Page 17 of A Wicked Game

Her heart did a funny little jolt at his compliment, even though he was only putting on a show for the Aunts’ entertainment.

“Of course, some chaps might have been put off by the fact that you’re clever,” Morgan continued. “Or by that wickedly sharp tongue of yours. But not all.” He tilted his head. “In fact, the only way to becompletelysure a man isn’t after your money now would be to remember who spoke to you before you were rich.”

“You spoke to me,” she countered tartly. “Is that aproposal, Captain Davies?”

His eyes glittered in appreciation of her calling his bluff, but his lips curved into that devilish smile that haunted her dreams.

“Would you like it to be, Miss Montgomery?”

Chapter Seven

Harriet was still trying to frame a reply to Morgan’s provocative question when Lord Melville and his wife joined them. They exchanged pleasantries, and when Anne engaged the Aunts in conversation, Melville turned to Morgan and Harriet.

“Evening, Captain Davies. Miss Montgomery. A word with you both, if you please? Is there somewhere we can go where we shan’t be overheard?”

Morgan lifted his brows, intrigued.

“The gardens?” Harriet suggested. “Maddie’s put lanterns near the house, but if we go toward the stables, near the back, we shouldn’t be interrupted.”

“Unless there are any would-be lovers out there in the shrubbery,” Morgan murmured. “Then we’ll be the ones doing the interrupting.”

Harriet sent him a quelling glare.Trust him to think of such things.

“This way.”

Slipping easily through the crowd, she led them out onto the flagstone terrace, down the steps, and along one of the formal paths. As the shadows lengthened, she indicated a wisteria-draped walkway, one of Maddie’s favorite places in the grounds. Thankfully, it was devoid of amorous couples.

Morgan strode halfway along the tunnel and turned to Melville. “What’s all this about?”

“I had a report today that your old friend De Caen has been spotted in London.”

Morgan stilled. “Who saw him? Where? Are they sure?”

The older man sighed. “A shipmate of yours, one Thomas Cowper, claims he saw De Caen at Deptford, alighting from a clipper just in from Trinidad. De Caen’s limp drew his attention; then he recognized his face. Cowper tried to follow him, but he lost him in the crowd.”

Morgan muttered a curse.

“Damn it. Cowper was imprisoned with me. He definitely wouldn’t mistake De Caen. You don’t forget the man who tortured you.”

Harriet winced. It was hard to see Morgan’s features in the shadows, but his tone was grim.

“Why in God’s name would he be here, in London?” Morgan demanded. “Surely not for revenge against me? The man’s unhinged, no doubt about it, but that’s excessive, even for him.”

“Why would he want revenge?” Harriet asked. “I thought you were his prisoner?”

Morgan let out a sound that was half laugh, half snort. “I’mthe reason he walks with a limp. I’m sure he’d love the opportunity to return the favor.” He paused, thinking. “But if he wanted me, he could have found me quite easily. Half thetonknows where I live. It’s no secret.”

Melville cleared his throat. “Precisely. Which is why we have to assume he’s up to something else. Something that may well be related to Miss Montgomery here. Or rather, with our mapmaker Crusoe.”

Harriet stiffened in shock. “What?”

“Someone broke into the Admiralty offices last night. They entered the map room and went through every drawer, made a shocking mess. When we did an inventory of what had been taken, the only things missing were some maps drawn by Crusoe.”

Harriet’s heart began to pound. “But why would someone want those?” She felt a little light-headed.

“And why would you assume it was De Caen?” Morgan added.

“De Caen fled Martinique when he heard of Bonaparte’s defeat at Waterloo. The French government expected him to return to France, and planned to arrest him as soon as he set foot in the country.”

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