They carried her to her upstairs room, and then she was set down on her feet. She swayed and nearly fell. The rope at her knees was removed, and the sack lifted off. But the little room was so dark, its windows boarded up, that she had trouble seeing for a moment.
A deep breath of air was her first order of business. Then she focused on the three men, her captors and the boy, moving toward the door. The younger one was looking at her over his shoulder, his mouth hanging open.
“Just a minute,ifyou please,” she called to the departing men. “I demand to know why I was brought here.”
“The cap’n will be tellin’ ye that when ’e gets ’ere, m’lady.”
“And who is the captain?”
“No need for names,” the brawnier of the two answered, offering a placating tone in response to her haughty one.
“Yet I know your name, Artie. And I know your name, Henri. I even—” She stopped before telling them she had sketched both of them. “I wish to know why I am here.”
“Ye’ll ’ave to wait and talk to the cap’n. Now, there’s a lamp there on the table, and ye’ll be fed shortly. Just settle down and make yourself comfy-like.”
She swung around, furious, her back to them. The door closed and a key was turned in the lock. She let out a sigh. Where had she gotten the nerve to act so hoity-toity? They were sinister-looking characters despite their bantering manner and placating voices. Well, at least she hadn’t shown them any fear. They wouldn’t see a Malory cringe. That was a huge satisfaction.
She sat down warily on a rickety chair, wondering forlornly if that might just be her last moment of satisfaction for a long while.
Chapter 24
THE food was delicious, even in Reggie’s nervous state. She ate her fill of squab pie, rice pudding, and saffron cakes. There was a delicate wine, too. But once the distraction of dining was over, she went back to worrying.
Henri had brought her the food. He had put on a very rakish ruffled silk shirt; black breeches with high, wide-topped boots; and a long, coatlike vest. Good Lord, all he lacked was an earring. He had even shaved everything except his tightly curled mustache. Why?
Whathadshe gotten herself into this time? Feminine clothes were laid out on the bed, brand-new from the look of them, silk robe, a more discreet linen nightgown, furry bedroom slippers, and, embarrassingly, underthings. On a vanity were toilet articles, brush, comb, a very expensive perfume, all new.
The young man had come in to start a fire for her early in the afternoon, and Artie stood guard at the door. He smiled timidly at her. She glared back frostily. She ignored the boy entirely.
It was night now, but she refused to make use of the large bed. She would stay awake all night if she had to, but she wouldn’t relax until she had met the captain and given him a piece of her mind.
She fed the fire with wood the boy had left her, then drew a chair up to it, tucking her feet beneath her dark blue velvet skirt. The room was warm and she began feeling sleepy.
She almost didn’t hear the key turning in the door. The sound made her stiffen, but she didn’t turn around. Damned if she would deign to notice either Artie or Henri.
“My son tells me you’re a raving beauty,” said a deep voice. “Let me see what has him so smitten. Present yourself, Lady Montieth.”
She stood and, very slowly, turned to look at him. Her eyes went wide in shock.
“Uncle James!” “Regan?” they cried at once.
She recovered first. “Oh, uncle! You can’t mean to kidnap me for another three months of fun aboard theMaiden Anne?Don’t you think I’m a bit old for that now?”
Looking as confused as a man ever did, he held out his arms. “Come here, sweet, and give us a hug. My God, you really have turned into a raving beauty.”
She hugged him happily. “Well, it’s been three years, Uncle James, and I only saw you for an hour that time. It’s unfair, you know, having to sneak around to see my own uncle. Isn’t it time you made up with your brothers?”
“I might be willing,” he said quietly. “But I doubt they are, Regan.”
He had always liked being different, even to having his own special name for her. Her uncle, the pirate, had stolen her from under his brothers’ noses when they refused to allow him to see her. He’d taken her for a fabulous adventure aboard his ship, determined to have his rightful time with her. She had been twelve, and those incredible three months still lived vividly in her mind.
Of course, they both paid a price for it. James was already in disgrace for being a pirate. When he returned Reggie, all three brothers had thrashed him soundly for putting her in danger. He was disowned by all of them, even Tony, whom he’d always been so close to. James suffered over the rift, and Reggie suffered for being the cause of it. He never blamed her, but that only made her feel worse.
She pushed away from James and looked him over. He hadn’t changed very much in three years. He was still big and blond, as handsome as ever—and as outrageous. Look what he had done by bringing her there.
“I shouldn’t even speak to you,” she said sternly. “You gave me a terrible fright. You might at least have told your men to inform me it was the notorious Captain Hawke who was having me abducted.”
James exploded. “I’ll have their bloody hides, depend upon it! Damnation!” He threw open the door and bellowed, “Artie!…Henri!”
