“Oh, milord! It is you. Lieutenant Governor Spotswood is in.” The guards moved away. “He was preparing to ride to your estate this very morning, milord.”
“Well, then, we have saved him some trouble,” Roc murmured. His hands remained fast upon her shoulders and he steered her through the gate. His words sizzled angrily against her earlobe as he bent to whisper to her. “Now, milady, I know that you are upset, and in private I have promised you certain concessions, but if you think to burst away from me like that again, I’ll take a horsewhip to you.” To emphasize his words, his hand fell hard upon her rear anatomy.
She gasped in surprise and fury. The guards all turned their way. Roc smiled charmingly. “Horsefly!” he said.
“Horsefly, my—”
“Come, love. We’re far from properly attired to visit the lieutenant governor, but it seems now that we shall visit anyway!”
Even then the front doors opened and Spotswood’s butler bowed low in greeting. “The lieutenant governor will see you upstairs, Lord Cameron.” If the butler thought anything of their strange attire, he did not betray it. As Roc pushed her through the entry way she suddenly gasped, looking at the layout of the mansion, at the arms upon the walls, at the size of the hall and the stairway.
“What?” Roc demanded tensely.
“Bone Cay,” she murmured.
“What?” he repeated suspiciously.
“Bone Cay. The—the Silver Hawk’s house there. It greatly resembles this one.”
He fell silent. Skye did not glance his way. Maids were polishing the floor. The butler hesitated, awaiting them.
“Come along,” Roc murmured, urging her forward.
Upstairs they came straightaway to the grand reception room with the fine leather wall covering that was of such pride to Spotswood. The lieutenant governor was at tea, finely dressed and wigged and ready for his day. He stood, expecting them, a fine porcelain cup in his hands. “Ah, Skye, my dear!”
He set his cup upon a table and hurried toward her, taking both her hands tight in his and studying her anxious eyes. “I am so sorry, dear, to greet you after these years with such sorry news!”
“Is there nothing else that you know, sir?” she asked.
Lieutenant Governor Spotswood looked over her head to Roc. Irritated, Skye squeezed his hands. “Sir, please…!”
He squeezed her hands in turn, and his gaze returned to hers. “I believe that he is alive and well, my dear. I told him that he should wait patiently and all would prove to be well. But he could not be patient, he determined to set to sea, and set to sea he did, with a rogue for his captain.”
“Do you know the pirate’s name, sir?” Roc asked.
Spotswood nodded slowly. “A seaman managed to escape the ship and swim to shore. He came instantly to my house, bringing the news.”
“And?” Roc persisted.
“The man’s name is Logan. Captain Logan. We hear tell that he has sailed with Hornigold and Vane. Do you know anything of him?”
“Logan!” Skye cried. Logan, she repeated inwardly, feeling the blood rush from her face. Logan, cruel, reckless, careless—and hating her greatly, she was certain. What would he do to her father?
She shivered, remembering the hook upon the man’s arm where his hand should have been. She remembered his narrow face, and his total lack of mercy. She remembered his fury when the fight had broken out, and how he had demanded her as his prize.
“You know this pirate?” Spotswood said to her intensely. She looked into his eyes again and nodded. She trusted him; he would do what he could. Some found him controversial; Skye had always cared for him greatly. He had been born in Tangier, on the east coast of Africa, when his father had been stationed there for the Crown. He was an adventurer himself, she thought, a man quick to rise to a challenge, determined, and vigorous.
“I know—Logan,” she murmured. She was striving for control but a huge sob shook her anyway. “I am afraid that he will kill Father.”
“Tea!” the lieutenant governor said. “You must have some tea, and something to eat. Then a long wash with hot water, and a good night’s sleep. Sleep will make the world look brighter.”
“I must do something!” she cried.
“Perhaps—” Spotswood began, but Roc cut him off with a startling fury. “Sir! Would you cast the girl into danger all over again when she has just been brought from it? I will take theLady Elenaand go after this Logan.”
His hand was upon Skye’s shoulder again. He pressed down, causing her to sit. “My love, you will do nothing! You may remain here in Williamsburg, or you may return to Cameron Hall, but you will not set sail again.” He bowed low to them both. “Sir! I am going to order my servants home, to see that theLady Elenais readied for sail.”
“I shall see to breakfast, Petroc,” the lieutenant governor called after him. He smiled to Skye. “It will work out, Skye, I am quite certain.”
