“Welcome home, Captain! The earl is in London at his house along with the lord and lady of Alcester, the lady Velvet and her bridegroom, the Scotsman. Shall I tell my lord that you’ll be coming?”
Murrough’s brain only registered that Robin and two of his sisters were here. “Do you have a horse, man?” he demanded of the servant.
“Aye, Captain. Over there. The bay with the Lynmouth livery.”
“I’ll need the loan of her,” Murrough replied, and without even waiting for an answer he hurried over to the animal and, mounting it, rode swiftly away.
Only when he was on his way did the words spoken by his brother’s servant penetrate his mind. “The lady Velvet and her bridegroom, the Scotsman.” Velvet married? When had that happened, and what would her parents have to say when they learned about it? He hurried the horse along the river road. It was early, and fortunately there were few people out and about as it was a raw and chilly day. Lynmouth House finally came into view, and he barely acknowledged the greeting of the gatekeeper as he galloped his mount through and up the driveway.
“Welcome home, Captain,” said the majordomo, hurrying forward as he entered the house. “His lordship is not up yet, but I shall inform him that you’re here.”
“Don’t bother,” came Murrough’s quick reply as he ran up the staircase. “I know my way to Robin’s apartments.”
“But, Captain …” The majordomo’s voice trailed off as Murrough disappeared at the top of the stairs.
“Captain O’Flaherty!” Robin’s valet bowed briefly as Murrough came through the door of the earl’s apartment. “Welcome home, sir.”
“Thank you, Kipp. Is his lordship still abed?”
“Aye, sir. ’Twas rather a late night.”
Murrough only chuckled. He put his hand on the bedchamber door.
“Captain!” Kipp looked uncomfortable. “His lordship isn’t alone.”
A smile split Murrough’s face. “I would hope not, Kipp!” He flung open the door and, striding in, called loudly, “Robin, you slugabed! Up with you now, and let’s have a look at the lass you’ve spent the night debauching.” Walking over to the bed, Murrough yanked back the bedcovers.
With a roar the Earl of Lynmouth leaped from his bed. Angel shrieked loudly and sought to cover herself. Murrough’s startled gaze took in her condition, her blond beauty, and the wedding ring on her finger. Then his brother hit him. “Ouch!” grunted Murrough, rubbing his jaw. “Is that any way to greet me, you young pup?”
Robin was now on his feet, and he stared at the big, shaggy man who stood before him. “Murrough? Is it you? Jesu, man, you gave us a start!”
“Did you think it was her husband then?” Murrough chortled.
“I’mher husband, you randy old seadog!” The earl laughed. “You’ve been away too long, big brother. I was wed last August by the queen’s own chaplain and in Her Majesty’s presence. This is my wife, Angel.”
Murrough O’Flaherty had the decency to look abashed, and he actually blushed. “Madame,” he began, “I do beg your pardon.”
Angel’s beautiful face was serious. “I do not know if I shall ever forgive you, sir,” she said, but her eyes were dancing with merriment, and, unable to restrain herself, she giggled mischievously, which turned Murrough’s woebegone expression back to a merry one.
“Oh, brother, I can see I shall have to get you aside so that you may tell me all about my husband’s bachelor adventures. Welcome home, Murrough O’Flaherty! Your sisters have told me much about you, but I can see that they don’t know the half of it!”
Murrough laughed. “Nay, madame, they don’t! Nor my good wife either! When is the babe due, for I can see my little brother has done his duty well by you.”
“In May,” she replied, and Murrough raised his eyebrows.
“You didn’t wait, did you, Rob?”
“For what?” came Robin’s laughing reply, and then the earl turned serious. “Murrough, what are you doing home? Are Mother and Adam with you?”
“Nay, Rob, and that is why I sought you out first when I learned you were in London. I had originally planned to go to the queen, but now that I think on it ’tis better we make our own plans before speaking with Her Majesty. Mother and Adam are being held captive by the Portuguese viceroy in Bombay. The only reason they aren’t dead is that they can pay a fat ransom to the Portuguese, and Mother made a huge fuss as well about the fact that she and Adam are members of the holy mother church. She made it sound like our uncle Michael O’Malley is about to be elected the next pope. The viceroy is surrounded by Jesuits, y’know, and the Jesuits are far too clever and political to offend a high churchman. Besides, they’ll get a goodly share of the ransom for their missionary work in India.”
“Can the viceroy be trusted to release Mother and Adam unharmed once we pay the ransom?” Robin asked.
“From what I could see of the viceroy, he’s a snake of the lowest order,” Murrough remarked, “but the Jesuits are honest enough as long as the ransom is paid.” Here Murrough allowed himself a small chuckle. “Mother’s piety is quite something to behold, Rob. I never knew she even possessed a rosary, and yet it is most visible on her person in Bombay, and she never misses an opportunity to finger it publicly. The viceroy’s chaplain is both enchanted and fascinated by both her and her beauty.”
“Is she all right, Murrough?”
“Aye, and quite in her element, too, little brother. I do believe she has been pining all these years for another high adventure, and none of us ever knew it. As for Adam, he’s ten years younger in appearance. They have lived the quiet life for Velvet’s sake, but I believe now that it was only for her that they gave up the sea.”
