barrel of brandy.”
She gaped at him, her hand unconsciously going to his arm. “Surely you’re joking.”
His lips quirked. “You may ask him later if you like. It was only half full, but I was quite waterlogged when I emerged some hours later. As well as stinking drunk.”
A startled laugh escaped. “That must have been an interesting experience.”
“It was, and the reason I don’t imbibe in hard liquor to this day. A lurching ship and an aching head don’t mix, I assure you.”
They exchanged soft laughter, a moment of comfortable camaraderie passing between them. His eyes were warm on her face, wondering, as if he were seeing something in her that he hadn’t noticed before.
She felt as if she were melting under the admiration in that gaze, her very skin tingling with awareness. The sound of utensils scraping plates, the murmur of voices, the low rumble of laughter all faded.
Suddenly his gaze shifted down. It was only then she realized she still had her hand on his sleeve. Every sense centered on the feel of his forearm, warm and strong beneath her fingers.
A laugh sounded close by, shattering the mood. She jumped and pulled away. Focusing her attention back to her plate, she picked up her fork and poked at the barely touched partridge. “How did you all survive then?” she managed in an attempt to return to the easy conversation they’d been having before she’d gone and pawed at him.
He didn’t miss a beat, thank goodness. “The Adams children were too young to support their family. I talked the captain into letting Quincy and me oversee the running of their goods to Canada.”
He spoke the history with such simplicity that it took her a moment to realize what he meant by such a statement. The fork she’d been maiming the partridge with stilled. “Surely you don’t mean—”
He raised a brow. “Yes, Miss Hartley?”
She flushed, casting a surreptitious glance around before leaning in closer and lowering her voice. “Surely you’re not implying that you became a smuggler.”
He leaned in as well, lowering his voice to a mock whisper. “Aren’t I?”
She blinked. “Oh.”
His lips quirked at her shock. “It was that or starve, I’m afraid.”
She shot him a cautious glance. “And do you and Mr. Nesbitt still…smuggle?”
“Fearful of being in company with criminals, Miss Hartley?” he drawled.
“Not in the least; fascinated, is more like it,” she replied with utter honesty.
Again that warm, admiring look. “No, we’re no longer smugglers,” he replied. “A year or so after we began, we were nearly caught. Captain Adams would not hear of us endangering ourselves further.” He took a sip of his wine. “And so I suggested real estate. The other merchants were leaving Boston in droves. We took advantage, bought up the property they wished to be rid of, and thereby found ourselves in a very lucrative business.”
Lenora waited, but he took a healthy bite of fowl, seemingly content to finish his story in such a manner. She pursed her lips. “Why do I get the feeling that it was not as simple as you make it out to be?”
He smiled wryly down at his half-eaten meal. “You are very astute, Miss Hartley. Has anyone ever told you that?”
She smiled. “No, you’re the first. Though you cannot get out of answering the question with compliments, sir. Was it difficult convincing the family to abandon everything and to start anew?”
“It was.” He turned those incredible eyes on her, now intense with some emotion, as if he wanted desperately for her to understand something. “But I owed them everything. They saved my life. I couldn’t let them lose their entire livelihood without trying to save them as well.”
Something in his words struck her. Here was a man who did not take his debt to others lightly. She suddenly recalled the strange interactions between him and Lady Tesh. She had wondered if the viscountess had something over Mr. Ashford, something that was forcing him to do things he had no wish to.
