“Easily, but—”
James didn’t let him finish. “There, you see, Connie? You were worried over nothing.”
“Cap’n—?”
“I won’t have to go anywhere near the harbor.”
“Merde!” Henry was finally heard from as he glowered at his friend. “When will you tell him,mon ami?After he has entered the tiger’s house?”
“That’s lion’s ’ouse, ’Enry, and what do ye think I’ve been tryin’ to do, eh?”
They had James’s full attention again after that. “It’s lion’s den, gentlemen, and if I am to enter one, I suppose I must assume I’m missing something pertinent. What would that be?”
“Just that it’s the girl’s family what owns them Skylark ships, ’er brothers that sail ’em.”
“Bloody hell,” Connie mumbled, while James started laughing.
“By God, that’s irony for you. She said she owned a ship, but I’ll be damned if I believed her. Thought she was just being lippy again.”
“Appears she was being modest instead,” Connie said. “And there’s nothing funny about it, James. You can’t very well—”
“’Course I can. I’ll just have to choose a time when she’s likely to be alone.”
“That won’t be today, Cap’n. They’re givin’ a sorry tonight.”
“A soiree?”
“Aye, one o’ them. ’Alf the town’s been invited.”
“To celebrate the whole family is home,” Henry added. “Such an occurrence apparently does not happen often.”
“I can see now what took you so bloody long,” James said in disgust. “I send you to locate the wench, and you come back with her family history. All right, what else will I find of interest? I don’t suppose you discovered what she was doing in England, by any chance?”
“Lookin’ for ’er intended.”
“Her intended what?”
“Her fiancé,” Henry clarified.
James sat forward slowly. All three of his companions recognized the signs. If he’d been in a simmering rage since they’d left Jamaica, it was nothing compared to what that single word just did to him.
“She…has…a…fiancé?”
“No longer,” Henry quickly explained.
“She found ’im wed to an English wench, and after she’d waited six years for—Ouch! Jesus, ’Enry, that’s my bleedin’ foot ye’re steppin’ on!”
“It should be your mouth,mon ami!”
“She…waited…six…years?”
Artie flinched. “Well, ’e got ’imself impressed, Cap’n, and then the war…They didn’t know what became o’ the lad until earlier this year. It ain’t common knowledge, at least that she went searchin’ for ’im. ’Enry ’ad to sweet talk one o’ the ’ousemaids—”
“Six years,” James said again, but this time to himself. In a louder voice he added, “Sounds like George was very much in love, don’t it, Connie?”
“Damn me, James, I can’t believe you’re letting that bother you. I’ve heard you say a number of times that a woman on the rebound makes for a splendid tumble. And you didn’twantthe brat falling in love with you, did you? It always annoys the hell out of you when they do.”
“Quite so.”
