Page 105 of The Moonstone Pirate
Draco nodded. “I wasn’t going to let anyone hurt her.”
Her uncle gave a grunt in appreciation. “I’ll see him hanged. I’ll do it myself, with my own two hands if I—” He stopped suddenly, glanced at his missing arm, and then gazed at his wife in utter frustration. “What am I saying? I’ll do it singlehandedly.”
“Cormac, honestly.” Aunt Phoebe strode to him and melted into his embrace.
Yes, this was what Imogen wanted so badly to share with Draco. Love, concern, hope, fears. Trust. Support. All of it.
Draco cast her a soft look. “Imogen also received a letter from her sister.”
Phoebe turned to her and smiled, but still remained nestled against Cormac. This was more to keep him calm than anything else, for he was still incensed over the Walter incident and frustrated because he only had the one hand to strangle the man. He always felt powerless and hated the feeling. Only Phoebe knew how to soothe him.
Imogen wanted to have this same special intimacy with Draco.
Her uncle glanced at the letter resting atop the table. “What did Ella have to say?”
They all took seats around the table as more refreshments were brought out and Imogen read the news aloud. By this time, Deandra had come down to join them. She sat beside Draco and fussed over him because she needed to stay close to him.
Imogen knew she was still overset about the incident. No one had any idea where Deandra’s father was, so Melrose was sent off to find him and inform him tea was served on the terrace. He returned a short while later to announce that Albert had taken the rig back to Woodley Hall to retrieve some books.
“My rig?” Draco frowned. “Will you loan me a horse, Burness? I’ll go after him.”
“I think you have done quite enough today,” Deandra said, taking hold of his hand and refusing to let go. “Are you afraid he will get lost? He isn’t completely absent-minded. I’m sure he will return in time for supper.”
“Fine.” He wasn’t in any hurry to move now that he had made himself comfortable.
To everyone’s relief, Albert strolled in well before supper. Imogen could see a lightness wash over Draco’s face.
“I would have brought you whatever you needed,” Draco told him.
“I know, nephew. You treat me and Deandra like royalty. It is quite unnecessary, but much appreciated. It was a simple chore, and one I was well able to do. You did not mind that I took your rig, did you?”
“No, not at all. Whatever is mine is yours to share.”
A curl of warmth spread through Imogen’s body. She loved Draco’s tender regard for his family.
She smiled at him.
He winked back at her.
She melted completely.
They all had supper together, and had just finished the soup course when they heard a distant bark. Draco heard it first and shot to his feet. “Burness, please excuse me. That is Parrot. Constable Angel must be with him.”
Uncle Cormac set down his spoon and rose along with him. “Of course. I’ll join you. Let’s hear what the constable has to report.”
Imogen set aside her table linen. “I’m coming with you.”
“We may as well all go,” Phoebe muttered.
Albert looked at them as though they had all gone mad. “Why? Has something happened?”
Deandra shook her head and sighed. “Oh, Papa. I do wish you would take your nose out of your books once in a while. Draco was wounded, and it was all a terrible accident. Did you not even notice?”
Supper was set aside while they all greeted Constable Angel with much relief.
“Did you get him?” Imogen’s uncle asked.
“Aye, my lord. Thanks to Lord Woodley’s dog. He’s a good tracker. Walter’s locked up in the fort prison under Major Brennan’s care. He’s too slippery a character to leave to my woeful gaol. The cells are little more than guest rooms for locals to sleep when they’re drunk.”
