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Her dark eyes moved back to him. “Oui,” she murmured. “There is a nursery, large and bright.”

Prince nodded and carried his crate to the turn of the stairs, pausing just out of her view to flash Nate an absolutely gleeful grin. “Make sure you get all the trunks up there,” Nate called after him. “Especially the red one.” The red one held the weapons and lead shot, and weighed a ton. It had taken two men to carry it off the ship. Prince just laughed, the sound booming back down the stairs and hall. Cheeky scoundrel.

Nate turned his attention to the women, who had gone back to unpacking and were ignoring him. Feminine clothing was strewn all over the bed and chaise, in froths of ribbons and lace in every color imaginable. The wardrobe doors stood open, as did every drawer on the bureau and dressing table. He ambled into the room, taking everything in. It looked utterly mundane, just an ordinary, though well-dressed, woman’s bedroom. It was somewhat disappointing; he’d expected to see knives and pistols inside the hatboxes.

He brushed aside a striped green dress and sat on the edge of the bed, bouncing a little on the thick mattress. “I’ll sleep on this side, if you don’t mind.”

Her lip curled. “You shall sleep on that side—of the door.” She waved one hand toward the connecting room.

Nate, who had deliberately ignored that door, made a face of disappointment. “What sort of way is this to start our marriage? I’m heartbroken already.”

“Better your heart than something else.”

“I had hoped we might be closer than all that.”

“But we are much too fashionable for anything so vulgar.” She crossed the room and opened the door in question, revealing another bedroom. “Your quarters, sir.”

“Fashion is a cold and wretched bedfellow,” he told her as he reluctantly rose from her bed.

She smiled coldly. “So am I.”

Nate didn’t make any attempt to hide his open perusal as he approached. By God she was captivating with that sharp, dangerous smile on her face. From the top of her dark curls to the tips of her kid slippers, peeping out below her blue skirt, there wasn’t a single thing wrong with her that he could see.

He stopped in front of her and looked her up and down. “Maybe I’d be willing to chance it,” he said mildly. “Maybe you’ve just never learned how to be warm and inviting in bed.”

She laughed. “You’ll never know what I’ve learned in bed.”

A flash of erotic possibilities blurred through his mind at her tone. Nate had to grind his teeth behind his smile to quell his body’s reaction to them. He folded his arms and leaned closer, watching the way her eyes changed as he did so. They were as dark as sin, and sparkling with sardonic amusement. “Here I never thought to hear you admit any deficiency. Come, darling, for the sake of our marriage, I can overlook it.”

“Ah, but for the sake of your object, I cannot,” she purred.

“Right,” he murmured, letting his gaze linger on her lips until she flattened them in irritation. Then he straightened and walked into his chamber, throwing open the door to the corridor. “Prince!” he bellowed. “Help me get the trunks!”

He closed the door on the good-natured grumbling that came from upstairs, and turned to survey his room more critically. It was large and bright, with windows on two sides. The house was on the end of a long row of tall, narrow houses in a quiet street. He opened a window and looked out, noting the view and sightlines. He opened the other windows as well, drawing in a deep breath of air that was blissfully almost free of the ocean. Lord, it would feel good to sleep in a proper bed again, in a room that didn’t rock and sway with the tide.

Madame still stood in the doorway between their bedrooms, arms folded. He gave her his most charming smile. “Have you reconsidered banishing me to my own chamber?”

“He is your slave?” She nodded her head slightly in the direction of the stairs.

“No,” said Nate, still grinning.

“Your servant?”

“No.”

She gave him a sharp look. “You will have to have a suitable explanation for his presence.”

“Don’t worry,” said Nate. “We’ll come up with something.”

Prince opened the door then and stuck his head in. “Did you mean to fetch those trunks now, or later, Nathaniel?”

“Now.” Nate turned to Madame. “Madame, may I present my good friend, Prince Chesterfield. Prince, this is our new partner, Madame Martand.”

Prince’s teeth gleamed in a wide smile. “A delightful pleasure, madame.” He gave her a courtly bow. “Mr. Avery tells me you will be an invaluable part of our efforts.”

“I shall do my best,” she replied.

“I’ll be right down,” Nate told Prince, who nodded and left, his footfalls thumping down the stairs.