“Yes, I’ve heard that story, too. And with all the pearls he has, it could be true. I am not worried about any supposed danger right now.”
“I will do it for you.”
That startled Susannah. “What? Mrs. Princeton, I cannot let you do that.”
“My reputation does not matter, but yours does. I will search his bedchamber for you.”
Susannah’s heart softened and she smiled gratefully at her devoted companion. “I cannot let you do that, but you can help me by keeping the captain occupied while I search.”
“How can I do that? He will have no desire to speak to a gray-haired companion.”
“Perhaps you can gain his attention by fainting or pretending you are drunk and making a fool of yourself.”
Mrs. Princeton gasped and her back stiffened.
Susannah smiled at her prudish companion. She was willing to break the law for her but not pretend to be drunk!
“If you don’t like my suggestions, I will leave it up to you as to how you keep him occupied long enough for me to scour his bedchamber.”
Mrs. Princeton’s eyes narrowed and concern etched its way across her face. “I don’t know if I can do this.”
“Mrs. Princeton, my life might very well depend on your acting abilities.” Susannah didn’t enjoy being so forceful but she truly had no choice if she was going to find the pearls for her mother.
“Yes, Your Grace.”
“Thank you. Now, would you please see to it that the letter gets on its way to my mother? I’m going to go practice my music and prepare myself for what I have to do.”
* * *
Race’s lids fluttered open to the bright light of day and a banging inside his head. He rolled over and slung the sheet aside, revealing that he’d gone to bed again in his trousers rather than his nightshirt. He rubbed his forehead and then his temples. What happened to him last night? He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so deep in his cups that he woke with a headache.
He’d given up heavy drinking years ago, but after his frustrating meeting with Bickerman yesterday, he failed to watch the amount of wine he consumed throughout the evening. Bickerman’s runner had searched Winston’s and Spyglass’s homes and Smith’s shop and house and had not found the pearls.
Bickerman explained to Race that he was working on a plan to search Spyglass’s ship, but that would take more time and expertise because theGolden Pearlwas never left unattended.
Race lay on his back with his forearms covering his eyes. Was that music he heard? Yes, lovely, soothing pianoforte music.
Susannah.
He could wake up to that sweet sound every morning. Suddenly he bolted up in bed and looked at his window. It was open only a little, but everything was so still and quiet in his room that he heard the music drifting in from Susannah’s house.
Just the thought of her aroused him.
Why was she playing the pianoforte so early in the morning? He glanced over at the clock on the mantel. It wasn’t that early. It was already afternoon.
He rose and went to the window to look out. The bright sun hurt his over-indulged eyes. The sky was cloudless and as blue as any sapphire he’d ever seen. He pushed the window up as far as it would go and inhaled the fresh air. He propped his hands on the windowsill and listened. The melody drifted across the air into his room, pleasing him, soothing his banging temples.
Race stared at the back of Susannah’s house and longed to see her, to touch her, to press his body to hers and sink inside her once again.
Race squeezed his eyes shut. After the way he had treated her, he wasn’t surprised she hated him and never wanted to be with him again. He had been a rake, a scoundrel, an idiot of the highest order. He knew that. What had made him overreact and assume she had something to do with the theft? Was it because he was trying to counter how she made him feel? And how was he going to make it up to her for the way he had treated her?
That night at Lord Kendrickson’s party she had made him painfully aware of two things. One, if she had the pearls she would have already left and taken them to her ill mother. Two, he ached to be in her good graces again. Not only had his night in her bed been the most extraordinary of his life, but he enjoyed talking to her, looking at her, and just being with her. He wanted to walk in the park with her, dance with her, and make love to her again.
The music continued to drift in as he shaved, washed, and dressed. Many times over the past few days he’d thought about going through the hedge to see Susannah and ask her to forgive him but stopped himself every time. She had made it perfectly clear she didn’t want to see him, and he didn’t blame her, but he was tired of her rules. From now on, he was taking over. He was not without charms and he was going to use them to woo her back into his life and into his arms.
And he knew a good place to start.
He walked over to a small chest and opened the top drawer and took out a sheet of vellum, a quill, and a jar of ink. After dipping the tip of the quill into the ink, he quickly wrote:
