She frowned. “But you’re letting them come.”
He snorted. “They know more about Thorne than the entire US Navy combined. A mere month ago, Christian would have been the one in charge of this mission.”
Samantha turned to Miss Montclair. “As much as I would love to have your company, he’s right. Dangerous is an understatement. Going after Thorne is a death wish.”
Miss Montclair’s shoulders slumped. “I suppose I’ll have to find that boarding house after all.”
Isaac shifted in his seat. She kept her composure remarkably well for all that had just transpired in front of her. Of course, talk of pirates wouldn’t faze her, given where she lived. But he’d promised her safe quarters and now that had been yanked away.
“Nonsense.” Samantha shook her head. “You can still stay here.”
Miss Montclair’s eyes widened slightly as she swiveled her gaze around the large dining room and a flutter of pity stirred within Isaac. Alone in this big house, in a new city on a continent she’d never been to before? It wouldn’t be fair to her.
“Or…” Samantha had obviously come to the same conclusion. “You can stay with my best friend, Abigail Ross. She would love to have you and the opportunity to show you around Savannah.”
Miss Montclair played with the corner of her napkin, her eyes on her plate. “I feel as if I’ve become quite the burden.”
“Nonsense. Abigail is the socializing expert. She’s honestly the best person you could be with if you’re wanting to get to know Savannah—and to get the people of Savannah to know you.”
“Well, that’s settled.” Christian wore a forced smile. “With all the preparations that are needed, it’s probably wise to take her there tonight.”
Samantha nodded. “You’re right.”
“And what of your Caribbean trip?” Isaac gave Christian a hard look.
“It should only take me a few days to interview the survivors. We’ll be back within the week.”
Isaac fought the groan forming in his throat. He’d hoped to have Miss Montclair well on her way home by then.
Samantha cleared her throat, snapping his attention back to the matter at hand. “I’m sure you’ll be heading down to the docks. The Ross estate is on the way. You won’t mind taking Miss Montclair with you, right?”
He avoided looking at the subject of their conversation, the prickle along his neck giving away her stare. Holding in his sigh, he gave Christian a curt nod. With the Ross home such a short ride away, it would be rude to decline.
“Alright. But we should leave now. I need to send word to Governor Milledge about my plans, and get orders to all the new men who’ve arrived.”
They stood and he followed Christian outside while the women went to collect Miss Montclair’s belongings. He stretched, mentally making a list of the multitude of things he needed to do before tomorrow night to be able to leave on time. His friend stared out into the distance and Isaac turned to him.
“Are you sure this is a good idea? If we run into your father in Wilmington—”
“Samantha’s right. He’ll be long gone by the time we get there. Ijust hope we can figure out why he attacked that ship.”
“It could be as simple as him trying to goad us.”
Christian shook his head. “No, he wouldn’t have come out of hiding without a good reason.”
A look of determination had settled across his face and Isaac chewed the inside of his cheek. He couldn’t help the suspicion that Christian had not told him everything his father had revealed, but a feminine laugh interrupted his thoughts before they could spiral.
Miss Montclair followed Samantha outside, her satchel slung over one shoulder and that ridiculous parrot perched on the other. As soon as she stepped into the glow of the setting sun, the bird let loose a squawk and took flight, landing on the marble statue of Venus in the center of the fountain.
“Lola!” A flush spread across her cheeks. “She’s usually not this ill-behaved.”
Isaac crossed his arms. “Now what?”
She blinked up at him. “Now I go get her, of course.”
“Of course.” He shook his head as she left him on the stairs.
After a minute of pleading to the bird to come to her, Miss Montclair threw up her hands. She sat on the edge of the fountain and pulled her slippers free, tossing them to the ground. Standing, she pulled her skirts up, revealing shapely calves. He pressed his eyes shut. Of course, his mind went to Tortuga—to the waterfall, to her skin glistening with water, to her laughter echoing in the trees.
