A while later, Jeremy remarked, “You know, if this is actually a suitor of yours, he had time to call on you for any farewelling in a nice, safe parlor. Didn’t that occur to you?”
“My beaus get turned away at the door, so he couldn’t. He might have tried, then left the note instead.”
“No callers a’tall? Hell’s bells, Jack, I thought you were going to have a normal Season. This doesn’t sound the least bit normal.”
“I am, and I was, but—”
“Never mind, there’s nothing normal about the number of your suitors, either. You’re going to force Artie and Henry to retire, you know, if they’ve been having to slam the door shut so often.”
“Nonsense, those two old salts love slamming doors. They complained when they had to let my suitors in!”
Jeremy tsked. “I would have thought you, of all women, would have had no trouble a’tall dismissing the men you aren’t interested in marrying. You’re certainly not known for being subtle, Jack.”
“Nor was I. I warned them I’m not considering marriage proposals this year. They’re just being stubborn. So it’s not my fault if they figure out too late that when I say something, I bloody well mean it.”
“Did I strike a nerve? Or are you nervous?”
“Neither, but maybe you can tell me why a man thinks he can change a woman’s mind about him simply by persevering?”
“You’re joking, right? A no never discouraged me, it merely made me more charming.”
“So it’s just the chase that keeps men interested? Or more likely the competition in this case?”
“Probably both, but foremost, it’s simply you, minx. You’re the prime catch of the Season. It would also be the coup of the century for a young buck to marry James Malory’s daughter without getting trounced first.”
She laughed. “There is that, I suppose.”
“But what if you’ve got it all wrong,” Jeremy persisted, “and we only have to contend with an obnoxiously determined suitor. D’you actually favor this fellow above the others?”
She grinned. “I told you. He piqued my interest because he posed a mystery, professing to want to win my heart but refusing to give me his name. I’d like to solve that mystery before he leaves England.”
“Hell’s bells, Jack!” Jeremy stared at her for a moment before he shook his head. “You’re being played. Sounds like something I might have done if I was determined when I was still chasing skirts. He’s worked his way to the top of that ridiculously high stack of yours, hasn’t he? So his ploy worked. And I’m going to bloody well pummel him m’self if he’s lured you to the docks just to get you alone, away from his competition. He probably wants to steal a kiss before—have they been stealing kisses?”
Suddenly Jeremy looked quite angry. Jacqueline chuckled. “Course they have—well, course they’ve tried—but I’m not interested in kissing yet. Even had to sock Lord Giles to get that point across a few weeks ago. Blackened his eye and didn’t feel the least sorry for it, though I did accept his apology the next day. But when I’m ready for kissing, I’ll likely be the one stealing them, so you needn’t worry about that.”
“That’s supposed to put my mind at ease?” Jeremy snorted with a roll of his eyes, but said no more about it.
Chapter Nine
THE DOCKS BUILT ATWapping were well protected with high walls surrounding them. Ships had to pass through basins to get from the Thames River to the dock’s fancy warehouses, which housed only luxury goods. But to find the old stairs that accessed the river at high tide, Jeremy and Jack’s guards had to follow the winding road outside the large enclosed docks to get to Wapping Street, which ran along the riverbank. The street was high enough above the tidewater mark to offer extensive views of the ships on the water, some already sailing toward the Channel. Even this far from the dock entrance a few vehicles were going in both directions.
“Are you still hoping this is legit, Jack?” Jeremy asked.
“Oh, no, I’m hoping it’s not.”
To come face-to-face with Bastard again, to finally have her revenge, that was going to be a sweet dream come true. She would never have guessed that he was behind this new plot if she hadn’t finally recognized his handwriting in that longer note he sent today. At her insistence, her father had showed her the ransom note that the Andersons retrieved from the post office the night she was abducted in Bridgeport. She didn’t have that ransom note so she couldn’t compare it to the one that had been delivered today, but she was almost positive the writing was the same. And “almost” was enough to convince her to come prepared to this meeting and turn the tables on Bastard—if it was him.
She was still fuming over his success at tricking her by wearing that blond wig and a mask that covered his face and muffled his voice. And he’d obviously studied his betters because his gentlemanly manners had deceived her.
If it was him, Jack would prefer to just shoot him, but Jeremy had convinced her that Bastard might have valuable information about his boss and where he was located, information that could help their father. They could send it to him and Drew posthaste in the Caribbean. So Jeremy had persuaded her that the best course of action would be interrogation first—brutal she hoped—then a quick ride to prison, where Bastard would await trial and the gallows.
But if it wasn’t him—damnit, she really did hope her mystery man wasn’t a legitimate suitor despite how much he’d intrigued her. She’d rather have revenge tonight.
They passed a set of stairs where two women and a child had just been rowed ashore from a passenger ship and were waiting for their baggage and probably hoping to hail a passing hackney carriage as well. But with the enclosed docks, it was not an ideal place to come ashore. Most passenger ships that were going to unload prior to getting cleared for a berth did so near wharves where vehicles for hire were more easily obtained. But the river was extremely congested, and captains couldn’t always anchor in ideal spots.
The next set of stairs was quite a distance farther up the street, but as they approached, they could see a man standing at the top of them. If there was a plaque on the wall next to the stairs naming them, they couldn’t yet see it. The vehicle behind them was following closely and had only just cut in front of Jack’s mounted guards and would probably have passed Jeremy’s chaise if a coach up ahead weren’t blocking the other side of the road, making it too dangerous to attempt. But Jeremy waved at it to pass them when he began to slow his chaise.
“At least Percy came through,” he said with a grin, seeing the coach that had stopped a little ways beyond where the lone man was standing, his back turned toward them.
