A breeze, ripe with the scent of hibiscus and the sea, flowed through tall open windows.Several exquisitely carved chairs sat between small tables that surrounded a plush upholstered settee.Imported tapestries lined the wall beside paintings of what looked like the French countryside.A fireplace sat on one end, a harpsichord at the other, while rays of sunlight cast gleams across the marble floor.
Montverre sat in a high-backed chair, his hand in the air, his chin lifted, and his grin predatory.Two liveried servants entered, silver trays in hand, setting cups of steaming chocolate, thick and spiced with cinnamon, onto the side table.
“Bienvenue,mes amis.”Montverre rose and ushered them in, gesturing toward the refreshments.“Do help yourselves.You will find that here, even the simplest refreshment is…elevated.”
Plates of candied pineapple, sugared orange peel and golden brioches graced the buffet table beside ornate bowls overflowing with fresh mangoes and plantains.Quite the impressive display.
Caleb’s stomach soured.Before he could inquire as to the purpose of this meeting, Geneviève entered, silk skirts whispering over the floor.Leaning, she kissed her father’s cheek.But her hopeful eyes were on Caleb.
Desi snapped her hand from his arm and retreated to a seat near the door.Liam made his way to the sideboard of delights, while Alden stood by Desi, arms crossed over his chest.
“We are here at your invitation, Monsieur le Marquis.For what purpose?”
“Ah, you English are sogrossier…boorish… or is it the sailor’s life that has caused you to lose the manners of your class?”
Caleb fisted his hands, longing to punch the supercilious grin off the man’s face.“This may not be the proper time, but I wish to speak with you about the night the Spanish militia attacked our mission.”
“Non.This is not the time,Capitaine.”Montverre waved away the thought, the lace at his cuffs fluttering, and resumed his seat.
Geneviève cast a furtive glance at Caleb before sitting on the settee beside her father.“Perhaps you should hear him out, Papa.I so long for you and Captain Hyde to become friends again.”Drawing her lips into a pout, she cocked her head in that captivating way Caleb had once loved.
Apparently, it had the same effect on Montverre, for he smiled, his gaze adoring.“Very well,mon trésor.”Then looking up at Caleb, he rose and gestured to the door.“Shall we retreat to my study where we can discuss this in private?”
Alden took a step forward, shaking his head.“I would advise against that, Captain.”
Montverre laughed.“I am a gentleman.You have my word no harm will come to him.”
“’Tis not him I’m worried about,” Alden replied, one brow arched.
Chuckling, Liam set down his cup of hot chocolate.
Montverre frowned.
Miss Starr’s eyes were on Geneviève, who perched like a regal princess, hands folded in her lap, head held high.
“Lead the way, Monsieur.”Caleb gestured toward the door.He loathed being alone with the man, but if ’twas the only way to drag the truth out of him, so be it.
The marquis gave a forced grin before facing his daughter.“Entertain our guests in my absence,ma chère.”
“Of course, Papa.”
Montverre brushed past Caleb, drowning him in the scent of amber and musk.
“Liam, Alden,” Caleb addressed his men.“Keep watch over Miss Starr.”
Both men nodded as the lady’s eyes finally met his.Fear skittered across them, fear and an affection he’d longed to see of late.So, shedidharbor feelings for him, after all.
She reached for him, and he took her hand, bent, and placed a kiss upon it.
“Be careful.”Her whisper, so full of love and care, burrowed into his heart.
Chapter 21: The Order of the Temple
“I must know the truth, Montverre.What was your part in the militia raid?Were you aware of their plans or…mayhap did you organize it yourself?”Caleb followed the marquis into a large room that bore the unmistakable stamp of French aristocracy.Velvet crimson curtains framed tall windows through which spears of sunlight struck polished mahogany and rosewood.
Snorting, the marquis moved to stand behind an immense desk of dark walnut, its surface crowded with quills, inkwells, ledgers and a brass compass and sextant.Shelves of books lined the wall to Caleb’s right while a pair of globes stood nearby.
Drawing in a deep breath, Caleb nearly choked on the heavy scent of tobacco, amber perfume, and the musky odor of old parchment and wax.
