Page 65 of The Moonstone Pirate
“Then answer me this…why have you been in touch with the Home Office?”
Bollocks.
How did he know about that?
“Does that scare you, McTavish? It was only to report my suspicions about the cuckold husband who happens to work for them. Driscoll was my brother’s friend. He was killed on my property. If the Home Office thinks they can hush this up to protect one of their own, my letter assured them otherwise. Not that it is any of your business. We are done here. Get back to your ship and don’t ever sail into my cove again.”
“You’re a prickly fellow, aren’t you?” McTavish cast him another insincere smile. “No need to get irate. You understand why I have to be sure about you.”
“Trust goes both ways. If I give you my word, you can count on it. You know this. I have always dealt fairly with you. That is my reputation, and nothing has changed.”
The Irishman held out his hand. “All right, we have a deal. I’ll be in touch with you next week with details. We’ve already arranged to meet at the Three Lions next week. Let’s keep that appointment. I need to get those deliveries underway.”
Draco pretended to mull it over, then nodded and shook McTavish’s hand. “All right. Until next week. I’ll accept your first delivery, and we shall see how it goes from there. However, all discussions take place at the Three Lions from now on. I don’twant you or your men ever to come here again unless it is to deliver goods under cover of night. I’ll shoot anyone who dares to show up here in broad daylight again.”
He led the way out of the cave, his senses once again heightened as he gave his back to these rogues. Parrot brought up the rear, as he was trained to do. Draco expected to hear a warning growl, quite certain McTavish would now order him killed. The air of distrust between them while in the cavern had been thick enough to carve with a knife.
He had only himself to blame, for he had been sloppy in sending that first letter off to the Home Office. Thaddius Angel might have mentioned it to others, or others might have seen it as they handed their mail over to Thaddius. Just that first time, for the innkeeper had taken the matter more seriously afterward and been discreet…Draco hoped.
Then again, Imogen seemed able to coax information out of Thaddius at will.
He sighed.
Blessed saints, it would be a miracle if he came out of this unscathed.
He watched McTavish as they stepped out of the cave. The Irishman might have had no idea of any letters sent and merely mentioned the Home Office as a stab in the dark. Draco could not risk being wrong about that. When lying, it was always better to stick as close to the truth as possible, even when the truth was damning.
He doused the torch now that they had emerged in bright sunlight and set it back in place just above the cave opening. Having done that, he waited for McTavish’s next move. Draco remained convinced the man was going to order him shot, but Parrot was not growling, and his crew was now climbing back into their rowboat.
Draco stood on the beach and watched them as they returned to theDroghedaand climbed aboard. “What do you think, Parrot? Are they going to fire a cannonball at us?”
The dog barked at him in indignation, as though to say it was all Draco’s fault if they did.
Draco knelt to give him a well-deserved scratch behind his ears. “Well done, Parrot. Sorry you had to get wet. I know how you hate the water, although I don’t know how a pirate’s dog bred for swimming can dislike it as much as you do.”
Parrot barked at him again.
“Yes, but it wasn’t my fault they came here at high tide.” Draco waited until theDroghedasailed out of sight before climbing back up the cliff steps and returning to the house. But first, he gathered up Imogen’s art supplies and easel that had been left strewn about the garden.
Lord, this girl.
Those items were precious to Imogen, and he did not wish to see them ruined. No doubt Imogen was fretting over her supplies more than she was fretting over him.
And how was he to face her after that kiss?
Why could he not have left well enough alone?
Wescott hurried out of the house as Draco approached with his bundles. “My lord,” he said, his brow furrowed in worry as he took the easel out of his hand, “may I ask what happened? What was that ship doing in the cove? I wanted to follow you down with some of the footmen, but Lady Imogen was adamant we stay right here. May I say, I was extremely worried for your safety.”
“Thank you, Wescott,” Draco said. “But it turned out to be nothing. Mistaken direction, that is all. The captain is an acquaintance of mine, so I greeted him and sent him off on the right course.”
Wescott pinched his lips, obviously annoyed by Draco’s feeble explanation which was an obvious lie. “Very good, my lord. Just let us know if there is anything we can do to help out in the event of future misdirection.”
“That won’t be necessary, Wescott. I’m sure it will not happen again.” Draco handed over the rest of Imogen’s supplies. “Put those in my study for now. I had better change out of these wet clothes before I ride over to Westgate Hall.”
Wescott balanced the bundles in his arms as best as he could and followed him indoors. “Will the ladies be going with you, my lord?”
Draco paused at the foot of the stairs. “What?”
