“Do you think they’ll recognize me in the village?” Chev asked.
“I don’t know,” Emmaus replied. “You were already weathered when we met. I assume you looked quite different before your years at sea.”
Chev nodded. “Right.”
So, possibly he’d be recognized. But possibly not.
And every additional day he spent the risk he’d be revealed increased.
“You went to Ithwick last evening,” Emmaus said.
Chev swallowed. “I delivered Thaddeus home.”
“She saw you, you know.”
Chev stopped breathing.
“That is to say she saw a man with Lord Thaddeus crossing into the gardens.”
He exhaled.
“Did she ask pointed questions?”
“Just the usual,” Emmaus replied. “But she will. She misses little.”
Chev bristled. “How well do you know my wife?”
“Well enough.” Emmaus raised his brows. “Better than you, if you believe either of us would betray you—or if you truly believed Anthony’s assertion she wishes to wed.”
“I apologize to you,” Chev replied. “As for Anthony—I heard her court my cousin with my own ears.”
Emmaus snorted. “He that hath ears let him hear.”
“I wish you wouldn’t do that.”
“Quote scripture?”
Chev had meant see through him, actually. He nodded anyway.
“It’s how I learned to read.” Emmaus shrugged. “Now that you’re here—”
“Iam not here.”
“Which brings us back to your intent, does it not? Why exactly are youhereandnot here?”
“I don’t yet know if Icanstay, even if I wished to.” Chev sighed roughly. Not only was he a different man, he wasn’t certain he’d ever be able silence the pirate’s whispers. Not without hunting her down. “I—I have unsettled debts. But”—he fixed Emmaus with an even gaze—“something is wrong, here. And I don’t intend to leave until I am sure Penelope and Thaddeus will be safe.”
“I’ve felt something was wrong since I first met Lady Cheverley at the trial.” Emmaus nodded slowly. “Later, she told me Anthony had gone white when he found out about your amended will.”
“It’s Pensteague he wants? Why? It’s worth a fraction of Ithwick, barely self-sustaining.”
“Perhaps,” Emmaus replied, “he just wants Lady Cheverley.”
Chev considered, and then shook his head. “He values his bloodlines too much. He wants something more—something worth the sacrifice of marrying a farmer’s daughter.”
“A farmer’s daughter whose son will one day be a duke.”
“My father insisted on family guardianship—I’d rest easier if Thaddeus’s fate were not in Lord Thomas’s hands—what do you know of his intentions?”
