Luke protected Linus on the night of the attack by begging the old man not to fight. He’d thrown Linus’s pistol in the sea and forced him to surrender, no matter what transpired.
Luke’s protection continued to this day. He’d located Surcouf in France after the attack and offered to buy Linus’s freedom. The blaggard Frenchman had refused so that he could extort Luke for more money instead. But now Luke had the upper hand; Surcouf’s coveted missing princess was in his grasp. Luke need only to dangle her, snatch Linus, and then yank her away. That was the plan. Leave Vincent Surcouf with no prisoner, no princess, and no gold.
It was delicate, and risky, and suddenly a lot more complicated, but Luke could not see a better way. And he was single-minded in his pursuit. The Dinwiddies and their years of secrets were unfortunate, and Luke hated to embroil this unwitting young woman in his plot, but his need to recover Linus made Princess Danielle a problem to be solved.
Her tug-of-war over the local parish house, however, was not. And it didn’t matter how uneasy the quarryman made her feel, or how Luke felt when he saw her recoil. He must not be distracted.
The only thing that mattered was getting Linus Welty out of France alive. And leaving Surcouf with nothing.
Now they’d come upon a crossroads in the center of the village. Horse and carriage traffic navigated around a green oval of sod with a colorful flower border. A thin obelisk in the center pointed to the sky. Danielle Allard walked to the ledge around the obelisk and sat, bracing her hands on the stone. For a long moment, she stared at the toes of her shoes.
“Will you bring in sheep?” she wondered, not looking up.
“I beg your pardon?”
“At Eastwell Park. Will you bring in sheep?”
“Ah... ye—”
“And what of the house?” she pressed. “A full staff could employ twenty villagers, at least. There is also considerable timber. On the land? The timber? It’s called Eastwell Park because—”
He dropped onto the ledge beside her.
“Forgive me,” she said wistfully. “I’ve not yet fully recovered from the happy news that Eastwell is to be occupied.”
“Occupied? Yes. But honestly I’ve not made plans for the estate. I thought I should see it first.”
She looked up. “But you’ve not yet seen the house?”
“No. I’ve not seen it.” And now, acting on instinct—acting before he’d even realized he was doing it—he said, “I came first, for you.”
She went very still. She asked quietly, “You came for me?”
He nodded.
“But why?” Her question, he knew, was a small test.
“Houses can be restyled or even rebuilt, but women come mostly as they are, don’t they? Perhaps I wanted to see what I’d won.”
“You view me as a prize, sir?”
“Before this morning, I’d not viewed you at all, had I? And that is why I came for you first. I don’t mind saying, now that I’ve met you, you seem very prized, indeed.”
This earned him the slightest little intake of breath. The sound was like the spray of cool mist from a curling wave. He was flirting, and he didn’t know why. Perhaps because of Mr. Stinchcomb and his many small aggressions. Perhaps he thought flirtation would make her more compliant.
“Captain, may I have the night to think it over?” she asked.
“I’m sorry?”
“The negotiation you offered,” she said. “May I tell you tomorrow?”
“Oh, that. Right. Absolutely. And also let us tour Eastwell Park tomorrow, shall we? If you’re amenable. No obligation, mind you. Just a look. I presume you’ve been there before, likely many times?”
She shook her head. “The baron has been dead for five years. I was only seventeen at that time. I’ve been to parties on the grounds, but not inside.”
“A tour for us both, then. We can discover any vermin infestations and ghosts together.”
She laughed. “Thank you. Did you know, you have not behaved terribly on a single occasion today. Not a single time.”
