Page 56 of The Moonstone Pirate
His fork clattered onto the plate, and he frowned at her. “Imogen, what has he told you about these letters?”
“Nothing. He will not speak to me.”
“Then how do you know about his correspondence? Did you sneak into his study?”
“No!” Imogen cleared her throat. “Thaddius told me.”
Her uncle pounded his fist on the table. “Thaddius!”
Imogen inhaled softly, realizing she should not have said anything to get the innkeeper in trouble. “But he did not mean to let anything slip. We were just talking, and…he begged me not to say anything, so I promised I would keep mum.”
“A broken promise, since you have now blabbed to me and your aunt,” her uncle growled.
“Only because you are the local magistrate and ought to be told what is going on. And Aunt Phoebe is your very heart and completes you, so it is the same as telling you.”
Her aunt emitted a snorting laugh.
Her uncle groaned.
“But I have no intention of confiding the news to anyone else,” Imogen assured him. “Not even Chloe or Henley or their husbands. Certainly never Deandra, since she is already worried enough thinking it is a simple murder investigation.”
Phoebe was still grinning like a contented cat and casting adoring looks at her husband. “Did you hear that, Cormac? I am the missing part of your heart.”
“My heart is intact,” he grumbled. “It is my arm that is missing.” He glanced at his empty sleeve before pressing on with his lecture. “Imogen, how I feel about Phoebe does not relieve you of your misbehavior. Who else has Thaddius told about Woodley’s letters? Must we worry about the whole village learning of them?”
“No one else knows, he assured me.” Truly, Imogen ought to have kept her mouth shut, because her uncle appeared quite angry over Thaddius’s loose lips. “Uncle Cormac, you know how good I am at coaxing information out of even the most reluctant sources. What truly worries me is that this morning I awoke with a knot in my stomach that I cannot attribute to any obvious malady. I fear this sensation of foreboding is about Lord Woodley. I am terribly concerned for him.”
Her uncle placed his hand over hers. “Woodley can take care of himself, Imogen. His years as a privateer have honed his fighting skills. He’ll fight like a beast if it proves necessary.”
“Yes,beastis an apt description. I always thought there was a hard edge to him.” Imogen’s eyes rounded in surprise. “Do you think he will have cause to fight?”
“Only as a last resort. He does not go around looking for trouble. He is a hard man, but he also happens to be very protective of you and Deandra. I would not let you anywhere near him if I doubted his honor. If there is a hint of danger, he will see you safe. But why place this added burden on him, especially now that you are sensing something in the air? How about we invite them over here, starting today?”
“All my art supplies are there, and I would really like to finish my painting of his garden today. I’m sure everything will be fine.” She patted her stomach. “It could be something I ate last night, that’s all. Truly, Uncle Cormac. It’s probably a mild indigestion.”
He nodded. “Still, let this be your last day there. Deandra can stay over here whenever she wishes. Her father, too.”
“Sounds like a good plan.”
Should she tell her uncle about Draco opening up that secret escape tunnel in the cave? She wanted to, but was it fair to break Draco’s trust?
She would bring up the subject with Draco today. He should be the one to mention it to her uncle.
After spending an hour playing with her cousins, something she enjoyed even though those twin boys were little beasts themselves and did not know how to sit still for a moment, she left the nursery and popped into her uncle’s study. “I’m leaving now, Uncle Cormac.”
He came around his desk to escort her to his waiting carriage. “Still having that queasy feeling?”
She shrugged. “A little. It is going away, I think.”
“Even so, be careful,” he said as they stepped outside. “Come home immediately if you sense something is wrong.”
“All right, but you mustn’t fret about me. I am not ill.”
“I know, Imogen.” He watched the carriage pull up in front of them. “But you have keen instincts. I was going to have the driver return here after dropping you off, but should he stay with you?”
“No, that is absolutely unnecessary. Besides, the Woodleys have several carriages on hand.”
“All right. But if you sense something amiss, toss Deandra and her father into one of his carriages and come back here straight away. Forget your supplies. Forget everything and just come home.”
