Page 61 of A Wicked Game

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Harriet raised her brows. “Something along the lines of,At least I wasn’t stuck in there with Harriet Montgomery?”

De Montfort chuckled. “Something like that. But you mustn’t think of it as an insult. You were our talisman—fierce and fearless, so we had to be the same. Captain Davies told us never to lose hope, never to give up, because one day all our hardships would be just a memory. We’d be safe, and free, and dancing in some glittering ballroom with a beautiful, vexing woman in our arms.” Hesent a droll glance at their surroundings. “I can’t tell you how glad I am that he was right.”

Harriet’s heart was pounding. Morgan had said that abouther?

“You’re quite the poet, sir. You make me sound like some kind of saint. Except for the vexing part.”

His laughter made the couples next to them stare. “Oh, most definitelynota saint. To hear the captain tell it, you’d make the devil himself cry.”

“I suppose I should take that as a compliment too?”

“Absolutely. And please, call me Oliver.”

Harriet laughed, amused despite herself. “Very well, Oliver. I’m glad to have been of service.”

He let out a theatrical sigh. “It really is a shame, you know. You’re just as I imagined you’d be. Beautiful. Witty. Clever.”

“Why is that a shame?”

“Because I’d very much like to get to know you better.”

Harriet flushed. De Montfort was handsome and charming, but at two years younger than herself, he was still a puppy. A boy, not a man. Adorable, but just not… wicked enough for her.

NotDaviesenough for her, curse it.

Still, she raised her brows. “And you can’t get to know me better because—?”

He flashed a glance at something over her shoulder and grinned as he leaned closer to whisper in her ear, “Because you’re the captain’s woman.”

Her stomach somersaulted, even as her intellect rebelled at being labeled any man’s possession. “I most certainly amnot—”

“Evening, Captain,” Oliver said jauntily, spinning her into one final whirl.

Harriet turned, and came face-to-face with Morgan,standing at the edge of the dance floor. Her feet skidded to a stop. “Oh!”

Morgan looked both amused and forbidding, handsome as sin in dark evening clothes, snowy-white shirt, and cravat. If anyone was a devil it washim.

“Good evening, De Montfort. I see you’ve already made Miss Montgomery’s acquaintance.”

The younger man bowed. “I have indeed. And might I say, she’s everything I expected and more.” He raked her with an openly appreciative look, which Harriet ignored. She glared accusingly at Morgan instead.

“You made me sound like shrewish harpy! To yourentire crew.”

Morgan’s lips curled at the corners, even as he raised his brows. “I hope you haven’t been telling tales, De Montfort,” he drawled. “We might be ashore, but I can still find decks that need scrubbing for cheeky midshipmen.”

Oliver grinned. “Not at all, Captain, sir. I was merely telling Miss Montgomery how dear she was to everyone on theBriseis. It’s an honor to finally meet her in person.”

Morgan narrowed his eyes, as if he planned to say more, then clearly changed his mind. He turned to Harriet and pulled her arm through his in a proprietary gesture that made her pulse flutter.

Oliver shot her an amusedI told you sosmile.

“De Montfort might know something of the house you mentioned the other day,” Morgan said. “The one in Grosvenor Square. It belongs to his uncle.”

De Montfort accepted the change in topic with ease. “What of it?”

“I wondered why it was always shut up,” Harriet said.

“Oh, Uncle Harold won that place years ago, in a game of cards. He keeps it ready for a visit, but he never comes to town. He hasn’t left his estate in Cornwall forthe past twenty years. He’s offered to let me use it, but to tell you the truth, it’s too big for my taste. I keep bachelor lodgings at the Albany instead.”