An ache had begun behind her eyes. “What was what like?”
“When he rescued you. Was he terribly brave like everyone is saying?”
Samantha scanned the crowd for her uncle. Surely they could leave, now that the governor’s little publicity stunt was over. “Sure.”
Abigail let out a huff. “Sure? That’s all you can say? The most dashing man in Savannah rescued you and all you can say is ‘sure’?”
Something hardened inside Samantha as she spun back to her friend. “I was locked in a brig, in a dirty cell with nothing but a bucket to relieve myself. I didn’t witness any of it. There was nothing dashing or brave about it. Men died.”
Abigail’s eyes widened. “I—I . . .”
Samantha pressed her fingers to her temple. Abigail didn’t deserve her frustration.
“I’m sorry. My head hurts something fierce. I need to find my uncle.”
She turned and pushed into the throngs of dancers. Uncle Henry stood near the refreshment table and frowned when she approached. “Are you alright, dear?”
Her teeth clenched together as she fought tears. She’d been forced to endure Christian’s company, quarreled with her best friend. No. She was not alright.
“Can we go home?”
His frown morphed into a look of concern and he glanced past her to the dance floor. For a moment, his gaze hardened. Then he nodded and offered his arm.
As they made their way toward the door, the music wound down and the governor cleared his throat.
“Ladies and gentlemen, upstanding citizens of Savannah . . .”
She rolled her eyes.
“I’ve just received some wonderful news. As you know, our beloved Lieutenant Thompson...”
Whatever the governor had to say about thebelovedlieutenant, she had no desire to hear. She tugged her uncle’s arm. But he slowed and turned his attention to the front of the room. Blast it.
“Has been instrumental in the national campaign against piracy. I’ve just received word that ships and extra men have arrived fromWashington. President Jefferson has directed the lieutenant to focus all his attention on capturing the two most notorious pirates out there, Captains Thorne and Remington. Soon, the dastardly criminals will meet their fate and the waters will be safe again.”
Her uncle stiffened, then pulled her toward the door. Her throat burned as the crowd applauded. All the more reason to stay away from him. For good.
As they swept outside, the hairs on her neck lifted. She balled her hands into fists. No looking back. But she couldn’t stop her head, the quick glance behind her.
His eyes glinted in the light. Dangerous. Predatory. For a split second, they were the only two in the room, two adversaries staring each other down. A chill ran up her spine.
Enemies.
“Samantha?” Her uncle’s voice broke the spell and she lifted her chin and turned into the night.
Silence filled the carriage the whole way home. Fine with her. She leaned against the window, rubbing her pounding temples.
When they drove up the drive, several footmen raced out to meet them. “Mr. Warstein, come quickly.”
Her uncle jumped to the ground and Samantha scrambled out after him, yanking up her skirts to keep up.
The butler met them on the steps, his face drawn tight.
Her uncle frowned. “What’s wrong?”
“We’ve been robbed.”
*
