“Johnny got married.”
“Johnny? My cabin boy, Johnny?” James’ eyes flared. “Good God, he’s only fifteen! What the devil does he think he’s doing?”
Connie shrugged. “Says he fell in love and can’t bear to leave the little woman.”
“Little woman?” James sneered. “That cocky little twit needs a mother, not a wife.” His head was pounding again, and he swilled down the rest of the tonic.
“I’ve found you another cabin boy. MacDonell’s brother—”
Tonic spewed across James’ desk. “Who?” he choked.
“Blister it, James, what’s got into you?”
“You said MacDonell? Would his first name be Ian?”
“Aye.” Now Connie’s eyes flared. “Good God, he’s not the Scot from that tavern, is he?”
James waved away the question. “Did you get a good look at the brother?”
“Come to think of it, no. He was a little chap, though, quiet, hiding behind his brother’s coattails. I didn’t have much choice in signing him on, what with Johnny only letting me know two days ago that he was staying in England. But you can’t mean to think—”
“But I do.” And suddenly James was laughing. “Oh, God, Connie, this is priceless. I went back to look for that little wench, you know, but she and her Scot had disappeared from the area. Now here she’s fallen right into my lap.”
Connie grunted. “Well, I can see you’re going to have a pleasant crossing.”
“You may depend upon it.” James’ grin was decidedly wolfish. “But we shan’t unmask her disguise just yet. I’ve a mind to play with her first.”
“You could be wrong, you know. She might be a boy after all.”
“I doubt it,” James replied. “But I’ll find out when she begins her duties.”
And as theMaiden Anneleft England behind, James contemplated those duties and how he would add to them in the coming weeks. This was indeed going to be a pleasant voyage.
Chapter Forty-four
“You’re not going out again, are you?”
Anthony stopped in the process of putting his gloves on. “I was.”
Roslynn left the parlor doorway, stepping closer to him. They had been home only a little over an hour. It had taken her this long to get up the courage to approach him, but that courage was fast deserting her now that the opportunity was here. But she had to do it.
“I would like a word with you.”
“Very well.” He indicated the parlor.
“No, upstairs.” At his sharply arched brow, she blushed and quickly added, “In my room.” Jeremy was in the house somewhere, but this was one conversation she didn’t want interrupted. “We can be private there—for what I have to say.”
“Then lead on, my dear.”
His tone implied indifference. God, he was not going to make this easy for her. And what if he didn’t care? What if she succeeded only in making a fool of herself?
Roslynn hurried upstairs with Anthony slowly following. He was dragging his feet, afraid he wasn’t going to like what she had to say. It was too soon for her to say what he wanted to hear. He had figured it would take at least several weeks before she would admit she didn’t like sleeping alone. She wouldn’t balk then when he put his foot down and demandedshe honor her original agreement with him to be a wife in every way.
Roslynn was already seated on the chaise longue when Anthony entered her room. Since that seat was taken and the bed was out of the question, he sat down on the stool at her vanity only a few feet away. He fiddled with the perfume bottles there, waiting for her to begin. The piece of paper was just something else to touch, but when he opened it, James’ handwriting caught his immediate attention.
“Anthony, could you at least look at me?” He did, his eyes narrowed now, and she lowered her own. “I don’t know how else to say this except…I was wrong.”
“Wrong?”
