“Regan,” James repeated with more force, beginning the old argument he’d had with each of his brothers over what nickname to call their niece, Regina—an argument that stemmed from a longtime insistence on James’s part to be different, go his own way, and follow his own rules. But they both realized at the same moment what they were doing and grinned.
But Anthony went a bit further. He conceded, “All right, Regan for tonight.”
James hit one ear with the palm of his hand. “I think there must be something wrong with my hearing.”
“Bloody hell,” Anthony said with a half growl, half chuckle. “Just get on with your story before I fall asleep. Ah, wait, here’s our second bottle.”
“You’re not thinking of getting me foxedagain, are you?”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Anthony said as he filled both their glasses to the brim.
“I believe that’s what you said the last time we were here at White’s, but as I recall, your friend Amherst had to carry us both home…in the middle of the afternoon. You never did tell what the little wife had to say about that.”
“Quite a bit, thank you, none of it worth repeating,” Anthony replied sourly.
James’s hearty laugh brought a number of stares to their table. “I honestly don’t know what’s happened to your finesse, dear boy. You’ve been in the lady’s bad graces ever since the second day of your marriage, simply because you couldn’t convince her that that little barmaid who’d squirmed all over your lap for those few minutes wasn’t yours for the evening. It was devilish bad luck that the wench left some yellow hair on your lapel for the wife to find, but didn’t you tell Roslynn you were only in that tavern on her behalf, searching for her Cameron cousin?”
“Certainly.”
“Then you still haven’t told her the wench was mine, not yours?”
Anthony shook his head stubbornly. “And I’m not going to, either. It should have been enough that I’d told her nothing happened, that the offer was made and I’d refused it. It’s still a matter of trust…but I believe we’ve had this conversation before, and right here, at that. Quit worrying about my love life, brother. My little Scottish bride will come around. I’m working on it in my own way. So let’s get back to your grand confession, shall we?”
James reached for his glass first, keeping pace with Anthony. “As I’d said, I was annoyed with Jason for refusing to let me even see Regan.”
“Was he supposed to have allowed it? You’d already been pirating for two years.”
“I may have been raising hell on the high seas, Tony, but I hadn’t changed personally. He knew bloody well I would have left behind anything to do with the Hawke had he allowed me to see her. But he’d disowned me for taking to the seas and disgracing the family as it were, though no one inside England or out knew Captain Hawke and James Malory, viscount of Ryding, were one and the same. Jason had made his stand and wouldn’t back down, so what was I to do? Never see her again? Regan’s like a daughter to me. We all raised her.”
“Youcouldhave given up pirating,” Anthony pointed out reasonably.
James grinned slowly. “Follow Jason’s dictates? When did I ever? Besides, I was having a devilish good time playing the pirate. There was the challenge, the danger, but more, I brought discipline back into my life, and for that matter, possibly saved my health. I’d been getting quite dissipated and jaded before I quit London. We’d had our fun, aye, but there was no challenge left save getting in some lady’s skirts, and even that no longer mattered when it came right down to it. Hell and fire, no one would even call me out anymore to alleviate the monotony, I’d gotten such a deadly reputation.”
Anthony burst out laughing. “You’re making my heart bleed, old man.”
James tipped the bottle this time. “Drink up, you ass. You’ve more sympathy when you’re drunk.”
“I don’t get drunk. Tried to tell the wife that, but she wouldn’t believe me. So you went to sea and lived the clean, healthy life of a pirate.”
“Gentleman pirate,” James corrected.
Anthony nodded. “Quite right. Shouldn’t miss the distinction. What is the distinction, by the way?”
“I’ve never sunk a ship, nor taken one without giving her a sporting chance. I’ve lost a lot of fat prizes that way, letting them elude me, but I never claimed to be a successful pirate, just a persistent one.”
“Confound you, James, it was only a game to you, wasn’t it? And you deliberately let Jason think you were out there raping and pillaging and feeding men to the sharks!”
“Well, why not? He’s not altogether happy unless he’s got one of us to condemn. And better me than you, since I don’t give a bloody damn, while you, on the other hand, do.”
“Now that’s a fine attitude to take,” Anthony said sarcastically.
“D’you think so?” James smiled and downed his drink. Anthony was quick to refill it. “But then it’s the same one I’ve always had.”
“I suppose,” Anthony conceded reluctantly. “You were defying and deliberately provoking Jason for as long as I can remember.”
James shrugged. “So what is life without its little stimulations, dear boy?”
“I think you just enjoy seeing Jason fly through the roof. Admit it.”
